“You got a cake too? So romantic,” he teased.
“Correction—I baked you a cake. Well, Bryan helped. A lot. He helped a lot, but I decorated it.”
His smile turned warm again and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you, love. This is perfect.”
“Yeah?” I exhaled a long breath.
He nodded. “What kind of cake is it?”
“Carrot. There are some nuts in it too.” I sliced a large piece and pulled it out so he could see. “Have a bite.”
Maxim picked one of the forks and scooped off the tip of the slice. His eyes lit up when the cake hit his tongue. “This is fantastic, Rem. It’s not too sweet.” He took another, bigger bite then hummed. “Thank you for tonight. I already said it, but it’s perfect.”
“You’re welcome. You do so much for me; I wanted to do something nice for you.”
“You do a lot for me too.”
“It’s not the same,” I said, shaking my head. “There’s a power imbalance between us, yet you don’t make me feel…” Like a whore. “Like I’m less than or some shit. I can’t thank you enough for that.”
Maxim set his fork down and nodded again. “You don’t have to thank me, but I understand what you’re saying, and I appreciate the gesture.” He closed the short distance between us and kissed me hungrily, lip biting and all.
Heat flooded me in an instant and incinerated all of the insecurities I’d been plagued with during the last few days. We hadn’t been sexually active since my confession, and I couldn’t really explain why. We weren’t awkward around each other, and I certainly still wanted him, yet neither of us tried to initiate anything beyond kissing.
I fisted the front of his T-shirt and pulled him closer, needing to feel his solid frame against me. To my delight, Maxim pulled me up into his lap, and I wrapped my legs around his back.
“I don’t want to watch TV tonight, love,” he panted.
“Fuck the TV.” I pressed my lips to his while I rocked my hips, grinding my growing hard-on against his. I loved the feel of that massive cock stretching and filling me until I thought I couldn’t take any more, but I had other plans tonight—if Maxim was into it.
I licked into his mouth, pulling out every trick I knew would drive him crazy. His hands tightened on my waist when I nipped his scar, so I did it again.
“Remy,” he growled.
I tweaked one of his nipples and bit him again.
He roughly shoved a hand down the back of my pants and squeezed my ass hard enough to bruise. I hissed and rolled my hips harder into his lap, making us both groan. I took the brief break from our kiss to pull his head back and suck on the sensitive skin above his collarbone. I was usually the one between us to bear marks from sex, but I wanted everyone to know that Maxim was fucking mine.
Maxim hissed and pried me off of his neck. I looked at the brutal red mark I’d left with a toothy grin. I could have written “property of Remy” on his forehead in a Sharpie for as subtle as the mark was. “More,” I demanded.
“When did you turn into a vampire?”
“Since you started tasting so fucking good.” I leaned in for his neck again, but he held me back.
“Behave, Rem. No more marks.” His voice was calm yet stern, and it made me melt. Bossy Max was fucking hot.
“Then give me something else to suck on.”
He blew out the candle and his already dark eyes turned black. With both hands supporting me, Maxim stood and carried me to the bedroom. To ensure he was riled up enough to be rough with me, I bit his neck hard, just above the other mark. Maxim winced, then set me down in front of the bed instead of tossing me onto it as I’d expected.
“On your back—head toward me. Now.”
I did as instructed and hung my head over the edge of the bed. My whole body throbbed in anticipation of what was about to happen as I glanced up at Maxim. His eyes were locked on mine as he pushed his pants down far enough to free his hard cock mere inches from my face. He was fucking hung to begin with, but this angle made it all the more apparent. I’d have doubted I could take him if I hadn’t already had firsthand experience in doing so.
Maxim leisurely stroked himself and I licked my lips, hungry for a taste. Watching his foreskin slide over his cockhead was going to drive me in-fucking-sane. I reached for my own cock and squeezed, only to still when Maxim growled.
“Hands on the bed.” He traced my parted lips with two fingers before he sank them into my willing mouth. I sucked on them as if they were his gorgeous cock—hoping soon they would be. “Beg for it.”
Yeeesss. “Please,” I said though it came out muffled around his thick fingers.
“Please what?”
“Please fuck my throat.”
His fingers faltered for a moment, and I thought I hadn’t pushed him enough. Then his other hand guided his cock to my lips. Instead of giving me what I wanted, he rubbed the blunt head along my cheek, leaving a smear of pre-cum in its wake.
“Don’t fucking tease me.”
“That isn’t begging.”
“Please—Fucking please.”
His cock twitched in his hand then he brushed the tip against my lips. I couldn’t resist and took a swipe at him with my tongue, savoring the taste of him. Maxim jerked back and shivered. I grinned. I opened my mouth to tease him, and he stuffed it full of that gorgeous cock, stopping before he reached my throat.
“No more talking,” he ground out, rubbing the corner of my stretched mouth. He pulled almost all the way out, then pushed back in, moving slowly. I closed my eyes and did my best to relax my throat in anticipation of what was coming.
One of Maxim’s hands gripped my throat while the other held my head angled back, keeping my throat open. Without any warning, he pushed all the way in until my nose tickled from his pubes. His musky scent was dulled from his earlier shower at the gym, but I loved it all the same.
I moaned, long and needy, around the cock in my mouth, reveling in the glide of it over my tongue. Maxim kept his thrusts slow and measured at first, no doubt to fucking torture me. I wanted him to bruise my throat, and I wasn’t above whimpering for it.
“Are you ready to hurt for me again, love?” he asked reverently.
My eyes fluttered closed and I groaned. Maxim brushed his thumb over the hollow of my neck then forced his cock as far as it would go, again and again. The rough, relentless pace brought tears to my eyes, yet I loved it. Maxim’s labored breaths were the sexiest sounds and only made my own dick harder.
He fucked my throat raw until I felt him swell and pulse, coming down my throat. He grunted and mumbled about how perfect I was while he caressed my neck and jaw before slowly pulling out. I caught a small taste of him from one last spasm on my tongue.
“Thanks for dessert.” I sat up and made a show of licking my lips. “Come ’ere, big guy.”
Maxim joined me on the bed and kissed me gently, belying the ferocity he’d just displayed when he fucked my face. And that was one of the things that made being with Maxim so different—no matter what we did, he still respected me. Even when he used me during sex, I never truly felt like I was being exploited. He would die before he disrespected me.
Sweet kisses were fantastic, but I wasn’t done. Using Maxim’s weakened state to my advantage, I pinned him on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. His brows rose in clear surprise, and I grinned wolfishly.
“I’m not remotely finished with you yet.” I worked a hand between us and cupped his balls, drawing a sharp gasp from him. “I hope you have more for me. I need another taste.” I licked up the side of his neck, then sucked on his earlobe.
Maxim’s back arched off of the bed, lifting me as well. When we came back down, I rolled his balls around in my palm and watched him squirm from oversensitivity. I needed him naked, and I fucking needed it now.
“You’re wearing too many fucking clothes.” He hurriedly took off his shirt while I pulled his pants and boxers down. My own shirt followed, and I shoved
my pants down as fast as I could. I was back down on Maxim in seconds, rutting against him as best I could without getting too worked up. The need to come had been building since Maxim first kissed me, but I had to hold off a bit longer.
With Maxim naked and momentarily spent beneath me, keeping myself in check was going to be fucking hard. He was so responsive to every touch and kiss, and every sound he made went straight to my cock. Starting with his lips, I kissed and teased every inch of him I could get my mouth and hands on. His cock joined the party again while I was lapping at one of his nipples and tweaking the other.
I scooted down until that monster cock was close enough to taste again, then I licked him from balls to tip, smiling when his entire body shuddered. I squeezed his powerful thighs, then sat up and sucked on my index finger. Maxim’s head was tilted back so he couldn’t see me or anticipate what I was about to do.
His cock twitched and was too damn inviting. I stroked him leisurely with my free hand while I guided my spit-slicked finger between Maxim’s legs. He jerked and his eyes shot to mine when I rubbed small circles around his hole.
My hand shifted from his cock to rub his hip. I needed him to relax, and sexual stimulation alone wasn’t going to be enough for that. “Relax, babe. Trust me.” I pressed harder, sinking the tip of my finger inside him as he sucked in a sharp breath. He tensed and I stilled, waiting for him to calm. I kept rubbing his hip and thigh until his body loosened enough for me to push in deeper.
“I want you, Max. How long has it been for you?” He whimpered in response, whether to my probing finger or the question, I wasn’t sure. “That long, huh? Do you remember what it feels like to have me fucking you? Working you apart from the inside until I’ve drawn every last drop from you? Yeah, you couldn’t forget that.” My throat was hoarse from the brutal throat-fucking I’d endured, but seeing the reaction my words had on Max was worth the pain of speaking.
He looked wrecked from the mere thought of having me inside him again, which I took as an invitation to press in as far as I could. I found his prostate without any trouble and massaged it, mirroring the motion of my hand on his hip. Maxim’s hands fisted the sheets at his sides, and he squirmed, mumbling incoherently.
I leaned down and kissed the head of his leaking cock, then carefully withdrew my finger. “Head up on the pillows, babe.” He nodded and did as instructed while I got the lube from the nightstand. I settled back between Maxim’s legs and coated my fingers with a few pumps of lube. Maxim hawkeyed me the entire time, which told me I had some work to do before he’d be relaxed enough to take me.
I couldn’t say for certain, though I was pretty sure Maxim hadn’t bottomed much—if at all—since I’d left. It had taken four years of us being together before he told me he wanted to try it, and I couldn’t imagine him trusting someone else enough to do it. Having Maxim surrender control to me was intoxicating, and the feeling was back in full fucking swing now.
Just breathe and focus on his cues. I gave myself a mental shake before turning my full attention back on Maxim. His chest heaved and his forehead was slightly creased; he was nervous and scared. I leaned over him and kissed him while my lubed-up fingers wrapped around his cock.
The kiss was slow and deep, never becoming needy or frantic. We tasted each other like we had all the time in the fucking world, and for that time, it felt like we did. None of the other bullshit mattered when I had Maxim this close. My sole concern was his happiness, and I knew I could succeed at that.
At the time my tongue skimmed over the roof of his mouth, I pressed a finger past the tight ring of muscle fighting to keep me out. He moaned into the kiss, and I pushed more. When I added a second finger, he tore away from my mouth and hissed.
I kissed and licked at his exposed neck and told him to breathe and relax for me. “I want you so fucking badly. I dream about being inside you and making you mine again.” Another finger. “Tell me you want that, Max.”
I brushed his prostate, and he whimpered.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” he pleaded on a broken sob. “God, yes, Rem.”
I withdrew my fingers and fumbled the bottle of lube. I could have blamed it on my slippery hands, but that wasn’t it. My hands were shaking. I balled my fist and took deep breaths to try to calm my nerves. Maxim trusted me, and I had to believe he wouldn’t if he thought I’d hurt him.
With that in mind, I slicked up my cock, and rubbed it over his hole while I got in position, kneeling between his legs. I looked up to meet Maxim’s gaze, relieved when I saw nothing but want in his eyes. He nodded once, then let his head fall back on a rough sigh as I pushed inside of him.
“Fucking hell, Max,” I gritted out. He was so fucking hot and tight. My fingers dug into his thighs and my body tensed while I gave him a chance to adjust to me and willed myself to calm the fuck down.
I shifted my hips back, testing how he’d respond. When I saw him bite his lip and heard the low, sultry moan, I went for it. My hips rocked into him with long, deep thrusts that grazed over his prostate, judging from his wide eyes and vocal reaction. I kept my pace slow yet steady, focusing all of my energy on staving off my orgasm and drawing every last bit of pleasure out of Maxim that I could.
The leftover tension bled out of him, and he was truly mine. I slid my hands down lower, toward his groin, and snapped my hips forward hard enough to cause a loud smack in the otherwise quiet room.
The sound that fell from Maxim’s lips had me smiling. Something between a moan and a muffled curse—but not quite. Maxim wasn’t the type to curse often, and I’d be eternally proud if I could fuck one out of him. With a new goal in mind, I let go of one of his legs, leaned forward, and grabbed his left shoulder for leverage. I fucked him hard, though not enough to hurt him. He wasn’t the little pain slut I had the tendency to be.
Sweat dripped from my nose and hair, mingling with Maxim’s on his chest, and I felt exhaustion start to seep into my muscles. I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t, even if it killed me—my cardio was bad enough that it might.
Digging deep, I pressed on, every thrust bringing me closer to falling over the edge. Maxim was right there with me. His breathing sped up, and one of his hands went to his cock, stroking it in time with my movements.
“I’m so fucking close,” I said, knowing my words would help get him there.
On a series of strangled grunts and sighs, Maxim exploded between us. His hot cum dripped from my chest while his ass clenched around me, taking me over the edge.
I didn’t just fall; I fucking ran and dove off headfirst.
My entire body trembled with the force of my orgasm, and I collapsed on Maxim’s heaving chest, spent and boneless. “Holy fucking shit.”
Maxim rubbed my back in soothing circles, not seeming to mind that I was a sweaty fucking mess. He kissed the top of my head, and I took my initiative to at least get up high enough to kiss him one last time before I expired.
I slowly eased out of him, then crawled over his leg and higher up the bed to rest my head on his shoulder. I stretched, and he met me halfway in a lazy kiss.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi. Did you wash the sheets?”
“Yeah,” I rasped, sounding even worse now that I was out of breath.
“Thank you. Are you all right?”
I held up my hand with my index finger and thumb joined in the “a-okay” symbol. “Dying, but okay.”
“You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?” Maxim asked, propping himself up on an elbow.
“I could ask you the same thing, you know.”
He narrowed his eyes at me, and I snorted.
“It’s a little tender”—I touched my neck—“but I’m fine. I’ll let you look at it and feel me up later. I just need to die right now.”
Seemingly pleased with that, he picked up my hand, entwined our fingers, then kissed mine. “Thank you for tonight. For all of it. I…” His fingers began to absently trace one of my roses.
; My breathing stopped, and I waited for him to finish.
“I love you, Remy.”
Relief flooded me, and I fought back the tears that stung my eyes. “I love you too, Max.”
No more fucking crying.
Fourteen
Remy
With Valentine’s Day behind us, I set my sights on the next important day: Maxim’s birthday. Thanks to Bryan’s help, Valentine’s turned out fucking amazing. It was an important day for me and Maxim, and I wanted his birthday to be as well. The weeks since then had been great too. I hadn’t caught Maxim being as obsessive over his scar, and a small part of me began to believe that maybe I could stay with Maxim—even if I believed I didn’t deserve it.
Nothing significant or world-changing happened, I just felt like it could work from the small, everyday interactions we had. I actually liked cooking for him, and I wanted to improve my limited skills. Cleaning wasn’t my favorite, but seeing Maxim so happy made the menial work not so bad. I’d never be a fucking Stepford wife, though I was doing better. We were living an ordinary life—one that I imagined we would have had had I never left, and it was everything.
As blissfully ordinary and spectacular as it was, our arrangement wasn’t without flaws. We both had a knack for not willingly discussing difficult shit, which was how three more lovely weeks had gone by without any talk of what the hell I was doing. Was I living with Max now? It seemed that way—and it sure felt like it—but I knew better than to put stock into an assumption. At least I used to.
My contrary ass didn’t seem to mind making assumptions this time. I already knew what Maxim would say too. He saw things in black and white; I was with him now, and I was staying. End of story. My vision was normally gray.
My “normal” hadn’t exactly worked out for me, so I was trying it Maxim’s way.
In the past, we’d have spent his birthday getting pizza, watching movies, and fucking. That was more or less what we’d been doing during his recovery, so I wanted to give him a different experience. We stuck to that when we were younger because I was all he had. After he’d aged out of foster care, he was on his own, and I was right there with him.
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