by Jenna Jacob
The rich, masculine scent of the liquid seeping from his crest and dribbling down my fingers made my mouth water. I nipped the tip of his berry-hard nipple, and Max let out a feral growl before sinking a fist into my hair. I felt his fingers twitch as if he wanted to clench my mane and take control, but he quelled the urge. It made me want to stay inside the vanilla lines, as well. It was difficult, but I felt freer than I’d ever thought possible.
As I worked my lips and tongue down his ripped-velvet torso, I stared at his engorged red crest, slick and oozing copiously in need. My breasts were pressed against his forearm, and my progress southward was halted. Frustration pelted me. The need to swirl my tongue over the tip of his cock, to taste his salty nectar as it exploded over my taste buds, was driving me insane.
I thrust my hips backward until Max’s fingers slid from my tunnel before easing onto the floor. Eye level with his glorious shaft, I flattened my tongue and stretched my mouth around him.
“Ah, fuck. Fuck. God…Sam. Yes. Your mouth… So fucking hot. Slick. Feels… Oh, god. Yes. Incredible.”
I loved that I’d inundated him with so much pleasure that he’d gone mindless and couldn’t string a sentence together. With my eyes locked on the blissful expressions rippling over his face, I fisted his throbbing shaft and cupped his balls as I sucked and swirled my tongue around his pulsating veins.
Max massaged my scalp, sending tingles to race down my spine as I bobbed up and down his hot shaft. I could almost feel the burn of him stretching my pussy as he inched through my folds to fill my core. I rocked my hips, anxious to experience that incredible splendor again.
He sucked in a ragged breath as he gazed down at me with a glassy stare. “You’re so fucking beautiful, and your mouth…it’s way past sinful.”
Pride and peace, like glowing embers, warmed the empty places inside me.
Slivers of my submissive dream fluttered through my mind. Like feathers brushing at memories, the abandoned sub within ached to slide into the sublime serenity of long ago. But thoughts of dismantling Sammie wove together like a fence, barring me from stepping closer to the paradise that beckoned me.
Vanilla. Vanilla, I inwardly repeated as I struggled to gain a foothold on the present. Then on a cold gust, the realization that I was sucking Max’s cock on bended knees blew through me on a gale-force wind. Panic roared in my ears. Somehow I managed to maintain the rhythm of my undulating mouth as Sammie crumbled within.
A cascade of excuses spilled in my brain as I clawed to retain an uncomplicated balance within.
You couldn’t reach his cock any other way.
You’re still in control of the pleasure he’s receiving.
This is the best position to give head.
Okay, I knew that last one was a lie, but the frenzy within began receding, so I clung to my rationale like a child to the string of a balloon.
Still, the vow to never kneel before another thrashed inside me.
I slowly pulled my mouth off him and stood. When I gave Max’s shoulder a slight shove, he willingly fell back against the mattress. With a hungry stare, I climbed on top of him. As I straddled his narrow waist, he gripped my hips and slammed me onto his wicked cock. I let out a yelp as my muscles stretched tightly and burned so sweetly.
With a guttural moan, Max bucked into my hot core. My muscles fluttered around him, welcoming him inside me. He thrust deep and cupped my breasts in his palms before thumbing my nipples, sending me sailing higher than the heavens.
His eyes locked on mine, and I stared in awe as they shimmered like fiery opals.
“You fucking glow, Sam…like alabaster.”
Glancing down, I noticed the shock of my pale ivory skin melded around his waist. His sun-kissed flesh gave off a startling contrast.
He made me feel safe…in this strange and different world.
Protected…though vulnerabilities—like wily ghosts—floated beneath my veil of denial.
Desired…as a woman and sub, while my Dominant alter ego stood silent on the sidelines.
Max reached up and tangled a hand in my hair, guiding my lips to his mouth. I melted across his solid chest as friction flamed to an all-consuming inferno of raw and desperate passion.
I clung to his shoulders, feeling his copious muscles flex and roll beneath his velvety flesh. Max sank his strong fingers into the cheeks of my ass. Picking up speed, he grunted as he shuttled me up and down, slamming me into each savage thrust.
I whimpered and wedged a hand between our slapping flesh to stroke my aching clit.
Unable to form words, I pushed off his chest with one hand and purred his name. A flicker of delight danced in his eyes as a tiny smile tugged his mouth. Max didn’t have to read my mind…he already knew my weakness was him.
Jolts of pleasure burst through me, igniting a chain reaction that would all too soon decimate me. A part of me waited, expecting him to whisper the command for me to come. Such a blatant submissive notion should have crushed a part of me, but demand—alive and spiking—overruled all rationale of right or wrong.
I whimpered his name in a blatant plea. Max might have ignored the slip of submission I’d dangled in front of him, but his eyes flared with fire. His face contorted. His body tensed. Clutching my hips in a beastly hold, he drove in deep and held me fixed to the base of his shaft. My fingers whirled over my clit. I felt his cock expand. Heat blasted through me like a cannon. White light, bright and blinding, exploded inside me. I threw my head back and screamed his name. With a roar, Max bellowed mine as well as his hot seed showered my quivering walls.
Equal parts bliss and fear shot through me.
We hadn’t used a condom!
The outer edges of ecstasy began to grow dark, stained with a foreboding fear. Max thrust deeper as he emptied the last of his seed inside me with a long, satisfied moan. Bliss warred with fragments of logic that desperately tried to swim to the surface. Either he hadn’t thought about being bareback or the ominous consequences of our actions hadn’t yet registered. They would soon enough. I tensed.
“We’re in trouble. We forgot the condom, and I’m not on the pill,” I blurted out, stealing the look of sated euphoria clinging to his face.
As if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, Max bolted upright, nearly tipping me off the bed backward. Gripping my hips, he dragged his wide eyes to our joined crotches. Terror morphed over his features. A spike of insult pierced my chest. Looking up at me, he didn’t say a word, simply stared for several long seconds before he raised both brows.
“You’re not on the pill?”
“No. Have you…uh…”
Shit! I didn’t know how to ask him how many women he’d ridden without a saddle before me. Was he a carrier of any STDs? Overwhelmed, I could feel a full-blown panic attack bearing down on me.
Max just looked at me and started to chuckle. “We both got a bit carried away, didn’t we?”
“How can you laugh at this?”
“There’s not much else to do.” He shrugged. “What’s done is done. We can’t go back and change anything. I’ve… Wow! I’ve never once forgotten to glove up. I mean, I get checked regularly and haven’t been with anyone but you since my last check-up, so I’m clean.”
He arched a brow, silently asking if the same held true with me.
“I’m clean, too, but that still doesn’t… Oh, god,” I moaned.
Max cupped my cheeks and fixed me with a firm stare. “If we happened to have made a mini-Gunn just now, we’ll deal with it together. All right?”
“No! It’s not all right. I’m thirty-eight years old. Women my age are becoming grandmothers, for shit’s sake. I don’t want a baby. I’m too damn old!”
A troubled look lined his face. “I’m not laying blame on you, Sam, but if you don’t want kids, why aren’t you on the pill?”
His caveat and the lack of accusation in his tone might have freed me from feeling guilt but did nothing to stop the embarrassment climbing within. Hon
estly, who wants to admit they haven’t a normal sex life in…forever?
“There wasn’t a need for me to take the pill,” I replied with feigned self-assurance. “I don’t do relationships. They only complicate things.”
Max’s lips twitched. “I’m sorry you feel that way, ’cause your life’s about to get a whole lot more complicated, Sam.”
I suddenly couldn’t speak past the lump in my throat. Oh, my mouth was moving, opening and closing like a trout on dry land, but not one word came out.
“Easy, baby,” he whispered. “Don’t freak out on me. Got it?”
I swallowed tightly and finally removed the blockage. “I’ll freak out any way I want!”
“Yes. I know. You always do, but now’s not the time to push me away and take off running.”
“I-I-I don’t run from anything.”
Liar!
Bristling, I tried to wiggle off his cock still speared inside me. “Don’t, Sam.”
“Don’t what? Don’t get pissed? Too late!”
“I can see that. Your eyes go dark and turn a pretty shade of sapphire when you’re ticked off. I don’t want you angry. We have to talk this out.”
“No, we don’t. If I’m pregnant, I’ll deal with it.”
Max reared back as if I’d slapped him. “Deal with it how? I won’t let you abort my child.”
“I’d never do that. I was raised Catholic. I meant I’d raise the baby…alone.”
He grunted and shook his head. “No, you’re not doing that, either. If you’re pregnant, we’ll raise our child together.”
I closed my eyes and counted to ten…twice. When I’d calmed to a slightly more rational level, I looked at him. Max stared back at me with a blank expression, as if he was safeguarding his true emotions until I’d had my say.
“I can’t raise a child with you. I can barely navigate the fact that we’re two Doms. This…thing between us isn’t going to last, Max. It will eventually burn out or self-destruct, and we both know it. There’s absolutely no way I’m going to compound one mistake with another.”
“Babies aren’t mistakes and neither is the attraction between us.” A secret smile played over his lips. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”
Though I was technically old enough to be a grandmother, I’d been young once and dreamed of having Desmond’s child. The fact that I’d never conceived was both a blessing and a curse. There wasn’t a living breathing part of him left in the world, but I’d barely managed to keep myself together after his death. I’d have been a complete and total failure as a mother.
“Fine. If I’m pregnant, I’ll give you the kid to raise. How’s that?”
As the lie flew off my lips, the devastation and pain reflecting in Max’s eyes filled me with regret. No way could I carry a child in my womb, give birth, and cast a baby off as if it were a pair of unwanted jeans.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“You did, or you wouldn’t have said it,” he replied flatly.
Begrudgingly, Max lifted me off his cock and eased me onto the mattress. He sat up and stood before striding across the room to pluck up his jeans and tee.
“No, I honestly didn’t. I was lashing out in anger,” I confessed. “I do want children…or I mean I did…once upon a time.”
“Just not with me. I get it.” The rejection etched over his face singed me to the core.
Rising, I moved toward him and cupped my hand to his face. “I think we’d make beautiful children, Max. You’ll make a phenomenal father. I’m sorry. I say things I don’t mean when I’m scared. I didn’t mean for my words to stab and hurt you.”
“I know why you do it. But you still managed to slice open an artery. Don’t worry, I heal quickly.” Max pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “I need to go…get some fresh air. I’ll see you at the club tomorrow night.”
Now who’s running?
“I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know when you find out if you’re pregnant or not. Okay?”
“Of course. Max…I truly am sorry. It’s just…”
I can’t stand feeling so out of control. Feel too much for you already. Don’t want you to leave me. Want you to hold me and promise everything will be all right.
“I know.” With a sad smile, he turned and left the room.
As the front door snicked shut, I wrapped my arms around my waist and sank to the edge of the bed. An empty hollowness ate at my soul until there was nothing left of the brilliant light Max had gifted me with.
Numbly, I rose, grabbed my robe, and padded to the kitchen to fix a cup of tea. While the leaves steeped, I flipped through the pages of the calendar on the wall. I noted the stars on the dates, indicating the start of my menstrual cycle. My periods had been like clockwork since I was a teen, but when they’d started going berserk, I’d gone to see my gynecologist. Last fall she’d confirmed that I was in the beginning stages of menopause.
My cycles were as hit and miss as a blind man tossing darts in a bar. There was no way of knowing if I was ovulating right now or not. The only pot of gold at the end of my bleak rainbow was that Max and I were both clean. His gun might have fired a live round and mortally shot up one of my eggs, but at least I was free and clear of herpes.
“If I hadn’t been so damn fixated about being on my fucking knees, I might have remembered to grab a condom,” I groused. Pressing a palm to my belly, I closed my eyes and sent out a plea to the universe. “Please don’t let me be pregnant. Please.”
Like a living, breathing thing, apprehension pulsed through my veins while anger at myself for verbally lashing Sam again smoldered. I couldn’t control whether or not the rabbit was dead, but I had to accept one truth: Max could see through my Dominant veil. It was pointless to deny that fact or try to run and hide from the visceral attraction I felt toward him.
I cupped the mug of tea, wandered into the living room, and curled up on the couch. I started scrolling through the channels. The first movie I stumbled upon was Baby Boom, followed by Mommy Dearest, The Stepmom, and finally Little Man Tate. It was a single-mom marathon. With a growl, I turned off the TV and tossed the remote aside.
It was after midnight, but my internal clock—which had adjusted itself to working until the wee hours of the morning—refused to unwind enough for me to try and go to bed. Since theaters and restaurants were now closed, my entertainment options were limited. I could take a jog or hop in my car and hit the all-night grocery for a tub of ice cream. My mouth began to water. I bolted off the couch and ran back to my room. After changing into a pair of yoga pants and an oversized tee, I grabbed my purse and raced out the door.
Standing in the frozen foods section, I vacillated between chocolate almond fudge and praline pecan. The sound of male laughter grew loud, and I turned my head as Eli and two college-aged boys rounded the aisle, shoving one another and playfully shouting insults. As Eli and I made eye contact, the grin on his face was replaced by a look of shock. He briefly dragged a gaze over my casual clothes before awkwardly lowering his lashes. The wave of embarrassment and fear rolling off him was sturdy and palpable.
I snatched the tub of chocolate almond, and without a word—protecting his anonymity and mine—I brushed past him. After I rounded the corner, I pressed my fingers to my forehead and tried to rub away the headache I’d been ignoring since Max had left.
Max.
I pressed a palm to my stomach as a shudder quaked through me.
“Miss…err, Sammie?” Eli murmured from behind me. As I spun around, my eyes grew wide. “I wanted to apologize for…well, you know. I didn’t know if I should say some—”
“Don’t apologize. You did exactly what you were supposed to do.” Grabbing a bag of potato chips off an endcap display, I shoved them into his hand. “Here. Take these to your friends before they see us talking. You can’t explain how you know me without lying or confessing about being a member of the club…and you know that’s against the rules.”
Eli gave me a weak
nod, then clutched the chips and hurried away.
I exhaled a heavy sigh and hurried in the other direction. Standing in the aisle amid feminine products, I stared at the various home pregnancy kits, trying to determine which was the quickest and most reliable. Giving up, I grabbed four different brands and hurried toward the cashier. After placing the items on the belt, I heard the rowdy boys once again.
Please let them keep shopping. The silent mantra spooled through my head as I blankly stared at the cashier while he finished with the customer in front of me. In my peripheral vision, I saw Eli and his friends crowd in behind me. The pregnancy tests lay in the open flashing like neon signs. Turning slightly, I saw Eli’s eyes widen as he stared at the kits. He paled and darted a look of sadness and confusion my way.
Shit! Why had I decided to buy the damn things now?
“I need to get some air. I’ll meet you guys outside,” Eli announced to his friends before turning and racing away.
My head pounded even harder. I briefly closed my eyes and exhaled a heavy sigh. After paying for my purchases, I hurried toward my car.
“Are you?” Eli’s angry words stopped me in my tracks as he jogged from behind a stone pillar. “Are you pregnant?”
There were big, fat crocodile tears in his eyes.
“They’re not mine, boy. They’re for one of the subs at the club,” I lied, donning a cold Dominant tone.
“Oh, thank god.” A rush of air exploded from his mouth. “Who’s pregnant?”
“That’s none of your business now is it?”
“Right,” he mumbled and lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry, Mistr—”
“Christ, Eli,” cried one of his friends now hurrying toward us. “We’ll get you laid before the night’s through, man. You don’t have to hit on old ladies.”