Page 21 of Misadventures with a Time Traveler

“His don’t interest me.” She angles a leg higher. Digs her heel into the middle of my back. “Just bury yours deeper. Please, Max!”

Her breathy desperation is my final undoing. My cock throbs as I thrust harder. Faster. Deeper.

“Yes, Max. Please!”

My legs tense. My backside bunches. Bittersweet tension builds in my balls—and torments my mind. “I—I do not want to hurt you.”

She drags her fingers across my mouth. Looks me straight in the eyes. “Hurt me, Maximillian.”

My chest tightens. My cock swells. “Fuck.” I can utter nothing else. Can think nothing else. I have been delivered to paradise by this woman. By her sweet, soft curves and her bold, bright sensuality.

And her unabashed, incredible honesty.

“Do it.” She slides her hand down, surely leaving more marks with her brutal gouges in my chest. I am beyond caring. I rut into her harder, like the untamed animal I feel. I am overtaken by the urges to claim, to possess, to breed, to fuck, to own.

A sound escapes her. A whimper mixed with a cry. The sound weaves into my lust.

“Give it to me, Alessandra.” I enforce the order by slamming a brief but brutal kiss to her lips. “Give it to me now, mon miracle. Let me feel that hot burst in every inch of your sweet, succulent cavern.”

“Max!” she grates back. “Damn!”

“Do it, my beauty.” I bite the curve of her jaw. “I want every sweet drop. Every perfect spasm.”

The smacks of our bodies echo off the bedroom walls. I’m buried deep, delivering the pain—and the pleasure—for which she pleaded so prettily. I stare at every inch of her face, memorizing her. The aroused ridges in her forehead. The dark fans of her lashes against her cheeks. The glistening beads of sweat on her neck.

The climaxing cataclysm of her body.

“Oh, my God. Oh, holy shit!”

Her channel convulses around me. Tighter. Tighter still. I hear myself groan as if from a distance. Unsurprising. This dream goddess is ripping the thoughts from my mind, the morality from my soul, the control from my body—

The release from my loins.

“Blessed…fuck!” I am bursting. Shattering. Emptying. I am lightning and light, fire and fury, creation and damnation, completely lost but utterly found. I am so far gone with fulfillment, I barely care about my issue being wasted inside the bizarre sheepskin into which she has stuffed my manhood. For now, I cherish only this moment.

The miracle of finding her.

The completion of taking her.

The triumph of surviving the ordeal in that wardrobe, which seems more viable by the second. Remarkably, I am still here. Still spilling the last of my heat inside her. Still claiming soft kisses from her lips. Still reveling in her heartbeat, thumping against mine. Still basking in the glory of her dewy nudity and her satisfied sighs.

Still forcing my mind to accept that this has happened.

Exactly as Kavia said it would.

Do you want to live, Maximillian? Then listen to me.

In your tomorrows, trust your heart.

She was right.

Every word of it.

Which means…

I cannot be careless about the second part of her decree.

One cycle of the moon. Before it is done, she must declare her love for you out loud, before witnesses, or the enchantment is broken.