Page 103 of Mr. Wilde

His words make me suck harder as I bob up and down on him.

“Play with your pretty pussy.”

I gratefully comply. I’m so turned on it’s maddening.

“Spread your legs wider. I need to see how swollen and wet you are.”

Max holds onto my hair as he fucks my face. Tears are tracking down my cheeks. I never knew I would love this type of dominance. Suddenly, Max withdraws before reaching down to lift me up by my shoulders. “I’ve waited so long, baby. Can I sink inside you?”

“Yes, Max. Please.”

He pushes me down so I’m bent over the edge of the bed, and I hold my breath, unsure if he’ll slam into me or turn my ass pink like before. I jolt in surprise as I feel his tongue connect with my aching center.

“Max,” I whimper.

He continues to lick me from behind until I feel him stand. Looking over my shoulder, I watch as he retrieves his wallet from his pants, pulling out a condom. Tearing the packet open with his teeth, he quickly rolls it on before swiping the tip through my dripping sex. Max lets out a loud growl before grabbing my hips and pulling me back toward him. He slams into me with a forceful thrust and stills.

God, how I’ve missed the feel of him stretching me. I rock my hips from side to side, trying to accommodate him.

His body lies flush against mine, his arm reaching around me to tease my clit as he starts to move.

There’s no containing the unintelligible noises falling from my lips. I’m so close, it won’t take much to push me over the edge. The sound of wet skin connecting with skin is making me crazy as he pounds into me.

“Fuck, Cass,” he groans.

The familiar tightening of my thighs signals my impending orgasm is near, and I hold onto my bed linens for dear life.

Max’s fingers push down harder on my clit as he thrusts into me. It doesn’t take long before the much-needed friction causes my climax to hit me full force.

“Max!” I cry out as he continues to pound into me, and I clench around him as white dots dance behind my eyelids.

“Fuck, baby. Fuck.” He gives a few more strong pumps of his hips. “You’re going to make me come so hard. Is that what you want?”

“Yes. Please,” I beg.

With three more pumps, he lets out a roar and stills, groaning out his release.

We lie frozen in place, trying to catch our breath.

Max reaches up to move my hair away from my neck, placing soft kisses there, continuing to glide his cock in and out of me.

“I had no idea sex could be like this,” I whisper into the bed.

“Neither did I,” he replies, reaching down to flip me over, pulling me against his chest. “I know this isn’t very romantic, but…”

I narrow my eyes, wondering where on earth he’s going with this conversation.

“I plan on making you cry out my name for the rest of my life.”

I giggle. Sounds just fine by me.

41

MAX

It’s been months of back-and-forth—Hanover to New York, New York to Hanover—and for the first time in a decade, I’m living my days to the fullest, hoping Isla will be proud.

Working with the counselor isn’t a magic fix for all of my issues, but the sessions are helping. Even the trips to see my parents are becoming manageable. We don’t just sit in a room of polished marble and heavy silence anymore. We talk. It’s not deep conversation, but at least it’s more than the stilted water cooler stuff from before.