I freeze at this. He’s never kissed me before. And it’s my first, leaving me confused as to what I’m supposed to do. Not to mention his men are probably watching. It’s one thing to sit on his lap in front of them, but it’s another to be intimate.
The sensation of Maximus’s tongue plunging between my lips has me shutting out the world, eager to enjoy this new discovery. He gets to his feet with me in his arms and heads to the rear of the plane, but my eyes are closed by then because all I can think about is the way he’s swirling his tongue, flicking it, and running it along the outline of my mouth.
After closing the bedroom door with his foot, he lays me down on the bed. Then I lock my arms around his neck, yanking him to me. His small huff of laughter brushes my lips as he positions his body over mine. Then he’s devouring me. Exhilaration soars within me at the intensity of his hunger. And it’s building with every stroke and every caress.
Can kissing be just as intimate as sex? In this moment, for this woman, it is.
Maximus pulls his mouth from mine, and I make a sound of protest, which has him grinning at me. My heart flips in my chest at the beauty of it, but then my heart nearly stops at his words.
“I’m going to fuck you, Emilia. Right here and right now,” he says, his eyes glittering with something beyond lust. “I’m telling you, not asking, so offer your cunt to me or I’ll be forced to take what I need.”
“Do it.”
His gaze widens, his pupils contracting before his eyes search my face intensely. I nod once to affirm what he’s not asking, and Maximus’s expression turns savage. Within seconds, our clothes are discarded on the floor, long forgotten. He runs his hands the length of my body before grabbing the backs of my thighs in a tight grip. My husband doesn’t waste any time and thrusts into my body with a tortured groan.
“You’re always ready for me.” He says this with a tone laced in ecstasy and disbelief. “So fucking wet and still tight even though I’ve pounded the fuck out of you.”
I can only respond with a moan and digging my nails into his back, needing him closer. I want him in me, on me, with me. I want his air in my lungs, and his touch imprinted on my skin. I want his words in my mouth and his kisses on my lips. This need must be what he mentioned before, a consuming, primal desire to obtain relief, but it’s more than that.
It’s the connection between two people, a union of not only bodies but souls.
My husband rides me long and hard until I’m shaking with the need to come, followed by the need to scream. My orgasm hits me at my core, and I spiral into an abyss where pleasure envelops me, as does Maximus’s arms. He laces our fingers, holding on to me but letting go of his control. His groan of release is muffled against the skin of my neck, and his breaths take a long while to slow.
In the time it takes my heart rate to normalize, I lie there in a state of euphoria and confusion. Maximus kissed me. Why? To soothe my fears or distract me? I doubt the latter was his motivation because I was nearly calm by that time. Asking him wouldn’t be worth the humiliation, and I don’t want him to gain an inkling of what it meant to me.
He lifts his head, and I hide my thoughts with a neutral expression. “Are you all right?” he asks. I nod with a blush heating my cheeks at the informality of the question. Maximus scans my face and cocks his head, causing his hair to sway. My fingers twitch with the desire to touch him openly and without reprimand.
“Was that your first kiss?” He makes a clicking sound with his tongue when I turn my head and brings my gaze back to his by taking my chin in hand. “You always hide your eyes when you don’t want to answer, but you’ll find I’m relentless in getting what I want.”
I know that about him, on a deeper level than he might think.
“Yes,” I whisper. Heat floods my cheeks as soon as the admission leaves me. The embarrassment within me compounds at the widening of his eyes. “Why do you always ask me such personal questions?”
Immediately I clamp my lips together, scolding myself for talking back to him. I have no idea how he’ll react, and it’s not like I’ve been able to understand or foresee his actions lately. Maximus hasn’t been behaving how he did the night we got married, so every word, every look, is similar to a game of Russian roulette. I could win, or I could lose.
Badly.
“I—”
He places his finger to my lips, smothering the apology forming there. I search his gaze for a hint of emotion, whether negative or not. As usual, his expression is indiscernible.
“I ask you,” he says, dropping his hand from my mouth, “because I want confirmation.”
“I don’t understand. If you already suspected, then why does my say-so matter?”
“I want—no,need—to hear you say it.” Maximus tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear, and my insides warm. “I can’t explain it.”
“There are plenty of other women who are without experience. Maybe not because their fathers kept them prisoner for years, but still.”
Maximus’s eyes narrow infinitesimally at the mention of Caruso, and I hope I haven’t ruined this moment by bringing up my father. He’s relevant to the conversation but not to my life.
“There are women who are pure,” Maximus says, bringing my attention back to him. “However, they are not pure of heart.”
I shrug. “No one is.”
He gives me a strange look. “I believe you are.”
“No.” I shake my head several times, and he arches a brow. “I’d happily shoot my father.” I sigh and purse my lips. “I’m glad you hate him as much as I do, because like you said earlier, you’re relentless in getting what you want, so it’s only a matter of time before he’s dead. I will rest easier knowing my father is gone, but I do rest easy now just knowing you’re going after him.”
