I hear the slick glide of lube and the low curse he lets out as he coats his dick, getting it ready for me.
“Breathe for me, baby,” he soothes, and I do. “Show me how deep you can take it.”
And then he’s there, the dildo notching my pussy and his cock brushing my arsehole. He’s patient and slow, breaching me inch by inch at the same time until I’m soincrediblyfull.
My mouth drops open and a broken moan escapes me. My thighs tremble, every nerve set alight. He’s buried to the hilt. My hand curls underneath me, down to my core, and I hold his hand with the dildo in place.
“I want to do it,” I pant.
He bends forward, planting a kiss to my back before giving the dildo up and gripping my waist.
I’m overcome with emotion—with the realization that Max not only makes it his mission to satisfy me completely but to listen to what I crave.
Then, finally, we move. He works my arse over, matching the rhythm of his cock to the dildo.
“You like that?” he grits out. “Having every tight hole stuffed?”
I nod as he plows into me, over and over.
I can’t speak; I just move.
He snarls, snapping his hips harder, and I scream his name, needing the burn so badly. His hands go to my buttocks, kneading and squeezing as he hauls me into his thrusts.
My tits bounce and the headboard bangs against the wall. I’m sure the whole building can hear every depraved and sinful noise we’re making, but I don’t have it in me to care.
Let them hear.
Let the world know that this manownsme.
“So—so good,” I manage, my voice wobbly.
I’m barely holding it together as he fucks into me at a bruising pace. My pussy sucks the dildo inside me as I grind, and I feel my muscles tighten—that telltale flutter of an orgasm already building again.
“I won’t last much longer,” he growls.
This is my favorite part, when he can no longer hold back. My stomach flutters with pride knowing that I can strip away all his composure and drive him to the edge.
“I’m s—so close,” I say.
“I’m going to come in this arse,” he says, sinking his fingers into my soft flesh.
“Max,” I murmur brokenly.
“Gemma!”
He chokes out my name. I detonate at the same time as he roars, his thickness swelling and spilling his heat inside me. I clench around him and he doesn’t relent, thundering into me. This is it. This is nirvana.
Blackness clouds my vision just as he finishes and my body slumps, completely spent. My arse overflows with him, oozing down my thigh.
Finally, when we collapse together, he gathers me in his arms, breathing hard. He presses his lips to my forehead tenderly.
“I love you,” he whispers, nudging my nose with his.
My eyes shine with affection as I take him in. All of him, flushed and gorgeous in his afterglow.
I used to think that letting someone in led to loss of control. But as I stare into Max’s kind eyes, I realize now that running from love meant running from myself. Maybe we’ll mess it up. Maybe we won’t. But at least he’s shown me that true love stays. That it isn’t conditional or judgmental. It doesn’t require you to be perfect or have everything figured out. It doesn’t see your chipped edges and reject you. It exposes your most vulnerable parts and nurtures them. It doesn’t ask anything more than to trust. It doesn’t ask you to be someone else. It justis.
This man has earned my heart, and I’m finally ready to hand it over.
