The sorrow I'd felt in the car is replaced with a franticneed to feel normal again. As quickly as possible. I want to run a marathon to normality. To have every emotional state settle into their rightful places and not change the perfect world Max and I have created for ourselves.
I want him to look at me. In the eyes. I lift my head, resting my chin on hot, smooth tattooed skin. "Look at me, Max."
He peers down at me, his gaze vacant—like something is missing. "I am."
"Properly," I say as I drag my fingers up his back and down again. "Like you used to."
His brows draw together. "I am, Little One."
"You're not. You're looking right through me," I say, my voice faltering. "It's like you can’t stand the sight of me."
Shaking his head, he narrows his eyes. "That isn't what this look is."
"I want you to touch me." I reach for his hand and bring his fingers down to the delta between my thighs. As desire builds through me, I become desperate for him. He clenches his jaw, trying to stifle his groan as I use his fingers to stroke my lips. "I'm wet for you already, Max."
"No, Cassidy. Not tonight."
Sinking like a boulder into the pit of my belly is fear. Fear he's going to leave me. Fear he doesn’t want me anymore. Need me anymore. "Please, Max. I'm not ruined."
"What?" He pulls his hand away from mine and grabs the side of my neck, finally staring into my eyes like he used to. Penetrative. Intense. "Don’t ever say shit like that to me!" he growls, low and deep, and I love the angry undertone.
Wanting him to channel that energy and release it between my thighs, I whisper, "He didn't touch me that much. Just a litt?—"
"Stop trying to downplay what just happened to you,goddamn it! You don't need to do that." Stroking the bruise below my eyes with his thumb, he winces as if it causes him physical discomfort.
I put my hand over his. "I want to."
"Well, if you want to, then fine. But don't you fucking dare do it for me. This can play out however you want it to. No one is going to tell you how to feel."
"Please touch me then. That's what I want," I beg. "Please. I want to feel your fingers. Your tongue. Your penis. Anything. Everything. Please."
He leans into my ear. "Do you want me to fuck you with my tongue, Little One?"
Relief fills my chest when he kneels in front of me. His hands adore my legs and thighs, tracing the curves, squeezing the soft flesh. I shouldn't want this after what happened. This is shameful. But it’s normal. For us. This is normal and that's what I crave. Our world. Our thing.
He pushes me back until I'm wedged between him and the shower screen before lifting my leg onto his shoulder. His tongue dives between my lips. I buck immediately at the feeling of his penetrative, greedy kiss.
"Max.More," I moan and his tongue assaults me from every angle. "More."
His mouth closes around my clit like a vice, sucking hard. Arching on the wave of pleasure he's summoning, my thigh twitches on his shoulder. His hand slides up between my legs, and a thumb pushes between my lips, rubbing the muscles inside me as they knead back in want. In desire. The intensity of his strokes and the heat of the shower is consuming.
"Fuck, Little One," he groans against my skin. "I'll always want you. I go insane for you."
God, he's so good at this. Squeezing my eyes shut, myhead drops back onto the shower wall. I purr into his face, rubbing myself against the rough stubble on his jawline. His lips and tongue are hot on my clit. Fingers stimulating every nerve ending inside me. Steam blankets us. That sweaty, wet lethargy of our world settles into my soul. He's greedy tonight, insatiable, unrestrained. It's dizzying.
Weakening...
"Women were created so weak. Small. Fragile. And with this little part of your body, we can control you. Max controls you with it, too. Doesn't he? We literally enter you. Like the devil himself. We enter you."
I freeze.
No breath.
Max gets wilder between my legs, but now it makes me cower.
I want it to stop.
I start to sob, loud and unsoundly. Pushing him away, I fall onto my bum.
