"Fuck," he says through clenched teeth.
All I can manage to say with his finger in my mouth is his name. "Max."
His thumb pops out and he cups my cheeks with both hands. “What do you want?”
My cheeks heat beneath his palms. "You know what I want."
"I'm not monogamous. You know that, right?"
I swallow past the flashing image of Max and the pretty redhead, and I disregard the monster inside me that screams my true discomfort. "Yes."
"I need to hear you say it." His thumb strokes my cheek. "Say, I understand this is just sex."
"I understand this is just sex."
"You can't expect anything more from me. I won't be giving it to you."
"I know," I whisper.
When his hands start moving around my neck, my head rolls and my breathing speeds up. I close my eyes and moan a little, the sensation both relaxing and arousing.
"What have you done with other guys?"
My eyes open, but I don't look at him. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
I look up. His eyes are smouldering. "Max, nothing. I've done nothing. I've made out with boys, that's all."
A slow grin spreads across his lips. "What do you do to yourself?"
I cover my face with my palms. The silence between us thickens like glue, pulling us together.
"Answer the question," he orders, pulling my hands down and putting them on his hard chest.
My fingers flex over the fabric of his shirt, which does little to soften the feel of his muscles beneath. "I um," I stammer. "I touch myself, a little."
"Do you put your fingers inside your pussy?"
I laugh nervously. "Oh my God, you really do need a warning label."
"Do you?" he repeats.
"No," I say breathily. "I just... play with my clit a little."
He grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head before pressing my palms back to his chest. Naked. Warm. "Can you make yourself come?"
"Yes." I drag my fingertips down the ridges of his abdomen. "Sometimes."
He walks me backwards and lifts me onto my chest of drawers. "Do you think about me while you touch yourself?"
We are eye to eye now. His lips are so close to mine, I can feel the heat from his breath. "Yes."
"What do you imagine me doing?"
My hands tremble against his perfect abdominals. "You're inside me."
He leans in. Lips meet my ear. "Which part of me?"
