Page 20 of Craved

“Maxim!” I arch up, realizing that he’s unbuttoned my jeans and is kissing his way down the button fly.

“Lift your hips,” he orders, and I do what he says, far too turned on to be even slightly embarrassed when he tugs off my jeans and panties.

“You, too,” I beg, and he stops kissing my lower belly long enough to strip. I watch, feeling a wild kind of hunger as he gets naked. As I see his cock and think about what he’s going to do with it.

I feel like I should be nervous, but I’m not. On the contrary, my entire body is humming, as if this is what I’ve been waiting for my entire life. “Please,” I beg. “I need you. I want to feel you. I want to feel you inside me.”

“Are you sure?

I almost scream. “Do you want me to beg?”

He laughs, then kisses me, long and deep. But when he breaks the kiss, I see both passion and tenderness on his face. “If it hurts…”

“Stop teasing me,” I beg. “Dammit, Maxim, please, please fuck me.”

A fire seems to flash in his eyes, and I want to cry out with relief.

I can’t, though, because his mouth is on mine, taking what he wants just as his hands on my breasts are doing. And when he slips a hand between my legs…

Oh. My. God.

It’s magical. His touch. His fingers. His cock. And then that pleasure that presses up against pain, but never quite reaches it.

“Yes,” I cry.

“Yes,” I moan.

“Please,” I beg.

But it’s only when he whispers, “I love you,” that I truly shatter. And there, in that filthy apartment with rats squeaking along with the rusty bed springs, I have the most magical night of my life.

Chapter Ten

We shared three more apartments, each more fabulous that the one before, the square footage and luxury increasing with our skills. And the truth was, we’d been an amazing team.

By the time I was nineteen, we were living in a two-thousand-square-foot townhouse near the park with a full kitchen, two bathrooms, a huge primary bedroom, and even a guest suite that we used as a rec room for our various consoles, games, and the projection television.

For most of that year, it had felt as if there was nothing we couldn’t accomplish. Every dream was ours for the taking. Dancing. The theater. Long walks in the park. Travel.

And sex.

Lots and lots of sex.

We were living in a paradise of our own making. The Dynamic Duo. The Dream Team. We even bought a small souvenir store, which, despite existing primarily to launder our ill-gotten gains, actually turned a reasonable profit.

Life was glorious, and though we understood that our world could be shattered at any time if we were to get caught, we were both arrogant enough to believe that would never happen. We were young. We were clever. We were rich.

We were untouchable.

With a sigh, I let my gaze skim once more over the building I’d come to see. Maxim and I may have fallen and decayed, but this building has blossomed. Whereas before it looked ready to tumble, now it’s strong and beautiful. The way I’d always believed Maxim and I would be, too.

I’d been so damn naive. Believing that we’d always be a team. Maybe even with kids. We’d have real jobs and be respectable. We’d live like the people we saw in all those old TV shows we used to watch. And whatever problem entered our life would be over and solved by the end of the episode.

And when we were old and gray, we’d still be together and disgustingly happy.

So much for hopes and dreams…

I blink, tears filling my eyes as I take a seat on the stoop near a potted fern.