Page 165 of Catch the Sun

I whisper his name on the exhale, my heart bursting from the weight of it all. “Max.”

He doesn’t hesitate.

Our mouths crash together on our next breath.

Rain, tears, pain, love.

I fist his T-shirt with both hands as his arms wrap around me and yank me flush against his chest. His tongue pushes inside and I open willingly, longingly. We moan in tandem as I arch back, pulling him closer, his hands keeping me from tipping over.

No more words. No more talking, rehashing, or wallowing.

Only this.

Max and Ella.

Still holding me with one arm, he drags a hand to the side of my face and cups my cheek hard, his thumb tugging my jaw. I open wider. I kiss him harder. Everything blurs: the past, the present, the future. Rainwater sluices us as his tongue lashes mine and my hands lower to his hips.

He walks me backward. Our feet slide in wet leaves, puddles splashing with each clumsy step. We reach the clearing opening and he spins me around before collapsing down on the wooden bench and yanking me forward. Slick fingers dip underneath the hem of my halter top and drag it up my body, pulling it over my head. I gasp when the breeze kisses my skin. My wet hair slaps across my shoulders, my bare breasts spilling free and glimmering with rainfall. Max’s breath hitches on a deep groan as he buries his face between them, his tongue flicking out, and then he moves to take a nipple in his mouth, sucking roughly.

My legs shake underneath me as I watch him move, an animalistic growl teasing his throat. I fist his hair and pull, desire pounding between my legs.

I climb onto his lap, my knees caging him in as he grabs my ass and thrusts his hips upward. His hard length stabs me through his running shorts and I don’t think before sliding my shaky fingers under the waistband and tuggingat his shorts.

Max lifts up briefly. The shorts slide down his thighs.

Frantic with bottled-up pain and lust, I wiggle my way out of my leggings, pulling one leg free. I mount him again, the leggings hanging off one calf as I reach down to fist his erection while my arm curls around his neck for balance and I grab a fistful of his hair.

Max cranes his neck back as my hand squeezes and strokes him. “Fuuuck,” he grits out, face dropping to my breasts again, a nipple catching between his teeth.

I whimper, fiery tingles racing south. My knees shake as I try to stay steady, lifting up slightly and lining him up against me.

Tension races between us. An achy, breathless beat.

My eyes fall to his. They’re hooded, half-lidded, as they lazily float up to meet mine.

I lower myself down onto him.

I feel him breach me, fill every inch of me, and when he’s halfway inside, I wrap both arms around his shoulders and drop down all the way.

We both let out a loud, tapered moan, putting the sky’s thunder to shame.

My hands clasp at the nape of his neck, nails gouging the skin. “Max,” I mewl, a high-pitched, raspy slew of syllables. He’s fully inside me, to the hilt. We are joined, connected, completely entwined. My barrier was broken, so there’s no physical pain, yet tears rush to my eyes as the moment hugs me with desperate, shaky arms and squeezes tight.

I squeeze him in return, holding his face to my chest as I lift up then lower my hips.

I do it again and again.

He growls, groans, panting through the rhythm.

“Ella.” He hisses my name, his arms twined around my body, one hand cupping the back of my head, fingers sifting through my hair. His other arm slides up and down my back, feeling my movements. Guiding them.

I need to feel more of him, so I grab at his T-shirt and try to yank it off him. Max holds me up with one arm while the other reaches behind his back, snatches the shirt by the collar, and hauls it over his head.

Skin to skin.

Chest to chest.

Heart to heart.

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