Page 123 of Speak

It’s the words. Definitely the words.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders to which he responds by grabbing my throat lightly and telling me to open my mouth and stick out my tongue.

I do.

He kisses me by licking my tongue with his, groaning at my taste and I moan with his. Sucking my bottom lip into his mouth and then tangling his tongue with mine again, devouring. His hands go to my inner thighs and he squeezes, his fingers traveling up until both of his thumbs rub along the silk triangle that covers my sex.

God, I can feel my panties sticking to me with how slick I’ve gotten with just one kiss.

He pulls away, his nose still against mine, his thumb slipping under the silky material, finding me wet and wanting him. “Did someone cum deep in my slutty girl or are you wet for just me?”

I moan when he pushes his thumb into me only to rub my arousal in circles on my clit. I keep my eyes on his and nod. It’suseless to lie. Except Jonas and I showered one last time in my dorm before coming home and I am so very, very wet for him.

He reaches between us and I hear him unzipping his trousers, tugging his dick out and rubs the tip of his cock all over my pussy, notching at my entrance. “Do you know why a penis has a mushroom-like tip?”

I shake my head.

“A university in Michigan did a study and theorized it was a way the Neanderthals were able to scoop out another's semen out, to have a higher chance of impregnating their mate.” He growls and in one full shove he thrusts his entire cock into me.

I moan, clutching him closer, spreading my thighs wider to take him deeper. I decide, in this moment, I absolutely fuckingloveevolutionary science. Or is it history?

“Let’s see, shall we?” He pulls out until only the crown of him is inside. We look down and see a stripe of my essence on him but the rest of me coats him. Whether it’s me or remnants of Jonas, I’m not sure and he isn’t either because he groans and pushes into me again.

I moan and he takes my mouth with his again, over and over again he gives me as much pleasure as he takes, stretching me with the fattest part of him. It hurts and it feels amazing and I need more.

Wrapping my legs around his torso, I hook them at my ankles. In the blink of an eye his hands are clawing at my shirt, pulling it up and over my head and his tongue dives to my nipples.

God, yes!

He sucks as though I’m feeding him, flicking his tongue and biting one, switching from one to the other. One hand pinches whichever one isn’t in his mouth. He’s claiming me, leaving physical marks on my body along with invisible ones in my heart, in my mind, in the very thing that makes meme. His words are nothing but worship. My back arches as my pussy begins to clamp down around him.

“That’s my good girl. I love feeling the way your gorgeous cunt throbs around me. Come for your professor, Siren. Come for your professor so I can fill your pussy.”

I moan and he groans, filling the bubble we’re in with animalistic noises and I fall back to earth, the bubble popping whenhe places a kiss that’s as soft as his urgency was. I tip my forehead against his and smile.

“Christ, that was-”

“Hot.” Damon finishes for Jonas, reminding me we aren’t alone. I blush as the alarm on the oven beeps, telling us dinner is ready.

Maverick smirks but doesn’t withdraw from me. Instead he hooks his arms under my thighs. “Let’s go clean you up, Angel. Then we’ll have dinner.”

We’re in his room moments later after he took the stairs with me in his arms as though I weighed nothing, only withdrawing from me once we’re in his bathroom. He undresses me only after the shower turns on and steam is rising, slowly and deliberately taking off each article of clothing, looking at every single one of my flaws.

My scars. Stab wound. Tattoo. Tracing his fingers over each one, smiling at the goosebumps he leaves on my skin.

“Perfect,” he whispers… and Ifeelit. That’s the thing about Maverick, even when he’s crass and he hurts me, he’shonest. It’s a fucked-up thing to love a man that can call you out on every single one of your insecurities even if it hurts you and still make you feel beautiful amidst the ugly.

I gnaw on my tongue.

They all do this to me. Jonas with his need for me, telling me that I’m sick in the head but then making me feel like it’d alright to be crazy because he is, too. Damon, making me feel normal with all of my… issues, but he makes me feel invincible. And Maverick… he’s never made me feel fragile. Not once. He uses words like daggers because he knows my skin is thicker than I let on.

So how do I trust him? How do I let him in completely? Will the former FBI agent that hunted serial killers still think I’m beautiful when he finds out… if he finds out? Will he turn me in? Us? Would he understand?

When it’s his turn, he also undresses himself slowly. I realize it’s the first time I’m seeing him naked. The night of the fire we were in the dark. In the forest he took me from behind. Neither of us ever fully undressed in his office.

There are a lot of tattoos going from his wrists up to his chest, stopping just at his neck. Some look like runes, vines; on his rightpec is Icarus falling from the sky, feathers everywhere. There’s other things but barely any skin is left untouched except his left pec as though he’s waiting on something to put over his heart. There are words in Latin scribbled across him I can’t wait to focus on to translate.

The one I love the most is the Invictus poem written on his ribs.

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