Page 33 of Surviving the Break
ISHOWEREDand changed into sweats and a t-shirt and sat on my living room floor rubbing Pluto’s belly while Max watched us from the sofa. “Tell me, how’d this handsome fella end up in your life?”
“My granddad gifted him to me before he died. We used to watch the classic Mickey Mouse cartoons together. Neither of us were ever too old for it. One of ourthings. Pluto was my favorite character. A bloodhound.” He huffed at the memory. “He couldn’t speak, and I loved that his thoughts and intentions were conveyed through his actions.”
He came to me on his own today. No forced dates or unavoidable run-ins. Max made the decision to seek me out. That meant something. Tonight, I wouldn’t be afraid to ask for more. “Tell me more.”
His eyes dulled, but he nodded. “When Granddad’s cancer took a turn for the worse, and easing his pain was all that could be done, we brought him home. I stayed by his side. No one could pull me away from him. Mom and Pop spoke with the school principal, and he allowed me to finish up the year remotely. Only a few weeks remained of the school year by then. I had no intention of attending graduation, but in one of his rare lucid moments, Granddad begged me to go. How could I refuse a dying man? I went and hated every minute of it.” His voice broke.
I didn’t dare blink or breathe or stretch my leg when it began to cramp. I’d do nothing to break the spell. I wasn’t sure what had come over Max that day, but the floodgates were open, and I was more than prepared to drown.
“I got home to find him resting on the bed next to him. Just a couple months old at the time. I was so freaking happy. I hadn’t smiled in weeks up to that point. Granddad opened his eyes, and I asked, ‘What should I name him?’” Max choked up, and I fully expected a sudden halt. A coming to his senses moment. My prayers were answered when he pushed on. “He said, ‘Pluto, and he’ll take care of you now.’ He died in his sleep that night.”
“You two were close,” I stated, knowing it was my turn to say something. Terrified he’d remember I was in the room if I did.
“He was myeverything.” He appeared so childlike in that moment, his brown eyes somber. They landed on me. Asking me something.Beggingme for something.Damn it.What did he need from me? I would gladly give it. I just couldn’t make a move and risk being wrong. The price for being wrong would’ve been too high.
He spent the next hour regaling me with stories of the adventures he had with his grandfather, of all that he’d learned from him, painting a clear picture of the type of man he’d lost. One I would’ve liked to have known. I listened and tentatively asked a few questions. Mostly, I listened. His aches were my own. They touched me in places never reached before. My heart. Parts of my mind and some place even deeper. A place carved out just for him.
“Today’s his eightieth birthday.” He tried to remain stoic, but his bottom lip trembled when he said, “I didn’t want to be alone.”
“Max,” I exhaled. I had to touch him. Sitting still could no longer be done. I got up from the floor slowly, as if approaching a rabid animal, never taking my eyes off him. I placed one knee onto the mammoth sofa, then the other, crawling over to the corner he huddled in. My plan was to offer a hug, to envelop him in warmth, to provide some form of comfort. Max had other intentions. He pulled me down to him by my nape, and with only an inch separating our lips, I went stiff as a board. Another tug. I didn’t budge. “Are you going to regret this?” I whispered. I had to know because, for me, there would be no turning back. I would lack the strength needed to rein myself in. I’d wanted this for too long. We locked eyes, and he licked the seam of my lips in answer.
The kiss was tentative, exploratory, Max getting his feet wet, and I let him take the lead. I held my body rigidly above him, my fists planted into the cushions. I didn’t want to scare him off. He brushed his tongue over my gums, and I shivered. He tasted like warm apple pie on a Sunday afternoon. Like home and comfort. “Fuck, Max.” I lay flush against him, wrapping my hands around his hair, humping him while taking control of the kiss.
“God,” he groaned, slipping his hands under my shirt, running his calloused palms up and down my back. Breathing became difficult as the kiss took on a new level of heat. Every attempt he made to stop for air I thwarted.
“No,” I panted into his mouth. He wouldn’t get a chance to come to his senses. We ground our erections together, trying desperately to get some friction. One hand went around his throat. A show of ownership. A symbol of him being chained. He pounded upward, and I rocked us back down. “Mmmmm.” Fuck, I would come like this. His hands slid into the back of my sweats, squeezing my ass and holding me still so he could grind into me. Our cocks lined up perfectly. The tipping point came when Max bit my lower lip hard enough to elicit a moan of pleasure from me.
I broke the kiss to sit back on my haunches. “Take your clothes off,” I growled. “All of them.” I yanked my top over my head and kicked out of my sweats in under five seconds. Once completely naked, I observed him. His hair mussed, lips and cheeks cherry red. He hadn’t moved an inch, but his eyes fucked me. I gripped myself and stroked leisurely.
“So big,” he breathed. “I don’t think you’ll fit.” He trembled. The idea both terrified and excited him.
“You’ll make room for me, won’t you?” I asked roughly.
“I’ll try.” He licked his lips and swallowed, a hint of conflict in his eyes.
“Max?” His name left my lips in the form of a question. I released my cock, and it slapped against my belly, splashing precum across my abs. This was too soon. What was I thinking? I promised I wouldn’t push, but damn it to hell, I was fucking tired of this battle.
“Yes,” he said, interrupting my thoughts. I assumed it was in answer to me calling his name, until he tore his clothes away.
He lay there out of breath, while I soaked up the vision of him. Our cocks were the same size; we were both big boys. We jerked ourselves, getting worked up even further. Trepidation remained in his gaze, but something stronger overrode it. Desire. The possibility that his vulnerability led to his actions hung between us. The potential of him regretting everything as soon as it was over was high. A better man might’ve put an end to things, might’ve waited until both parties were thinking clearly. Instead, I lowered my mouth over his cock to chase the thick, clear rivulet that slipped through his pink crown.
“Fuck. Ash.”
I took him all the way in, hollowing my cheeks and breathing deeply through my nose. Max tasted of salt and a hard day's work. Fuck, that turned me on. I gripped the base of my cock to slow my impending eruption. The filthy sounds he made, the dirty words he spoke as he fucked my throat, damn near did me in. Max was a screamer.
“Suck it harder, Ash,” he commanded. “Yes, right there. Ah...yes...”
I looked up, my rhythm faltering at the sight of him playing with his nipples. I stretched my legs out behind me, released his cock with a pop, slipped my palms under his bottom, and face-planted between the valley of his ass. I spread him wide and sucked on his pucker like it was the sweetest candy, my head swimming from the sugar rush. He yelled my name, throwing his arms out to grip the throw pillows. I humped the sofa harshly, trying to burrow a hole into it, and Max’s cock bobbed like a demon possessed. Fuck, his ass tasted delicious. I backed off long enough to get my finger wet before inserting it along with my tongue.
“Ash—” He pumped his hips. “Shit. Just fuck me, now.Please.”
He bore down on my face, and I snarled between his cheeks when my hand reached between the cushions and came up empty. Getting to my knees, I climbed him, his body as big and brutal as mine. I slammed our lips together, fucking his mouth like I wanted to be fucking his pretty pink hole. We humped aggressively. The couch scraped against the wooden floor from our efforts.
Sweat covered our skin, and I ran my tongue from his chin to temple to take some of it in. Max spit in his palm, then reached between us, doing his best to secure us both in his grip. I pumped through his fingers, feeling the underside of my dick run along his. Our faces only inches apart, and we stared at each other, mouths wide open, and our punched breaths filled the silence. His pupils were blown, and I hardened further. “Mine,” I declared.
I sank my teeth into the exposed flesh of his neck. Marking him. Owning him. If it was against his will, so be it. Max shuddered through his release. Whether my claim or my bite sent him coasting over the edge, I couldn’t say, but his flight was a thing of beauty.
A string of saliva followed me when I pulled away from his throat. I held his half-lidded gaze as I tugged myself to climax. Directing my spill into his trimmed pubic hair, inside his navel, and lastly, all over his heart.
