Page 77 of Obliterated
“Is that—?” I start, because I don’t want to say the thing out loud.
He answers with a curt nod, jaw ticking. “It’s… I’ll explain. You can fix it later, Kee. Promise.” His hands cup my face, fingers threading up into my wet curls. “I just need you right now. All of you. I need it so fucking bad.” His voice cracks on the last word, raw and urgent.
I swallow, nodding because what else do you do when your man asks for you, wants you? I seal it with a kiss, a hard press that urges his mouth open, my tongue slipping in, pulling a heady groan from him.
The rest of our clothes go after that promise. When we’re naked, his mood darkens when his hands roam over my shoulders, ribs, my stomach, fingers tracing the red lines the rain left on my skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. But when they drop lower and land on my erection, I swear those starry eyes fuckingblaze. His fingertips grazing the soft skin almost in referent, encircling me, pushing the demons away.
A full-body shiver runs through me when he pumps me one, two times, before sliding that hand up as he steps closer. He grabs my throat, pressing me back against the cold tile, his delicious body flush against mine, hard cock straining against mine. The tile is hard and unforgiving under my spine, and the pulse in my neck stutters under his grip.
“Mmm-Max.” His name comes out as a moan as I sag against the wall, shivering like a fucking lunatic when he delves his tongue so deep in my mouth I swear he’s fucking eating me alive.
I welcome the pressure from his hand, his mouth, his body like an anchor. My muscles uncoil, tension sliding out of my shoulders, my thoughts going deliciously hazy, numb.
He’s the best fucking drug. Always is the best fucking drug.
Then the bastard turns on the damn shower.
I gasp as the cold water hits us, but before I can do anything, he’s on me, kissing deep, claiming me in a way that makes me shiver from scalp to soles.
When our dicks meet in that wet slide, he groans into my mouth, and I answer with a sound that comes from somewhere under my ribs. My hands find his perfect, muscled ass and squeeze hard, nails dragging, and he steadies me with a rough, needy laugh.
Gods, how I want this, him, how I want everything he’s willing to give. If I can cull some of his monsters by being his in every damn way, that’s only a bonus.
Then his hands move, but not like I expect. He’s cleaning me, not taking me, owning me like I want him to, like Ineedhim to. No… he’s washing the red from my skin, scrubbing at the streaks until the lines smear and run away. His thumbs trace the worst spots like erasers, hands steady and fierce.
“I hate it on you,” he mutters, voice tight. “It makes it roar harder. I need itoff.”
I hang on his shoulders, practically grinding into him because I can’t think of anything else to do while the rot-streaked water, the blood, the traces of the red rain sluice down the drain. He scrubs us both until the water at our feet runs clear, and only then kills the shower, me still rubbing myself all over him.
“Kee—” he breathes, but I can’t stop, can’t think. Having this naked fucking god against me is too much. He’s a perfect specimen. Scarred, yes, but he’s a damn mountain of muscle, and I just want to lick every fucking one of them.
Speaking of which…
I drop to my knees, nearly sliding on the slick tile, and he swears, low. As I look up and give him a filthy grin, he leans his forearm against the tiles, his other hand threading into my curls,fingers clenching hard when I finally—fucking finally—grab that thick as fuck cock.
I swear I make a sound that’s half moan, half prayer when it twitches in my hand. I tear my gaze away from his ravenous expression and surge forward.
I don’t want to wait another fucking second.
I’m greedy—too greedy—as I swallow him whole, taking what I need without apology. My free hand anchors at his perfect ass, fingers digging in, steadying myself against the heat, the lust, the drug that is him.
And I love it. The taste of him, the feel of him,allof him.
Moaning around him, I drag my head back, tongue twirling at the top, and do it all over again. I work him with my mouth and hands, shivering every time he grunts and flexes, hips moving to whatever rhythm I set.
The low growls and grunts that rumble through him make my head spin. When I break away to trail my lips along that vein on the underside, to taste and tease and extract more of those delicious sounds, he suddenly snaps me up into his arms.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing. One arm is under my ass, the other around my back. My arms loop around his neck, legs locked around his waist as he carries me to the bed, licking in his mouth again almost desperately. We’re a wet mess when we tumble onto his mountain of blankets, the remnants of the shower slick between us, his mouth and hands every fucking where.
He licks my abs, my chest, swirls that evil tongue around my nipple, dragging it further up and up while kneading my ass.
“Oh shit, Max. I wantmore,”I grunt up at the ceiling, clinging on for dear life, loving every second of this,welcomingit. The weight, the way he pushes me into the mattress in that brutal, possessive way of his. I fucking live for it. It grounds me in ways I can’t pull apart right now.
“Kee,” he breathes against my neck, the sound raw and ragged, full of something like apology and hunger all at once. He finds the tendon there and bites—sharp, claiming, marking me.
His,my heart screams.I’m his forever. For however long I have left.
“Hmmm-Max,” I moan again, arching my neck, knees clamping around his hips, my nails raking down his back until he answers with a low, animal noise that makes the air snap. “Oh, my fucking gods.”
