Page 28 of Wicked Devotion
The moment I stopped answering Max over comms, he barged into the house. Slaughtered his way through the remaining men to reach me like I was a damsel in distress. And distressed I was indeed, but for entirely different reasons.
I yelled at him to fuck off, only for him to push me against the wall with an almost inhuman force. He crowded my spacemore and more with every insult I threw at him, and just when I wanted to tell him he was the reason I had to leave, his lips were on mine.
Sam, Rockwell, and a few guys we had for backup took care of the lower floors and the cellar while Max and I ended up in a tiny storage room. With our limbs tangled and our damn gear in the way of everything, the only thing that kept us from falling was the lack of space to do so.
What made me lose all sense of responsibility in the end was the way Max looked at me. Blood all over him, his pupils blown so wide there was barely a sliver of pale green left. Like I would have been the next one with a knife stuck in his guts if I had tried to stop him.
He begged me to fuck him, immune to logic and reasoning. Whined for my cock, until whines turned into demands. The air in the small room was so thick with want I could no longer think straight, and my senses only came back for a moment when I had my hand wrapped around my cock, bullying the tip inside his tight hole.
Our blood must have consisted of pure adrenaline at this point, and before I had a chance to put my hands on Max, he came, moaning my name, and dragged me over the edge with him.
Time stood still in that godforsaken room, and while I tugged his pants back up so he wouldn’t waste a fucking drop of my cum, a part of me had hoped that more men would barge in and shoot me while I still had my damn cock out.
No one came, though, and my head felt like it was stuck in cotton, until I screamed at Max, asking how goddamn stupid a man could be; if he was trying to get the both of us killed.
And maybe getting killed would have been a blessing because I already knew things between us would never return to normal, if they had ever been normal to begin with.
We still picked up girls at bars. As something resemblingfriends, because we were a good team; on the battlefield, and in bed. And because it was so much easier to ignore the elephant in the room with a third warm body serving as a physical barrier between us.
It was when we started crossing that line a little too often that I knew I was in trouble.
I’m sodeep in my thoughts I almost fail to notice how close Max is. Not that this is something I usually care about since he’s done when Idecidehe’s done.
He tries to ask for permission to come, but all that leaves his mouth is an incoherent mess. Finally, he manages to get out a desperate, “Can I come, please,” and I tighten my grip around our cocks.
His hips stutter while sweet moans fill my ears, and I’d tell him to tone it the fuck down if I wasn’t a bit too far gone myself.
“Keep moving,” I growl, milking the last few drops of cum from his cock until my load joins his on my shirt. So overstimulated a few stray tears run down his cheeks, but it’s not my fault they suit him so well.
Blissed out, I allow myself to feel his lips on mine, but once my head works correctly again, I turn away.
“Satisfied?” I ask, and he slumps down against me, making everything too warm and sticky.
“Mhm.”
“Great, then get the fuck off of me.”
Pouting, he retreats back to his corner of the couch. I pull off my shirt, wiping my hand clean before I throw it into the corner to the rest of our laundry. Ours, because someone acts like this room belongs to him, too.
In Max’s wonky logic, my bigger bed and proper couch seem to signal I want his ass in here all the time. Unfortunately,I slept like shit when he wasn’t around two nights ago. Something I wouldn’t even admit when held at gunpoint.
“How’s your girl? Had a mental breakdown because someone touched her pussy?” I ask, lighting up a cigarette.
“I’d say she handled it pretty well,” he says with a laugh. “Give her some more time. She’ll get used to all of this.”
“No,” I hiss when Max leans closer to steal a drag, turning the other way to exhale away from him. “That’s bad for you.”
“I am an adult, Logan.”
“Doesn’t mean shit.”
He throws his legs over mine, and I take another deep drag to keep myself from lashing out.
“She never had an orgasm,” I state dryly.
“Yeah, told me she thinks there’s something wrong with her.”
I let my head fall back and watch smoke rise up to the ugly popcorn ceiling. “There was definitely something wrong with her when she decided to marry that guy,” I say with a groan. “Thought about having a little chat with him.”
