Page 45 of Taboo
Then Max stands. His hand finds mine. His touch sparks through me like electricity. I meet his eyes, and the hunger there mirrors my own, a silent promise that makes my skin flush. Hisfingers lace with mine, and silently, he leads me out, the door clicking shut behind us. We pause in the hallway, the sconces casting faint pools of light.
The air is thick with anticipation.
“Feel like a swim?” he asks, his voice a low growl, his thumb brushing my knuckles, sending a shiver up my spine. "The pool's heated.” His eyes are dark, gleaming with intent, and my breath catches, the idea of the pool—warm water, moonlight, just us—ignites a reckless thrill.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice husky, a smile tugging at my lips. “Let’s do it.”
His grin is boyish, wicked, as he pulls me toward the back of the house, through the glass doors that open to the backyard. The night air is crisp, scented with chlorine and blooming jasmine. The patio is quiet, the only sound is the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of the city, a world away. And the pool is a large shimmering rectangle under the moon, its surface rippling softly.
Max strips off his T-shirt, the fabric sliding over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the tattoo on his arm—a dark, intricate swirl. Last night I traced it with my tongue. The memory makes my mouth go dry. He kicks off his jeans and stands in black boxer briefs, his body a sculpture of muscle and need.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice rough, his eyes locked on me, a challenge that makes my skin prickle.
I hesitate, my fingers trembling at the hem of my dress, but his gaze—hot, unyielding—pulls me forward. I lift the material over my head and discard it on the ground. His eyes widen at the sight of the decadent lingerie I’d donned earlier.
His eyes rove possessively over every inch of me, and I feel it like a touch, my nipples hardening, my core throbbing under his unrelenting stare.
“Fuck, Amelia,” he murmurs, stepping closer.
His hands reach for me, but with a soft laugh, I slip past him and dive into the pool. The water welcomes me like a hug, warm and silken, enveloping my body. Like a slippery seal, I glide under the surface. When I break through, I’m gasping, the night air cold against my wet skin, and Max is there, diving in after me, his body cutting through the water with a grace that steals my breath.
He surfaces close, water streaming down his face, his dark hair slicked back, eyes burning into mine. “You’re killing me,” he says, voice low, a half-laugh laced with hunger.
Water ripples around us in soft waves as he pulls me to him, hands on my hips, fingers digging in, and I wrap my legs around his waist, the water making me buoyant. His lips find mine in a kiss that’s all heat. The kiss is deep and demanding, his tongue tasting of the pizza we shared, of him, of us. I moan with need as my hands slide up his chest, feeling the hard beat of his heart under my palms.
His cock presses hard against me through his briefs, right where I ache, wet beyond the pool’s warm grip. I gasp, the friction a spark that sets me ablaze. He groans, a raw sound. His hands slide to my ass, fingers digging in, pulling me close. Water sloshes, a quiet pulse matching our breaths. He tugs at my lingerie, the lace bra and panties slip free, and float off in the warm current. I’m bare now, water teasing my core. His fingers find my sex and stroke slowly. A moan escapes, desperate, unstoppable.
“You’re so damn wet,” he murmurs, lips on my neck, sucking gently.
His stubble scrapes my skin, rough, exquisite, and God, it feels so good. I shudder, lost in him, in love so fierce it feels like it’s a wound. My heart pounds, heavy with need, with ache. His fingers slide inside, one, then two, stretching me, and thepleasure is sharp, searing, like a spark to kindling. My moans grow louder, urgent, tearing from my throat. I bite my lip, thinking of Jason asleep upstairs, trying to stay silent, but it’s near impossible when Max is breaking me open… His touch is like a blaze that owns me.
“Quiet, baby,” he growls, his lips grazing my ear, voice thick and hot.
And then he tugs his briefs down, the fabric sliding over his hips, revealing the hard lines of his body. His cock emerges, pale in the water, but thick, rigid, and pulsing with need. A sight that steals my breath. I reach for him, my hand trembling, fingers wrapping around his length. He’s velvet-smooth, alive under my touch. I stroke him, savoring the way he throbs in my palm. He groans deeply. His head tips back, and his eyes flutter shut, mouth open, and I’m enthralled by the power I have over him, the desire that burns between us, raw and reckless.
I guide him to me, my legs tightening around his waist, desperate, needing him closer. Water lifts us, makes me weightless, but his presence grounds me, heavy, real. He enters me, slow, oh, so slow. His cock slides deep, filling me with a stretch that burns. So sweet, so perfect, a sensation I’ve craved for years. I gasp helplessly.
“Fuck, Amelia,” he rasps, voice broken, eyes opening to meet mine, dark with love, with hunger. The intensity in his gaze rips me open, lays me bare, and I’m drowning in him, in us.
He moves then, each thrust deep, sparking pleasure that sets my nerves ablaze. Water slaps around us in a soft, secret rhythm. I cling to him, fingers clawing his skin, marking him as mine, even if only for now. His hands grip my hips, firm, pulling me into each thrust, his strength unyielding, possessive.
For one bizarre second, Sara’s face flashes into my head—she is smiling at me trustingly—a sharp stab of guilt hurts me in the guts, but Max’s eyes hold me, fierce, like I’m his entire world.And her image disintegrates. Sorry, Sara. But this moment is beyond me. I’ve watched her and I know what she feels for Max is not the same. She doesn’t know what it is like to be so in love that it is a wound, so deep it never heals. Every day it tears, bleeds, and hurts. This is the kind of love I’ve carried through the years, but just for now, it doesn’t hurt. Just for this little while, it burns brightly like the most beautiful star in the sky.
And I’m going to let it shine even if it means I’m damned to hell.
“Oh God,” I gasp, a desperate plea.
He thrusts harder, deeper, his rhythm relentless, fingers finding my clit, stroking fast, matching his pace. Pleasure coils, tight, blazing, my body trembles, every nerve alive with him. My breaths come shallow, ragged, and my heart beats with love.
The orgasm hits, a searing wave, shattering me.
My mouth is buried in his neck, teeth biting his skin to silence a scream. The pleasure is so intense it’s almost painful.
He follows, groaning deep, his cock pulsing, his cream flooding me, warm, binding us in this wild, stolen moment, a love so raw it breaks my heart.
We hold each other, panting, water cooling around us, moonlight silvering his face. His eyes soften, brimming with love, a tenderness that cracks me open.
“I love you,” he whispers, his forehead pressed to mine, voice raw, trembling with emotion.
