Page 117 of Moonlit Nights & Northern Lights
This wasn’t just sex; this was Maxwell rewriting every definition I’d ever had of pleasure, of connection. And I already knew just once wasn’t going to be enough.
“Tell me what you like,” I said to him, running a hand over his stubble. “I can’t read your mind. It’s not fair.”
Maxwell rubbed his chin against my hand. “What? This. You. Fucking hell—” His breath came in hot pants against my neck, my name falling from his lips like a prayer, again and again—“Rory, Rory, Rory”—as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of it on his tongue.
Then he nuzzled into my neck for a moment, slowing down slightly, and rasped into my ear, “You feel even better than I imagined, baby.”
And suddenly I was freefalling, tumbling through space without gravity, without boundaries. Thatsingle word—“baby”—wrapped around me like the warmest blanket on the coldest night, promising shelter and belonging. Of never letting go. It melted through my every thought until I was nothing but raw nerve endings and naked emotion.
I collapsed against him, utterly boneless, overwhelmed in a way I couldn’t begin to explain. Maxwell caught me with strong arms, his hands repositioning my pliant body without ever breaking our connection. He continued to thrust upward, using my slack form for his pleasure in a way that somehow felt like worship.
“I’m so close,” he growled, one hand snaking between us to grasp my cock. His teeth found my earlobe, sucking the sensitive flesh before whispering against the damp skin, “I think Ilike, like you very much, Rory Thorne.”
His words sank into me like stones through still water, creating ripples that spread to every corner of my being. They reached deeper than conscious thought, touching the part of me that was all instinct and wild recognition. The part of me that wanted to bare my throat to him, then claim him back.
Then the world split open.
That now familiar electric current amplified into something that felt like magic, actual fucking magic. It forked through my ribs like captured lightning, radiating outward to every extremity until my fingertips tingled with it. My vision blurred, overtaken by a blue-white flash that seemed to connect our bodies in ways beyond the physical.
That raindrop scent exploded between us, no longer just a subtle note but a torrential downpour filling the room. It was everywhere—in my lungs, on my skin, behind my eyelids—as if the storm that had been building between us had finally broken. The scent mingled with my pleasure, intensifying it, transforming it into something transcendent.
Scorching pleasure fizzed through every pore, consuming everything in its path until I was nothing but flame. “Teddy!” I cried out as I came again, convulsing around him as pulse after pulse of ecstasy tore through me.
Gasping repeatedly, my body jerked with aftershocks—both from my orgasm and the electric phenomenon. Through the haze, I finally caught the look on Maxwell’s face—a wonderful softness painting itself across his features. Teddy’s features.
“Don’t stop,” I begged, needing him to keep moving through these overwhelming pulses that seemed to bind us together. “Please don’t stop.”
He didn’t. He held me tight against him, his hips maintaining their rhythm as he chased his own release, fucking me through the zapping aftershocks that made my entire body feel like a live wire. Each thrust seemed to reactivate the current, sending fresh, impossible waves coursing through me.
Hot stickiness glued us together. I pushed just slightly so Maxwell moved back, my eyes fixated on the pearly streaks across his skin. The primal part of my brain went wild as I ran my fingers through the mess, smearing it over his chest in possessive circles.
Mine, now. Mine, mine, mine!My brain screamed with an undertone that bordered on violent, and the primitive part of me wanted to sprout claws and dig into his chest, to mix my essence with his blood.
Instead, I lifted my fingers to Maxwell’s lips. He greedily reached for them, his tongue darting out to taste me. He lapped at my fingers, his eyes never leaving mine as he cleaned them with hot, wet sucks.
Then I felt him coming inside me, his face contorting in a blissful silent scream as the first wave hit him. His cock throbbed and surged, each pulse sending fresh heat deep inside me as he shuddered beneath me. The intensity seemed to go on forever, his body trembling with the force of his release as he finally filled me completely. My hands trailed slowly down the side of his sweat-slicked back. I sighed blissfully, collapsing atop him as he softened, gluing myself to his chest, burying my face.
I was too overwhelmed to look him in the eye—that had been so intense, far more than I’d bargained for.
“Fucking hell—” Maxwell cut himself off, breathless. “That goddamn electric shock thing! Are you okay?” His hands kneaded into my thighs as if they might have seized up and needed unknotting.
That’s when I felt it—a thread between us. A very real, tangible thing. Just like what I had with Kit, but also… nothing like what I had with Kit.
It stretched from somewhere deep in my chest to his, a silvery-blue connection pulsing with energy that I couldn’t see with my eyes but could sense with something far more primal. The bond hummed like a plucked guitar string, vibrating with every beat of his heart.
And with each vibration came raindrops on a hot summer’s day—no longer just emanating from him but flowing through the connection between us. It wasn’t just a smell anymore; it was the essence of our bond made tangible, as if the universe had distilled our connection. I breathed it in, and it felt like I was breathing him in, like our scents had merged into something brand new.
With Kit, the bond was a comfort, a background presence—like knowing there was always someone in the next room. But this… this was immediate and demanding. It took up space, made itself known. I could feel Maxwell’s emotions flowing across it—his confusion, his concern, and beneath it all, a satisfaction so deep it was almost painful to experience.
Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.
What had I done?
I quickly blocked the specifics from my thoughts, but ice-cold anxiety swirled in my gut like a gathering storm.
“Rory? What’s wrong?” Maxwell asked, trying to pry me from his chest.
I tried not to groan. It was so unfair that I never had any idea which of my thoughts he’d read.
