Kristen Ashley - The Gamble

He kissed me again, deep, hard, beautiful then stopped and ordered, “You’re gonna suck me first though, I want your mouth on me again.”

“Okay,” I repeated in a whisper.

“Your mouth,” Max growled, “Christ, nearly as sweet as your pussy.”

I shifted with agitation under him. He was going to make me climax just by talking to me.

“This too,” he said but said no more.

“Sorry?” I tried to concentrate but it was difficult.

“This,” his body pressed into mine, his hard crotch rubbed against my thigh, his finger slid inside and then started moving in and out and his tongue swept my bottom lip, a combination that was mind-scrambling. “This too is why I’m so fuckin’ sure about us.”

My hand left his back and went to his face. “Max –”

Max cut me off, not that I knew what I was going to say. “Take your clothes off, baby, want you naked while you work me.”

“Okay,” I breathed.

Then I took my clothes off while Max did the same.

Then I curled between his legs and sucked his cock until he yanked me over him. Then I rode it, fucking him while his eyes never left me, mine never left him and his hands moved all over me. I rode him until I made myself come and kept going until he did too.

Max woke me with one hand between my legs, the other at my breast and his mouth at my neck.

My neck arched upon waking then I whispered, “Darling.”

His hands went away, he turned me and he kissed me. Then he did other stuff to me. Then he took me, him on top, my knees bent, thighs pressed to his sides.

When I was almost there, teetering close to the edge, he pulled out, flipped me to my stomach, hauled my hips up and rammed into me, hard and rough, again and again and again.

Delicious.

“Touch yourself, baby,” he growled his order from behind me and, my face in the pillow, my fingers clenching it at the sides of my head, I did as I was told.

For about thirty seconds. Then I came, long and luxurious, my moans muffled by the pillow.

After I did, my hand slid away but Max’s arm curled around my ribcage and he lifted my torso as he kept thrusting into me, his finger moving between my legs, rolling on my sweet spot.

I pressed back into his body, my hand curling around his wrist and I moaned, “Max, I can’t… too much.”

He didn’t listen, his finger kept rolling, his cock kept thrusting, his hoarse, gravelly voice demanding, “Again, Duchess.”

“I can’t.”

“I want it again.”

“Max,” I whispered.

His other hand cupped my breast, his finger and thumb rolling on my nipple too and his touch shot through me like a dart.

I was right, it was too much. I was going to come apart.

“Give it to me,” he growled. “Hurry, baby, I’m close.”

My body jolted as it hit me, longer, past luxurious to sumptuous. So beautiful, I cried out, my other hand moving to cover Max’s on my breast, fingers curling tight.

“Christ,” Max grunted, “so fuckin’ sweet.” Then he drove deep with velvet brutality, once, twice, three times, groaning as he came through his thrusts.

He stopped then bent at the waist, pushing my torso down on the bed, he let me go and I collapsed back into the pillows. Max stayed where he was, his fingers moving on my behind, the small of my back, as his shaft gently glided in and out of me.

I let him, loving every plunge, his light, intimate touch, thinking this didn’t exactly feel like settling, this felt like having it all.

He slid out and dropped to my side then he pulled the covers over our bodies and gathered me into his arms. I pressed my face to his throat as I wrapped an arm around him, flattening my other hand against his chest.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mm hmm,” I answered, giving a little nod of my head.

His hand slid up my back and his voice sounded like he was smiling when he made a query to which he already knew the response. “Was it too much?”

“Mm mm,” I replied, giving a little shake of my head.

His body shook too, with laughter. I cuddled closer.

Then he asked, “How’d you do it?”

I tilted my head back to look at him. “Do what?”

“Go without for months?”

My head pressed into the pillow as it tipped to the side. “Sorry?”

“You’re a hot little piece, Duchess, can’t imagine a woman like you could stand being without for very long.”

I shoved my face back into his throat and didn’t answer.

“Nina?” he called.

“Did you just call me a hot little piece?” I asked his throat.

I knew he was smiling again when he replied, “Yeah,” one of his hands drifted over my bottom as his other hand slid into my hair, “‘cause you are.”

“Mm,” I mumbled instead of getting angry, deciding in my current state to take that as a Max-style compliment.

“I see Nina Zombie beats out Pissed Off Nina,” he observed.

Again, I decided not to reply.

Max rolled me to my back by rolling into me and got up on an elbow, his other arm resting across my belly, the front of his body resting along the side of mine.

“So?” he prompted.

“So, what?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I looked at his collarbone and shrugged.

“Musta been hard,” he noted.

My eyes went to his and even though I would rather have luxuriated in the post-glow of a double orgasm and a morning without one of my relatives at the door, I got serious and looked in his eyes.

“You know if I had a choice, go back to Brent, who was the one who beat me, or go back to the time before and after Charlie died, finding myself so alone, so lost, so needy that I allowed myself to get tied to Niles, I would pick Brent.”

His hand left my belly to cup my jaw and his face was soft when he whispered, “Baby.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“I know, that’s ‘cause it’s fresh. Coupla weeks, you’ll feel differently.”

I sighed and closed my eyes, saying, “I don’t know.”

I opened my eyes when I felt his mouth touch mine.

“I do,” he said when he lifted his head.

“Yes?”

“You gettin’ lost, gettin’ tied to that asshole, led you to me,” he grinned and his grin was arrogant. “So, yeah, coupla weeks, you’ll feel differently.”

My eyes narrowed on his grin before they went back to his. “You know, you’re not only annoying and domineering, you’re also arrogant.”

His mouth came back to mine and I saw his eyes were still smiling when he informed me, “Yeah, and you love it.”

“I forgot, you’re also impossible.”

His eyes started dancing a split second before he kissed me, not a touch of the lips, but deep and long and he was mostly on top of me when he was done with my mouth. My arms were also around him with one hand wrapped around the back of his neck and his kiss was so good, the weight of him felt so nice, I forgot to be peeved.

“This is nice,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back and dipped his head, running his nose along my jaw.

I didn’t tell him but Max doing that made it even nicer.

“Max?” I called and his head came up.

“Right here, baby.”

“Why Shauna?”

The minute I said the words, I wished I could shove them back in my mouth. I didn’t even know why I said them. They just came out. We’d been “sparring”, as Max called it, we were good at that, it had become us and, after, he was being so sweet, I felt safe asking.

I knew as the darkness swept his face, I shouldn’t have asked.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I muttered, fear rippling through my belly because I knew I’d done something wrong and I didn’t want him to go back to that other Max of yesterday afternoon. I decided to change the subject and tried to slide out from under him, offering, “I’ll go make coffee.”

His weight didn’t shift, in fact he gave me more of it, holding me in place and my eyes went to his.

“Why shouldn’t you ask?” he enquired.

“You obviously don’t want to talk about it,” I pointed out carefully.

“Maybe not, that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask.”

“Well –”

“You’re naked in my bed, babe, you’re cookin’ in my kitchen, you’re movin’ to town, buyin’ a lawyer desk, all of that to take a gamble on me. Don’t you think you got a right to know?”

I did think I had a right to know, about a lot of things, about everything.

I didn’t tell him this. I just held onto my courage and his gaze.

Max got up on a forearm but didn’t shift the rest of his weight as his eyes went to my temple and the fingers of his other hand went there too, sifting into my hair. He slid them down, through the tendrils and then he started twirling a lock around his finger. I felt his touch and it felt lovely but I also watched his features, emotions drifting over them openly, too fast to read but most of them were not good. Then his eyes left the lock of hair even though his finger kept twisting it and they came to me.

“Long time ago, fifth, sixth grade, we had a posse. Bitsy, Brody, Shauna, Kami, Harry and me.”

“Harry?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Kami?”

“Yeah, kind of, mostly she tagged along, didn’t have many of her own friends.”

I didn’t find this surprising if what Max said about Kami being a bitch since forever was true.

“Not Curtis?” I queried.

“No.”

And not Anna? I thought but didn’t speak the question aloud.

“We were tight,” he continued, “did everything together for years, into high school. Stayed tight, school to school, even though Bitsy and Shauna were a year younger, Kami, two.”