When every inch of my skin is slick with perspiration, he finally withdraws his fingers.
“Stay,” he says, getting to his feet.
My chest sinks into the mattress, the muscles I’ve kept drawn tight finally relaxing. With my cheek pressed to the sheet, I watch him undress. Fully naked, he walks to the bathroom and returns with lube. He came prepared. He wanted this too.
Going back to his knees, he squirts a generous amount of lube in the crease between my globes and uses the broad head of his cock to spread it around my dark hole.
An uncomfortable sting builds at the base of my spine when he pushes his cock against my dark entrance and applies steady pressure. The ring of muscles finally yields, and cold flames run through my insides as he carefully sinks deeper.
“Harder,” I say, my breathing shallow.
He goes slowly, taking his time to fill me.
Still, I beg. “Please, Maxime. Fuck me already.”
Pulling back, he sinks deeper, over and over, going a little faster and farther with each stroke. The fire builds. The flame leaps. Pain and ecstasy mix until I don’t know who I am or why I’m here. I only know the desperate need for release.
Moving a hand between our bodies, I cup the velvet softness of his balls. He reciprocates by finding my clit. I cry out when he gives the bundle of nerves a wicked pinch. It sets off a slow-building eruption that detonates from my core. My inner muscles tighten. Uttering hot, filthy words, he grabs my hip and holds me in place while punching his hips against my ass. It’s beautiful and dirty. Wrong and right. I arch my shoulders and push back, meeting each of his strokes.
The room is filled with our sounds—cries and groans. The air smells like sex and roses in winter. I let go, collapsing in a boneless heap as my aftershocks ebb, simply letting him use me. He slides his hands beneath my body and the mattress to cup my lace-covered breasts. Another few punishing pumps later, his muscles lock. His groan sounds almost painful as he empties himself inside me.
I try to stay with him, but I’m already floating away, exhaustion claiming my senses. He shoves twice more and then folds his body over mine. His broad chest covers my back. Heat seeps from his body and melts into my tired muscles.
Brushing my hair away, he plants a tender kiss in my neck. “I love you, Zoe.”
I still at the words. I want to turn so I can face him, but he’s still planted deep inside my body, nailing me to the bed with his bigger size and muscular body.
“Shh,” he says. “I know that pretty little mind of yours is kicking back into action. Just relax. There’s no need to analyze it.”
I can’t lie to him. Not about this. “This isn’t love, Maxime.”
“I figured it out on the way home.” He twists a strand of my hair around his finger. “Love is nothing but an obsession. Obsession is love.”
We’ll never have the kind of love I dreamed about, but I’m just so damn tired of hurting with the knowledge. “We have a very different view of love.”
“Then we agree to disagree,” he says, kissing my neck again before sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a hickey.
Chapter 22
Zoe
After a shower and a late lunch at the hotel, Maxime calls a company who specializes in toxic waste cleanup and arranges a thorough cleaning of the apartment. While he’s on the phone, I step out onto the balcony and dial Damian.
“Hey,” he says in a cautious tone. “I thought I’d hear from you sooner.”
“Sorry.” Gripping the rail, I stare down at the harbor in the distance. “It’s been hectic since we got back.”
“Yes?” It sounds as if he’s shuffling papers. “With what?”
My courage fails me. “You’re at work. I caught you at a bad time. I can call back—”
“No. I’m listening.”
“We…” I clear my throat and infuse my tone with as much excitement as I can salvage. “We got married.”
After a short silence, he says, “What?”
“Just the two of us.” I cross my fingers behind my back. “We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“You eloped? Is this what you wanted, Zee?”
“Of course.” I smile so he can hear it in my voice. “I know it was impulsive, but why wait. Right?”
“Right,” he says slowly. “When did this happen?”
“The very day we landed.”
“That’s a bit rash.”
“How long did you wait before you married Lina?”
He sighs. “Is he there?”
“Who? Maxime?”
“Who else?”
“He’s busy on a call.”
“So you can speak freely.”
“Yes, of course.”
Damian sighs again. “Zee, you’ll let me know if something is wrong, right?”
“Yes. Now stop fussing and congratulate me.”
“Congrats. I’m happy for you.” He pauses. “You deserve it.”
“Thank you. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I ask about Josh and how Lina is doing. He fills me in on Lina’s checkups and the prenatal classes they’re attending. His voice is warm with pride when he tells me about the 3D ultrasound and how beautiful their daughter is.
“Have you chosen a name yet?” I ask, my throat thick with emotion.
“No.”
“There’s nothing you like?”
“No name is perfect enough for her.”
“Oh, my God, I sense a very possessive father in the making.”
There’s a short hesitation. “A good one, I hope.”
“A wonderful one.” My smile is very real this time. “You’re nothing like Dad.”
“Sometimes I wonder.”
“You don’t have to wonder. Dad scared me. You don’t.”
Turning, I lean against the rail. My gaze collides with Maxime’s who’s watching me through the sliding door with the intensity of a lion on the
