My eyes wouldn’t stay open, no matter how much I willed them to. Letting my lashes lower, knowing there was nowhere in the world safer than right there with Max, I didn’t open them again until much, much later.
When reality finally hit me, it was to find myself locked up in the safety of Max’s strong arms. His naked body was pressed up against mine, his chest rising and falling as he slept deeply. Yet again, I craved to hear him. The sound of his breathing, to know if he snored, the octaves of his voice when he was happy, mad, sad—and most of all, when he was deep inside me.
I shifted, trying my best not to wake him, but as soon as I moved, he tightened his arms around me and his eyes snapped open. That quickly, he was wide awake. His lips touched my brow before he pushed up onto one elbow so he could lean over me. “How are you feeling?” he signed, his eyes full of concern.
Heat filled my cheeks because I knew he wasn’t asking if I was hungry. “I’m okay,” I assured him, but my answer didn’t seem to ease the frown pulling his brows together. Maybe it was the way I winced when I shifted, the muscles deep in my core tender and a little sore. But the discomfort wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. My pain tolerance was higher than most people’s, something I’d learned after the explosion that had robbed me of my parents and my ability to hear. “Really.”
“I’m sorry.” His lips formed the words as he closed his eyes. Inhaling deeply, he snapped them open and he signed, “I hate that I hurt you so badly.”
I sat up, a frown of my own lifting my brows. “You didn’t hurt me,” I tried to tell him, but his gaze dropped to my bare thighs, his jaw clenching so hard, a muscle began to tick there.
Following his gaze, I saw there was a smear of blood on the inside of my thigh, my bare core covered in the same pinkish color. I still had a few more days before my period, so I figured it was from the loss of my virginity.
“Max.” I spoke his name, pulling his eyes up to my face—and more importantly, my hands, so I could communicate with him. “I promise, you didn’t hurt me. Everything we did…it was amazing. Perfect.”
“Treasure,” he started, but I pushed him onto his back and straddled his hips. Lowering my head, I pressed my lips to his, ready to prove to him just how unhurt I really was and hopefully make him forget about the little bit of blood.
He caught my hips before I could rub my center over his steel-hard cock. As if it took no effort at all, he jumped out of bed with me still in his arms and walked out of the bedroom. But not before I saw the red stain on the sheets.
Dang, did all girls bleed that much after their first time?
Then again, Max wasn’t exactly small. Not anywhere, and especially not in the cock department. I didn’t imagine the girls I’d watched at school talking about having sex had their very first time with the Adonis beast I had.
Using his foot to push open the bathroom door, he crossed to the shower and switched it on.
“We aren’t doing that again for a few days,” he signed once the water was running and he’d placed me on my feet beside the shower stall door. “Not until I’m sure you have healed.”
As gentle and sweet as he’d been, taking such tender care to clean me up after we’d made love, part of me knew he was just looking out for me. But the part of me that was still insecure thought maybe this was just Max trying to tell me he didn’t want me now to avoid hurting my feelings.
“If you don’t want me, just say so!” I signed angrily.
His eyes narrowed on me. “What did you just say?”
Refusing to repeat myself, I crossed my arms over my chest, not even caring that I was completely naked as I glared up, up, up at him. Dang it, why did he have to be so tall? And so beautiful. Even when he was looking down at me like he wanted to spank me, he took my breath away.
Grabbing my hand firmly in one of his, he guided it to his body, wrapping it around his hardness. My mouth fell open at how hard his silky flesh was. Memories of how amazing he’d felt inside me filled my head, and my inner muscles clenched, causing my channel to burn slightly. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” he demanded, his signs jerky as he shaped each word. “I am throbbing, just as desperate to be inside you right now as I was two hours ago when we made love the first time. I ache for you, treasure.” My heart squeezed and my hand tightened around his shaft, but my fingers still wouldn’t connect. “I will be this hard for you, want you this bad, when I’m eighty, baby.”
I shivered, wanting his words to be true.
Wanting him to want me when he was eighty.
Simply wanting to still be his when he was eighty.
“I know you need time to trust me, but you’re going to realize I never say anything I don’t mean. I tried to warn you.” He backed me up against the wall, his head lowering until our gazes were even, but my attention was on his hands as he communicated with me. “You are mine now, treasure. There’s no going back. I’m never letting you go. Never.”
“I don’t want you to let me go.”
His nostrils flared, and the sight made my thighs clench
