The Sensible One (boyxboy) ✓

Chapter Twenty Four

[Maxwell's POV]

This absolutely wasn't normal. This impression was not something newly gained but rather something that repeated itself throughout the night.

I wasn't myself, or perhaps I was but I had never seen this part of me before. Breathing heavily I looked up at my ceiling that needed a fresh paint of eggshell white and closed my eyes to the rough kisses of a young man I still barely knew, and yet who I felt as though I had known all my life. His lips felt familiar on my skin, his teeth even, sharp as they lightly bit my neck, eyes squinting almost shut as he inhaled and slid his hand up my back.

My blood was burning, desire was a mild term for it, I sank into him and justified it, that I would feel better after we were done, that then I could rework the relationship between us so that it was more even, more normal.

This plan changed, however, the second time he had me pressed up against the bathroom wall, impaled so deep inside me I hissed and gripped onto him for dear life and couldn't breathe as he moved too fast for me to keep up. Instead I gritted my teeth and closed my eyes, frantic moans as I tried to find sanity as pleasure came in sharp shards and made my face warm and red, my hair a mess, lips warm and parted and bruised, I was ashamed to admit, that was partly my fault.

In an upright position with my legs wrapped around him as he inexplicably was able to hold us both up even with my fingers desperately digging into his broad shoulders.

I kept my eyes closed, tried to retain some normalcy, because looking into those blazing eyes and seeing the figure of a man who was so attractive it practically dripped with sex, was not helpful. But even as I was clawing ever closer to an orgasm, I could not escape that damned scent, like a deep amber, spicy and musky and so addictive it made me tremble.

"Say it..." He murmured against my neck, low and resonant.

I swallowed and shivered as he drove inside sharply, sensitive shards of pleasure dug deep inside me as I opened my eyes a millimetre, his voice as well, too sexy to stand. "Say what?" I mumbled.

"You belong to me." He spoke as though it was a threat, with a demanding voice that made my skin feel sensitive. The thrusts became faster and meaner, and yet I was ringing with pleasure and barely able to hold on. My legs trembled around him, even if he was strong enough to hold me I wasn't sure I was strong enough to be held. "Say it."

My head felt dizzy, my mouth open, I could barely breathe, let alone talk. "Lowell..." I breathed out. "I can't-"

"Who do you belong to?" He asked in a loud growl that filled the room, eyes more than blazing, the colour in them almost shifting so that I squinted at him with burning cheeks and an open mouth.

I responded without thinking. "Yours... I..." I groaned as another fierce thrust sent shards of pleasure through me. "Lowell..." I furrowed my brows, looking up at him desperately. "Bed... bed..."

"Say it..." He demanded, eyes still pinning me back, turning me inside out.

The room spun. "Bite me." I whispered softly against his neck, struggling to keep my face hidden as we moved. My thighs were hurting, my breathing laboured. I wasn't thinking right.

And without thinking I stretched out my neck, still deep under the blanket of heat that enlightened every nerve ending, that set my head into a spin. I stretched out and tilted my head and felt the orgasm edging closer despite me desperately trying to feel some control over it, I wouldn't be able to hold myself back much longer.