An Ounce of Hope(84)

"Don't stop," he ordered before his throat began to bark out incomprehensible sounds and words.

He held her. He held her so tightly, as she moved. But she never panicked, she never told him not to. She took every thrust, every shove of his body into hers. She looked sensational with her head thrown back, neck elongated, and her tits begging for his lips. Unable to resist any longer, Max sat up with a moan and sucked her hard nipple into his mouth, and hummed into her soft skin when she bucked against him.

Grace cried out. "More."

He gave her more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, as she wound her pelvis in a luscious circle that nearly made him lose his damned mind.

"Close," he croaked as his hips started to piston upward, lifting her knees from the mattress. His orgasm was building, deep in his balls, stretching to his stomach.

Feeling all his energy start to push down into his groin, Max fell back onto the pillows, watching in breathless wonder as Grace continued to pull it from him. She lifted and fell, she demanded and begged, she swiveled and clenched, she thrust and grasped until, with a furious roar, Max exploded into her.




 

 

His back arched and his neck corded with its strength. "Holy fuck!"

Bright lights blinded him, as his body twitched and shivered.

Grace continued to ride him, moaning as his cock twitched inside her, relief seizing Max from his head to his feet, as waves of euphoria crashed over him until he couldn't take it. He held Grace fast, stilling her movements, moaning at her to please, God, stop. The small part of his brain that remained in his skull and wasn't splattered on the ceiling like the rest of it grimaced when he realized Grace hadn't come again.

Her small body eventually collapsed onto his chest, and he immediately felt her pulse as it raced under the delicately soft skin of her spine. Max's limp arms held her, spent and breathing heavily. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and his eyes closed briefly of their own volition, despite his attempts at keeping them open.

Still panting and with his heart doing laps behind his ribs, he patted her back gently. "Can you-? I need to get rid of this."

Sweaty and glorious, Grace placed her hands on his chest and lifted her body slowly. Max gripped the base of the condom, hissing at the friction, and sat up as she plopped down at his side. "I'll be back in a minute."

Washed up, buck-ass naked, and feeling pretty damned great, Max strolled back into the bedroom to find Grace sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed wearing a large black T-shirt that covered every fantastic inch of her. "Spoil sport," he teased, smiling. He kneeled beside her and moved his hand between her legs, seeking out her clit. Grace's fingers on his wrist made him pause.

"It's all right," she whispered, her smile dopey and gorgeous. "Honestly."

Max's hand dropped to the bed with a thump. He sighed and reached for his underwear. "If you're sure," he muttered, pulling on his boxer briefs, glancing at her surreptitiously for any sign of freak-out or regret. To his relief, he saw none.

She watched him as he dressed. "You're superthorough, huh?" Max looked at her questioningly. She looked pointedly toward the bathroom. The condom.

"Yeah, well," he replied, sitting down to put on his shorts. "We don't want any accidents. Believe me, they happen."

"Christopher was an accident?"

Max swallowed at the sound of his son's name. "He wasn't planned."

"But you and Lizzie, you both wanted him, right?"

Max paused, keeping his eyes on the floor. "Yes. Yes, we both wanted him very much."

"But you'd never consider having kids again?" Grace's voice was soft. "Ever?"

Max yanked on his shorts, leaving them undone, and adjusted himself on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. "I don't know," he answered honestly, his fingers trailing a path through his hair. "I . . . I couldn't go through that again." His heart twisted in his chest. "Seeing the person you love shatter like that." 

Grace moved closer, the smell of their sex wafting around them as the blankets moved, conjuring an interested pulse from Max's cock despite the topic of conversation. "What happened with Christopher was tragic, Max, but it's also rare." She squeezed his hand. "You shouldn't close yourself off to the possibility-"

"Look," Max bristled, his just-got-laid buzz changing into something darker, something that lay dormant only because his meds and his therapy kept it so. He pulled his hand away. "I know what you're saying but those things that women want-love, babies, a future-I don't have the ability to provide those." His voice was sharp, making Grace flinch. He paused and exhaled. "I did. Once. But they were lost a long time ago and they're not ever coming back."