Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I lean back, my elbow on wet stone. My veins throb, and with my hand on his head, I feel him go up and down, up and down—the friction feels fucking incredible.
I grit down, arousal skyrocketing. I apply pressure on the back of his head, pushing his mouth further down. My cock hits the back of his throat—fuckingfuuuck.
I pulse and just come. Hard.
A groan scrapes my throat, lips closed as I clench my teeth. Fuck. My head almost lolls back, my heartbeat shoved in my esophagus.
Maximoff swallows my cum, and stroking me two last times with his hand, he pulls himself out of the water with absolute ease. And he stands over me, feet on either side of my thighs.
I look up. Water drips down his sculpted swimmer’s build, and his cock is in line with my mouth. Damn. My chest caves in a ragged breath.
I clutch his ass before he tries to put my hand there.
“No teasing,” he commands. “Just take me in your mouth.”
I roll my eyes. He’s bossy as hell, but he’s being bossier than usual. I figure out why in a split-second. His muscles bind, and he glances over at his chiming phone.
The outside interruptions are annoying him.
“You can put it on silent,” I suggest.
He leaves me, and he says, “I’m turning off my phone.”
My brows jump. He rarely powers off his phone. Because it means he’s handing off familial responsibility to another cousin, another sibling, someone else in reach other than him. “You sure, wolf scout?”
He’s at the bar, and the chiming suddenly ends. “Positive.”
“You sure we should do this?” Maximoff asks me while I massage his deltoids with lotion, our legs tangled with soft sheets. I’m careful of his healing injury, but he’s not referring to my hands.
We’re on our villa’s king-sized bed. Sheer white drapes billow off the canopy around us, and hot wind gusts through the ajar door that leads to the private pool and patio. The front door is locked.
Maximoff is referring to the laptop he just opened with no fucking hesitation. He already typed in a porn site.
Now all of a sudden, he’s slammed to a halt. “What are your reservations?” I ask, gently kneading his back muscle.
He spins around to face me, causing my hands to fall off him. Something is eating at him, and I want to call it fear—but it looks more like distress. It drives a knife in my gut.
I reach out and hold his hand.
“I keep thinking about the past three days here…” He gestures to his head. “I think about how I’ve loved every damn second. I love how we’ve just lounged in the sun, swam, fucked, eaten, and slept, but then I think, is it bad that I love that? I should want to leave the villa.”
Maximoff.
I try not to smile. “But you don’t want to,” I say matter-of-factly.
“Yeah.” He scrutinizes my rising lips, and it must be contagious because he begins to smile. “What?”
I lift my brows at him in a wave. “Man, I didn’t plan anything romantic for you outside of the villa, and you didn’t plan anything for me for a reason. And it has nothing to do with paparazzi. This isn’t a five-day unhealthy hideout from the world. It’s a five-day vacation before we link-up with your family.”
He listens closely.
“And you’re allowed to turn off your phone. It doesn’t mean you’re blocking everyone out to drown in a vice—there is no vice here.” I’m guessing this is the origin of his perpetual thoughts. He’s kept his phone off for three days. It’s not something he does, and there is guilt in the act, especially if he’s having a good time.
And we’ve had a lot of sex at the villa, but it’s been healthy. Not compulsive, not used to squash anxiety. See, I’ve read up on sex addiction for him. On everything I could find.
His small smile has been fading.
He needs more; I can give him more. “You don’t relax easily, but you’ve been extremely fucking relaxed the past three days.” I let go of his hand and squeeze two fingers together. “You have a big thing for ordinary shit, and I have a bigger thing for doing the ordinary shit with you.”
Breakfast in bed, massages, watching movies, laying out, swimming, showering together, these could fill his endless days. And I’d want them to fill mine too.
His eyes almost redden. “Repeat that.”
My pulse beats hard. “Which part?”
“All of it.”
I say it all again for him.
Maximoff smiles a gorgeous fucking smile when I’ve finished. “Alright. I want to do this.” He leans back on the birch headboard, taking the laptop with him. I follow suit, shoulder-to-shoulder, our ankles hooking.
“You pick the video,” Maximoff tells me, scrolling on a familiar gay porn site.
“How about you pick?” I’m definitely curious about what he’d gravitate towards, and I’m sure he feels the same about me.