Page 93 of Catching Trouble

He pressed his chest harder to mine, skin hot and delicious, then brought his lips to my ear. With the softest groan, he drove into me—slow at first, hitting that same spot. Each time, plunging me deeper. And just when I thought my brain might explode, he sped up. It was different—not so absolutely overwhelming, but just as exquisite.

As Maxime moved against me, soft grunts escaped his mouth, and I joined the party, meeting his hips with every pass. His ragged breath mingled with mine as he pummelled into me, our bodies sliding together, slick with heat.

Every time our skin brushed, heat flooded my body—glorious, delicious, like a plunge into hot water. In response, every cell inside me danced, as if being close to Maxime had unleashed a million tiny bubbles into my veins.

His fast breath filled my brain, and like I was clinging to a ship going down, I raked my nails across his back. At thecontact, Maxime hissed my name, closing his arms around me—tight and powerful—trapping me against his body as he drove into me.

My breath shuddered in my chest. I’d never felt so connected to another person—lover or otherwise. It was as if we shared the same skin, breathed the same air. As if our hearts had been made to find each other.

Maxime was everything.

At the thought, a tight, exquisite pulse of pleasure bloomed low in my belly, then spread—rising and consuming me completely.

I sucked in a breath. “Max … oh … oh no…” The words came unbidden—and unwelcome. I never wanted this moment to end.

He ground out my name against my skin and bit into my neck, thrusting harder.

At the bolt of pure pleasure he sent through me, I had no choice. I unravelled in his arms, caught in a spiral of exquisite release.

And pulling me closer still, Maxime came—rocking into me, my name on his lips.

28

CHLOE

Ipeeled my eyes open, blinking into the light. Maxime’s room swam into focus. A shock of blue from the sea far below cut through the gentle sway of his whitecurtains, and the distinct tang of the salty air tickled at my nose. The only sound was the far-off lap of waves and the gentle hum of insects in the garden.

The tickle of Maxime’s soft, steady breath at my nape spread a scatter of goosebumps down my arms. And the warmth and weight of his arm around my waist anchored me.

I smiled. I was really here. In Maxime’s bed. The last thing I’d wished for when I fell asleep, somewhere near dawn? That our night hadn’t been a dream. That everything we’d done—every secret we’d shared—was real, and that in the harsh light of day, he’d regret nothing.

He stirred at my back, the light scratch of his stubble brushing against my shoulder. I let out a slow breath and his thick, tattooed arm wrapped tighter around me, fingers splayed across my ribs.

Maxime was real and based on his hardness currentlytucked at my bottom, reporting for action. My insides curled in delight at the thought.

We’d spent the most amazing night. There’d been no repeat of the knot tying. Instead, we’d explored each other’s bodies—slowly, leisurely, deliciously. He’d been incredible. He’d shown me what he liked. And he’d been more than generous in sharing his own talents. It was almost as if someone had designed him just for me. Entirely for my pleasure.

The last thing I remembered before falling asleep were his whispers at my neck and his arms tight around me.

Craving the same connection, I reached behind, tracing a path across his hip, when an indistinct thump came from somewhere in the hallway.

I froze. Was Sophie up already? Not being one to wear a watch, I didn’t know what time it was, but she often slept late.

I listened a few beats longer, but with no other sound, I settled my shoulders, fully intending to continue my path across Maxime’s hip. I wanted to wake him in the best way possible, but another thump came from the hallway.

I chewed on my bottom lip. If Sophie was up and about, I’d have to wait in Maxime’s room. Shelter in place. She couldn’t see me here. If he caused a distraction, I could slip out through the back of the house. He usually left the door to the garden open.

But a slam ofSophie’sdoor wrested me from my plotting.

“Maman!” The word rang out, clear as day.

My heart stuttered to a halt.

It was Sophie’s voice.

I reached for Maxime, gripping him hard. He moved against me, wrapping his arm even tighter around my waist, nuzzling into my neck.

I shook him this time. “Maxime. Listen.”