Page 129 of Alphas Like Us

But then he hits the spot again—and every muscle snaps, every nerve bursts. I am fuckinggone.

“Fuck,” I groan, a climax roaring through me. I sheath the head of my erection with my hand, cum warming my palm. I pulsate in long, pleasuredwaves.

It takes me a second to reorient my mind. But I do. Maximoff is already pulled out, coming in his hand, and we clean up with paper towels. When he returns, we kiss strongly, and Maximoff tries to hide hissmile.

But I feel his lips rise against my mouth, and I pull back. “Are you going to say it or are you just going to dream about it?” Itease.

Confidently, he says, “I made you come hands-free.” It’s what he’s been obsessing over, and his tone says,I’m better than you atsex.

I don’t tear from hisgaze.

Shit, he’s hot and cute. And I love him hard. “You realize I made you come hands-free the last five times I fuckedyou?”

“That’s different. I’m a billion times easier to get off on prostate stimulation thanyou.”

I can’t deny that truth, and he moves away from me to use the sink, turning the gold faucet. I watch him while we get dressed, boxer-briefs and pants back on ourwaist.

I tuck my black shirt into my pants. He’s gone eerily quiet. Almostdazed.

My pulse skips a beat. I buckle my belt and then near him after he zips up hisjeans.

“Maximoff?”

He trains his faraway look onto me. “I did thiswrong.”

My ribs tighten, and I fish his button through the hole, helping him. “We just established that you fucked me reallywell.”

Maximoff hangs hishead.

He almost never hangs his head likethis.

“Hey.” I tilt my head sideways and bend a little. “Wolf scout, look atme.”

His chest collapses, and bloodshot eyes rise up to me. He looks conflicted, and I try to trace the paths back to what happened.Whathappened?

I shake my head. My stomach is in knots, and I hold the back of his neck in a protective grip. “Talk tome.”

He swallows hard, brows cinching in deep, anguished thought. “After thirty-hours apart, I saw you and I just really wanted to fuck your brains out. God, I didn’t even ask how your day was at thehospital.”

I see where this is going, and I knew we’d be here one day. But my chest hurts seeing him wrestle with thisshit.

Maximoff explains more, “And I don’t know if that means something’s wrong with me. Or if I just love sex. Or if I’m overthinking everything because my mom is a sex addict, and even if I think I’m in control, there’s a part of me that wonders,what if I’m not?And I can’t get out of my own goddamn head.” His voice actuallycracks.

I cup his cheek. “You’re okay.” Each word is like a knife in my gut because I feel how tormented this whole thing is for him. “You’re justoverthinking.”

“Whichpart?”

“All of it,” I whisper and kiss himtenderly.

He’s stillpained.

When we first started having sex, I asked him if he was worried about being a sex addict. He saidno.But before he was with me, he tried to control his sex life with parameters. Hookups at night. Never the same person. Never inpublic.

See, ourpublicrelationship has opened the door topublicsex. We can come out of a bathroom together and not give a flying shit if anyone catchesus.

We can also fuck at any hour, any day. Unlike the controlled one-night stands before. I figured at some point, he’d reevaluate everything and question what’snormal.

I just didn’t realize how much it’d pain me to see andfeel.