Page 24 of BillionHeir

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Chloe

I collapse against Max’s chest, struggling to drag air into my lungs after the amazing orgasm I just experienced. Damn, that was good.

“That,” he says, his deep baritone voice vibrating through me as he speaks, “was fucking unbelievable.”

I somehow manage to pick my head up from his chest and arch an eyebrow. “Unbelievable as in amazing or unbelievable as in questionable?”

Maxwell huffs out a laugh. “Do you seriously think I had a questionable time? Unbelievable as in excellent or fantastic. I think I would even go so far as to say it was magnificent.”

I giggle a little and start to roll off of him, but he reaches up and stops me with his good arm.

“Don’t go,” he says, almost pleading with me.

“I just don’t want to crush you.”

“I am fine. I am not even wearing my sling anymore.”

“Yes, well, you are still recovering from a helicopter accident, aren’t you? I don’t want to set you back.” I think for a second before coming up with an idea. “Hang on, then.”

Not even considering my complete nakedness, I get up on my hands and knees to rearrange the pillows. I can feel his eyes watching me, and I can only imagine the view he must be getting right now.

“Lie here,” I say, pointing to the mound of pillows I have just made.

Maxwell follows my orders without question, sitting up and moving across the mattress so that his back is propped up with his legs out in front of him. I grab one of the earlier discarded blankets and sit down between his legs with my back to him so that we can both watch the storm.

“This is perfect,” he says as I cover us both with the blanket and relax against his chest. He wraps his arms around me and sighs contentedly .

We are positioned perfectly to see out the window.

The storm has calmed slightly from its peak but is still battering the coast with violent waves.

It is quite the contrast being so warm and cozy and peaceful here in his mansion.

The storm might be howling outside, but inside, I have never felt safer and more protected.

As we lie there in silence, Maxwell gently runs his hands over every inch of my body that is within reach.

His fingertips glide up and down my arms and stomach, into my hair and across my bare chest. It is almost like he has to keep touching me to make sure I am real.

Like I am not some figment of his imagination.

His soothing touch calms my mind, and my thoughts begin drifting to the future. It is all so uncertain right now. For as long as I can remember, I have had to get up every day and go to work at a job I didn’t necessarily love to pay the endless bills that never seem to stop coming.

But after accepting Maxwell’s sizable salary offer, money is no longer an issue. So, what is next?

I think a trip home is definitely in the cards, as well as a stop in Wyoming to check out Jenna’s new place with Jackson. But what about after that? I can’t just wander about the world with no plans for the future, can I?

No. That is not the person I want to be. This money isn’t going to last my whole life. Plenty of people have blown through a small fortune by overspending. I need to plan appropriately. I have never been the type of person to go off half-cocked, and I am not about to start now.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, startling me from my daydream.

I hadn’t realized just how deep in my head I was until he spoke. I don’t want to scare him by confessing that I am thinking about the future. Let’s be honest, no man wants to hear that right after a good shag.

So I go with something a little easier.

“Visiting my mum.”

It is not the whole truth, but it is something in the future that I am looking forward to. As soon as I respond, I can feel his body tense underneath mine. His hands come to a rest on my stomach.

“When are you going?” he asks casually.

“I don’t know yet. I hadn’t gotten quite that far.”

“Take the jet,” he says nonchalantly, as though he is lending me a book or something.

I don’t really want to have that kind of transactional relationship with Maxwell.

I can certainly afford a plane ticket now, and I would never want him to think that I am using him for his money.

Paying me to be his nurse is one thing but giving me free handouts because we are sleeping together is another thing entirely .

Rather than starting what is sure to be an argument by turning down his offer, I stay quiet, enjoying the feeling of his arms wrapped around me.

I can’t think of a time when I have felt this relaxed with a man.

There is something about Maxwell that puts me at ease.

Maybe it is how well I have gotten to know him over these last few weeks, but despite the fact that the sexual tension has only grown between us, I find myself getting more and more comfortable with him.

So comfortable it is a little scary, if I am honest.

A moment later, his hands start to move again, and I feel the familiar strings of sleep start to pull me under.

* * *

I am awoken by a loud clap of thunder. The vibration rattles through the house as another nearby lightning strike brightens the sky outside, and the power suddenly blinks out.

Disorientated, I start to sit up in the darkness when I feel Max move behind me, his hand finding my shoulder to soothe my anxiety from the storm.

Our position has shifted to us lying on our sides with him spooning me from behind.

I don’t know when we moved, but I am comfortable here with him, electricity or not.

As soon as I think about it, the refrigerator hums to life in the kitchen .

“Seabanks has automatic backup generators to cover the essentials when the power goes out,” Max explains without me having to ask.

“Are we going to be okay?” I ask nervously.

“This house has weathered storms much stronger than this,” he answers calmly. “If we were in any real danger, we would have left the house long ago. I think this should be the worst of it.”

My eyes go to the picture window which is being pelted by the heavy wind and rain. Even enshrouded in the dark, I can see the angry waves beating relentlessly against the shore. Lightning flashes again, and the boom of thunder follows immediately, making me jump in fright.

I shudder as I think about being here for a storm worse than this one. If I wasn’t wrapped in Maxwell’s arms right now, I would probably be shaking in fear.

I wiggle back, pushing myself further into his arms that instantly tighten around me protectively.

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he says huskily into my ear.

He loosens his hold on me as I turn my face toward his voice. Our eyes meet in the dark before he leans down and captures my lips with his.

My fear is replaced with red hot lust. Max’s hand finds my still naked breast, and I gasp as he squeezes my nipple between his fingers.

The pinch of pain surprises and excites me.

He was gentle before, but now I am wondering what other tricks he might have up his sleeve.

A groan of pleasure escapes my lips, which seems to encourage him even more.

“Damn, woman, you are so fucking hot,” he says before pinching my nipple again, this time a little harder. I swear I can feel it all the way in my core.

I gasp for air as my hands glide over his skin and down his back. I latch onto his hip and pull him toward me.

“I want you,” I say between kisses.

“Fuck, baby. I want you, too,” he says against my mouth. “But I only brought one condom. I didn’t want you to think I was a total sex addict with a pocket full of rubbers.”

I would be disappointed if I wasn’t so prepared. “I have an IUD.”

I can see him considering what I have just said as a smile grows across his lips.

“I don’t normally do this,” I stammer out, not wanting him to think I am some kind of floozy. “I was recently tested, as well, so you don’t need to worry about any diseases. And I am not going to try to trap you with some unwanted pregnancy, either. That is definitely not my style.”

Max gets an amused look on his face. I realize that I am babbling and finally stop talking.

“Are you done?” he asks with a confident smirk.

I nod, keeping my mouth shut .

Without another word, he leans forward and kisses me again. Where before our kisses were feverish and intense, now he is unhurried and leisurely, as though we have all the time in the world. I suppose we do, but the swift change of pace has left me feeling a little out of sorts.

Max kisses me like I am the woman of his dreams. His hand runs up and down my body, leaving chills behind. It feels like he is worshiping me, and I have never felt so special in my life.

When he rises up above me and positions himself between my legs, I can feel his bare skin press against me.

Our eyes meet and we both freeze. The significance of this moment, of what we are doing together, passes through us.

Going bareback isn’t something either one of us would normally do, but this isn’t a normal situation.

I give Max my best seductive nod, encouraging him to continue.

He shifts his hips forward, rocking into me with a moan of pleasure.

My back arches arch up off the mattress at the delicious feeling of fullness.

I have never felt more connected to another person as I do now, and not just physically.

The unexpected thread that binds the two of us together has never felt more powerful.

I shouldn't have worried about whether or not he was strong enough to support himself in this position.

His good arm braces firmly on the mattress as he works himself inside of me, pulsing deeper and deeper.

My legs instinctively spread wider so I can take him completely.

Once he fits all the way inside me, he pulls out to the tip and begins to pound me with long, full strokes.

He makes it look effortless, save for the bead of sweat on his forehead and the determined look on his face.

“Max!” I scream out in ecstasy as the pleasure becomes too much for me to take anymore.

“Shit, Chloe, I am so close. Where do you want me to come?”

“Anywhere,” I rasp out without really thinking about it.

“Fuck,” he groans right before he pulls out and shoots steaming hot ribbons of ejaculate on my stomach. He collapses onto the mattress next to me, his arm splayed out across my chest territorially.

“Oh my God,” I say finally, throwing an arm over my face with exhaustion.

“The name is Max, babe. Not God.”

I giggle as I turn my head to get a better look at him. His eyes are on mine, almost glowing with pleasure in the dark. He smiles at me, completely disarming me with the unguarded look on his face.

I start to turn my body toward him but then remember the mess we just made.

“Hang on,” he says, jumping up from our cozy spot on the floor and disappearing from view.

A moment later, he is back with a warm cloth. He carefully cleans my stomach from the effects of our lovemaking before discarding it on the floor and climbing back into our nest, pulling me so that he is spooning me from behind again.

He has been so sweet, kind, and compassionate tonight. Nothing at all like the man I met a few short weeks ago.

“What time is it?” I ask as the weight of the day finally hits me. I am exhausted.

“About four in the morning, I think?” he says, yawning.

I groan as I wiggle into him, trying to get comfortable. He stops me with his hand on my hip.

“You keep doing that and we are going to end up right where we were before, sweetness,” Max says with amusement in his deep-voiced warning.

I giggle again. “Noted.”

My eyes drift closed as I think about the evening’s events.

The most romantic date anyone has ever planned for me with one of the richest men in America, followed by spending the night in his arms. I am one lucky lady.

I won’t lie and say that spending my life in the safety of his strong powerful arms doesn’t sound like something out of my wildest fantasies.

I can take care of myself, of course. But for once, it would be nice to not have to be the strong one.

For someone to want to pick up some of the load I have been carrying.

Lord knows the weight of everything going on in my life, from my best friend moving away, to my mother’s cancer diagnosis, has been almost more than I can bear .

But I don’t expect that Maxwell wants to help with any of my baggage. I am a grown woman, and I will continue to lug it around the way I have done, won’t I?

I am not foolish enough to think that having sex means that he wants to marry me. Far from it actually. Men like Maxwell Banks don’t settle down with common women like me. Things like that just don't happen. That is the stuff of fairy tales, and I would do well to remember that.

But a girl can dream, can’t she?