Page 85 of Invisible String (The Underground #1)
“Yes, I have already and always will. If the question you’re asking is if I lost my memory, would I find you? Yes, baby, just like your heart led you to approach me all those years ago, so would mine. Remember, invisible strings tied us together.”
It was a very visible gold string for him, but for me, it was invisible because I didn’t know how tied up we were, which makes it more special than I had presumed. I had been upset. I didn’t recognize him, but he’s right, my heart did. The pull was strong.
A tear sounds in my shorts, causing Max to wince. He sometimes underestimates his own strength, resulting in my shorts or underwear ripping when he pulls them off. “Always soaking.”
Thick fingers thrust at my entrance. Our lips sink into a desperate hunger. Wild and rough. My hips rock to his speed. My man knows how to work my body, which no one else can do.
“I’m going to ride you,” I breathe out, panting from his soul tongue sucking. “Like a sports car.”
He laughs. “Oh, yeah.”
“Yeah, I’ll ride you real fast. Like an Aston Martin.”
“You’re a reckless driver,” he quips.
Hums rumble from my chest, his fingers still working. “You like me reckless in bed.”
“I do,” he says, pulling his fingers out.
I lift myself as the tip of him teases me.
“Buckle up, passenger princess. You’re in for a ride.”
All laughter dies as I sink into him. Every friction of our skin-to-skin contact is maddening.
The room fills with soft, echoing moans, creating an intimate symphony.
As he fully enters, the stretch transitions into a wave of intense pleasure that courses through my body.
My hips move in a rhythmic dance, each motion synchronized with the electric pulses of ecstasy.
We fit perfectly.
Teeth nip at my nipples, fingers dig into my entrance. The pleasure is so unreal with Max.
His voice is low and rough, a possessive edge coloring his words as he grips my hips tightly.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he groans, his breath hot against my skin.
With each powerful movement, the bed frame rattles loudly, echoing against the wall, a rhythmic pounding that matches the intensity of what we are doing.
“Always have been.” I kiss him, mirroring his possessiveness. “You’re mine, Max Cano.”
“From the first day.” He flips us over, and goosebumps rise on my neck when his lips brush against the skin. “You’re right. You rode me like a sports car. It’s my turn to show you I can work your body into overdrive.” His voice is a delicious rumble in my ear.
My fingers glide over his inked back, tracing the intricate tattoos that ripple over muscles layered beneath the skin. Despite the powerful build, I can still feel the faint ridges of scars beneath my touch, a silent testament to his past.
Max’s body moves like a machine. His stamina is something else. I arch my back, needing the final deep rooting thrust to take me over the edge into oblivion. Max’s mouth is all over my neck sucking, kissing. “Max,” I scream.
“That’s my good girl.”
Fuck, his voice is hot when he says, “good girl.”
“Take it, babe. Come for me.”
Damnit, his dirty talk sends me over the flipping edge.
Our bodies shudder with a chorus of groans and moans as we descend from the pinnacle of ecstasy. The sensations slowly ebb away, leaving us in a serene aftermath, our breaths mingling in the quiet space around us.
“Mmm,” I say, still high on this man. I’m telling you he’s like a drug. You keep wanting the next hit.
“Are you good?” Max drops loving kisses all over my face.
“Yes.” It was the best distraction. However, I always want Max. Now that the high has faded, I can think. I completely forgot. I missed my birth control pill twice this week.
Fuck.
I’ll have to get up early to buy the day-after pill. Now is not the time for kids when I’m uncertain of my life or who I am.
Max rolls off me, walks his naked hot ass to the bathroom. I throw my head back and groan. Why does he have to look so good?
He grabs a towel and cleans my legs. “We made a mess,” he jokes.
“We always do.”
He grins proudly at himself.
We snuggle under the blankets, and Max draws me close against his chest. The rhythmic beating of his heart is like a gentle lullaby.
“Let’s get some rest. I’ll let the guys know in the morning that I won’t be in. And I’ll help at the café. That way, you can get the day off or order me around.”
My fingertips brush against his tattooed arm. He’s sweet.
“Thank you. We can figure it out in the morning.”
“Okay. Good night, tesoro mío .”
I kiss his chest. “Good night.”
Within seconds, he’s already snoring.
Once again, my thoughts are filled with a mixture of emotions.
I think of the man who’s never forgotten me.
He didn’t let go even when I pushed him away months ago.
But this time it’s different. It’s me who might need the space.
I love him too much to always be the trigger in his life.
He deserves a woman who’s had a normal life.
I thought it was me, but I’m far from that now.
I close my eyes, hoping the rest will give me better headspace.