Page 57 of My Pucking Crush
Luca
W e land back in Connecticut close to midnight after the bitter Richmond win. I’m walking Max to his car, when he gets a call.
“Fuck, I have to take this.” He stops in his tracks. “Hi, Mom. What? When? Mom, I can’t just leave. It’s the playoffs . You’d know that if—” He holds the phone away from his ear, as yelling on the other end grates my nerves.
I open the car door for him like I’d been doing for months. This time when our hands touch, he yanks his away.
His parents trigger him. Fuck.
Meanwhile, I’m keyed up about the Jake Quinn intel, but I can’t share it with him.
Max shakes his head and says he’ll call his mother back. Shoving the phone into his pocket, he gets in the car, but doesn’t say a word.
We drive for a while, and finally, Max’s hand drifts to my thigh. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I glance at him. “I’ll forgive you if you blow me.”
He laughs. “I would have done that anyway.”
I love that I got him to love giving blowjobs.
“Can we stop at the waterfront?” His words raise alarm bells in my head.
“Plan to throw me in?”
“No.” He squeezes my leg. “You’d swim right back to the shore and break into my apartment, wouldn’t you?”
“Da,” I answer. “But it’s late. I’d rather keep you safe in your penthouse.”
Max exhales and stares straight ahead, not arguing with me.
We reach his apartment building, and he immediately slogs to the windows that face the downtown harbor. Max’s head hangs low, fingers rubbing his eye sockets. My feet move toward him before my brain tells them to stop. A fire ignites in my gut seeing him emotionally struggle through so much pain.
He’s mine and I can’t have this.
“What happened, baby?” I cup his shoulder. “What did your mother want? Something with your brother?”
As far as I know, Max wired the ten grand to bail out his brother, but the fucker never called him to discuss legal fees. How dare they abuse this amazing man?
“My high school coach died.” Max shifts on his heels. “Coach Avalon.”
“Hockey coach?” My brows furrow together.
“Yeah,” he says with a laugh. “It’s only ever been hockey.”
He squeezes my hand with the kind of grip that signals he’ll let go a second later.
“Are you going to the services?”
“My mom expects me to. But we’ve got games to play.”
“Where’re the funeral services?”
Max looks up at me. “Long Island, where I grew up.”
I stand abreast of him at the windows. “Just across the Sound? We can take the ferry over, go to the service, and be back in time for the next game.”
He spins toward me. “You’re my bodyguard, not my personal assistant.”
“I’m not either right now.” I grip his arms. “Right now, I’m your... ”
His eyes soften. “You don’t know how to answer that either.” He doesn’t know what the hell we are either. Or what we’re doing.
“I’m your friend. Your bodyguard with benefits at the moment.”
“Is that enough for you?” Max twists his tie around one hand. “Do you want more?”
“Don’t fucking tease me,” I say through clenched teeth.
Can I work for Sebastian Daria and then return here every night? Max already saw me full of blood, taking out his attacker.
“I was thinking...” Max reaches for my hand and holds it over my head against the window. “When you’re with that family in New York, get them to take out Belova.”
“The idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. You don’t just kill a mafia leader.” Especially not one holding my sister.
Belova might have a love for Samara that’s rooted in our growing up together, but that doesn’t apply to the savages who work for him. They wouldn’t hesitate to take her out as revenge on me for killing their leader.
Max kisses my neck, holding me against the window. “Then we hide you. Stay here. Be my...”
“Be your what? Your wife?”
A vision forms in my head. I’m coming home to this apartment with blood on my clothes from degenerate gamblers who needed to be taught a lesson. Adrenaline rushing through my veins from the kill. Max sucking my dick and fucking me to ease the ache of taking a life. But can it really happen?
Max reaches for my belt, masterfully has it undone, and opens my trousers. “I have money to protect you. To protect both of us. ”
“I won’t live like that,” I say, but groan when his hand closes around my cock.
“Always so fucking hard for me.” He nips at my ear.
Max steps back and removes his suit, one seductive stitch at a time. I do the same, but don’t know if it has the same effect on him.
His eyes light up more when I’m fully undressed, when my tattoos and piercings tease him.
He tosses his clothes aside, and I add mine to the pile. “Come here,” he says gruffly.
I’m aching to kiss him, but I need to be myself, not always giving in to him. I grab his dick and squeeze. “Get on your knees and suck me first.”
Max grips my hips with bruising strength and lowers to the living room carpet. The room would be pitch black if it weren’t for the shining, bright full moon. His mouth is only around my cock for a few minutes, the mindless pleasure making me forget every sick fucking thing I learned tonight. Do I tell him about Quinn hiring his own protection? Or the risk I took for him.
Certainly not now.
Max pulls off and says, “I want to fuck you rough.”
Someone’s found his wings and is loving dick.
Max brings me into his bedroom and collapses onto the bed. “Ride me, bodyguard.”
Before I crawl to him, he squirts lube all over the head of his cock. With our eyes locked, I get on top of him, and I guide him toward my hole. As I slide down inch by torturous inch, pleasure shudders through me.
“Hold on to the headboard, tough guy,” he rasps. “Take my cock like the killer you are.”
I grab a wooden slat with both hands and let my body open to him. Sleeping with a client I’m protecting is reckless. I’ve been breaking the rules every day to be with Max. Consequences be damned .
“Look at me,” he whispers.
My gaze finds his, the raw emotion gutting me. I keep easing him into me. That familiar burn has me trembling, but when he reaches my prostate, my body rocks like it’s DEFCON-1.
That’s when I need to go crazy on him . I push down until he’s fully seated inside me. Max’s tight jaw lets slip muffled curses, his fingers gripping my ass.
My white-knuckled grip on the headboard cracks a slat and I have to let go.
“Jesus! Breaking my bed from such a good fucking?” Max huffs out.
Just don’t break my heart in return.
“I’ll break more than that,” I say instead.
We haven’t used condoms. Some guys say they can’t feel the difference when they’re getting fucked. But the enjoyment from every inch of Max’s bare cock inside me, the slickness of the lube, the heat from our friction, his throbbing, veiny texture drives me wild.
With every rock of my hips from fucking him, his face gets redder, more stern, more primal. “I’m close,” he says, gripping my cock.
The left-over lube from his hands slicks me up, and it feels like I’m the one buried inside him.
“Kiss me,” he demands.
I lower my head and give him a filthy carnal kiss. His tongue and mouth are so wet and warm, welcoming my tongue inside.
He strokes my dick, and I lean back, my hands on his thighs right behind my ass.
“I want to come with you on top,” I mutter.
His eyes sparkle as he grabs my ass, lifting me. He lays me out on the bed, all while staying buried inside me.
Was that arm strength? Core strength? Lust fueled adrenaline? Can he lift a car next, just to get me off the way I want?
Max settles himself between my spread legs. I’ve never felt more open and vulnerable. He strangles my hips as he savagely fucks me.
I jerk my own cock, watching his narrowed eyes as he chases his orgasm.
“Come,” he grunts and pumps faster.
I feel so full. He’s everywhere. But another hard thrust hits that spot inside me again, that impossibly deep zing of erotic pleasure that can cripple a man like me. Now I’m chasing an orgasm, too.
The heat of his cock fucking me raw recedes the burns and brings me to that razor’s edge of pleasure and pain. But it’s never felt like this. Max’s fullness and satisfying fuck feels like a drug.
With one hand stroking my cock at a fevered pace, I run my other hand down the planes of Max’s abs. “You are so fucking hot.”
“Fuck,” he bites out and throws his head back again. “Keep touching me like that and I’ll blow before you’re ready to come.”
Our skin connects and the warmth finishes me off. This is real. I’m done for. Hooked.
Cum shoots from my dick, coating his abs. The pearly ropes slide down the ridges and fuck, I can cum again just looking at it.
His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he loses it.
When he faces me again, his cock thickens to a painful width in my ass. His pupils fully dilated, he groans, “I’m gonna...”
“Fuck me with everything you have, baby. I can take it. Destroy me.” My cum-drizzled fingers pinch his nipples .
He surprises me when he leans forward to hold me. His teeth graze my neck while he keeps bucking and thrusting.
After hitting a spot behind my ear that I really can’t take, I mutter, “Kiss me. Kiss me when you come.”