Page 65 of The Cruelest Chaos

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Maverick asks, and I know exactly what he’s talking about. “Just wait until she comes.”

My breath catches as I arch my back and Maverick says, “That’s it, pretty girl. Come for me. Let us see it.” He keeps stimulating my clit with his thumb, but he pushes two fingers inside of me and the fullness undoes me completely. With the sensation of Ezra’s fingers still holding me apart, my orgasm crests.

I gasp, every nerve ending in my body tingling as I fist my hands against the side of his legs. But Maverick isn’t done making demands. “Who are you coming for?” he asks me, thrusting harder. “Who do you belong to?”

“You,” I gasp, “you—”

“What’s my fucking name?”

“Maverick.”I say it over and over again. “Maverick, Maverick, Maverick.” And when I’m finally finished, and Ezra’s hands are off of me and Maverick’s palm covers me, I float back to the ground, reality sinking in.

And I don’t care if it makes me seem like the nineteen-year-old girl that I am, but I twist in Maverick’s lap and bury my head in his shoulder, hoping to God he doesn’t laugh at me and push me away.

God seems to listen.

Maverick’s arms wrap around my back and he pulls me close, kissing the top of my head. “You were such a good girl,” he murmurs. And then he shifts me in his arms, picks me up like I’m a child, and stands to his feet.

“I’m going to bed,” he tells Ezra, and without another word, he walks out and carries me upstairs, letting me drift off to sleep in his bed, his body curled around mine.

Chapter Thirteen

“No, you nut!”I slap her hand away from the raw cookie dough. “That shit can make you sick!”

It’s past midnight early Friday morning, and it’s going much better than last night. Tonight, there’s no broken glass. And I don’t have to share.

Ella ignores my warning, dives her fingers into the raw cookies on the baking tray anyway and pinches off a piece, popping it into her mouth before I can stop her. She backs away in her bare feet, covering her chewing and her smirk with one hand.

I put the cookies in the oven, set the timer, let her think I’m just gonna ignore it. And then I spin around, crash her against the kitchen table. She catches herself on her palms, still chewing, shaking her head and trying not to choke.

“I-I’m—”

My fingers go to her sides, tickling her gently as she tries to squirm away. “What’s that, baby? I can’t quite hear you.”

She jerks in my grip, swallowing down the final mouthful of cookie dough and shoving her palms against my bare chest.

“I almostchoked, you asshole!” She slaps me playfully, and I pick her up, throw her over my shoulder and spin her around.

She’s laughing, her hands on my low back to keep her from falling off and crashing to the floor as I spin her faster and faster.

And then her fingers still against me.

She stops laughing.

I stop moving.

She’s still hanging upside down, and I know she’s staring right at my back. It’s not like she wouldn’t have seen it earlier, or after I fucked her in my bed this morning and left my shirt off. But now it’s up close and personal.

Shit.

I set her down on her feet, take a step back from her, my hands dropping to my sides.

She’s staring up at me, a slight crease between her brow. Her hands are on the table at her back, her foot sliding up her calf.

Silence stretches between us.

And then she says, “Mavy—”

“That’s not my name, baby,” I scold her gently.