I exhale through my nose, telling myself to keep it together when all I want to do is ram inside her until we both splinter apart. She’s riding my cock back and forth, in and out, her breasts swaying, her ass nudging against my front until I’m balls-deep buried in her snug heat.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I tell her, urging her on. The people are gone. I didn’t even hear them leave, too enraptured with the way she’s taking me, fucking me. Because she is definitely the one fucking me right now. I’m letting her control the depth, the speed, because I’m fascinated with the way she moves, the shape of her ass, the eager yet controlled way she rides me.

She swings her head, the hoop earrings flaring out as she watches me from over her shoulder yet again. Her eyes are dark, her mouth parted as if she’s struggling for breath. I reach for her, my hand snaking into her hair, fingers gripping the strands as I tug, bringing her to me. She lifts up, my cock still embedded in her body, her back to my front as we kiss, tongues tangling, teeth clashing, and she moans so loudly I’m afraid she’ll draw attention to us up here.

Not so afraid that it’ll stop us from doing this, though. There’s something freeing about being up here where anyone could see us, our bodies bared and the moonlight shining on her skin, her soft moans, my harsh grunts, the breeze wafting across our connected bodies, cooling our heated skin.

“You having fun controlling our fucking?” I ask when I break the kiss first. She smiles against my mouth. “Ready for me to take over?”

“You don’t like what I’m doing?” She squeezes those velvety inner walls around my cock, making me groan, and then I’m shifting her around so she bends back over, her hands on the railing once more, my hand in her hair and the other hand on her hip as I start to pound inside of her. Taking her.

Claiming her.

She doesn’t miss a beat, her body moving with mine, her legs going wider and somehow sending me even deeper. I let go of her hair and grip either side of her hips, thrusting so hard my stomach slaps against her ass hard. Again. Harder. Taking her deep, my fingers embedded in her skin, my balls brushing against her pussy.

“Oh, fuck yes,” she whispers just before I feel her come apart, her pussy clenching around my dick, her body quivering. I gather her up close, hold her through her orgasm, crooning a mixture of sweet and dirty words in her ear that make her shudder harder, her body melting against mine. I’m strung tight, my head spinning, my heart racing, my cock pulsating with the need to come, and when she finally quiets, that last shivery breath escaping her, I begin to move again.

“Bend over and hold on tight, princess,” I tell her, and she does as I command. “I’m going to fuck you hard.” It’s supposed to be a warning, but I don’t think she’s scared.

No, not scared at all. She wags that tempting butt at me, my cock still buried deep, and I slide in farther, as far as I can go. Taking her without care, using her with every mad thrust of my hips. I’m like an animal out of control, unleashed, the familiar tingling at the base of my spine starting, spreading up, over, taking me straight over the edge until I’m the one falling completely apart.

And wondering, for once in my life, if I can ever be put back together again.

Chapter nineteen

Max

LIKE THE DICK I AM, I walked her to her bungalow, claiming I wanted to tuck her in.

“Can’t I just stay the night in your room?” she’d whispered as she’d rubbed her hands all over my chest, her sexy body scooting closer to mine.

I’d slipped out of my bed and gathered up her clothes, thrusting her dress and panties out toward her. “Get dressed, princess.” I ignored what she said, and she was still a little drunk, a little too out of it to question me further.

She let me into her bungalow—through the locked front door since she didn’t keep the slider unlocked anymore, thank God—and I steered her toward the bedroom, helping her strip out of her clothes before I took her by the shoulders and gently pushed her into bed.

“Don’t go.” She held her arms out to me, the sheet falling to her waist, those spectacular breasts on display just for me. I see a red mark on her neck and I know that’s from my lips. Pride fills me, swift and sharp, and I tell myself I’m an asshole for getting a thrill out of marking her, but that doesn’t matter.

It still makes me proud. Makes me want to beat my chest, grab Lily by the hair, and proclaim to the world that she’s mine.

Fucking ridiculous.

“Come here.” I stretch out beside her on the bed, above the covers, because I know if I slip below them, I’ll start touching her again and then I’m done for.

She snuggles into my arms, a sigh escaping her as she rests her head against my chest. I press a kiss to the top of her head and rest my chin there, willing myself to resist her despite how good she feels, how delicious she smells. I just had her not even twenty minutes ago. We had sex three times in the span of no more than ninety minutes and it was fucking amazing every single time.

But then she started to fade. Lots of yawning. A few silly giggles, her eyes falling closed, and she’d cuddled with the pillow. Too much alcohol was putting Lily under, and I knew this might be my only chance to get back to her bungalow. She was reluctant, she put up a fight, but now here she is, in my arms, soft and sweet and trusting, and I’m feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

I can’t believe I’m going through with this. I’ve had ample chances and blew every one of them on purpose. I told myself I couldn’t take it from her, not yet. My motives were purely selfish. Every single time I was with her, in this bungalow, when I had my chance … I told myself no. One more afternoon with Lily. One more night with Lily. One more kiss, one more time inside her body …