His lips grazed over her hot flesh, her toes curling and fists clenching onto white satin sheets. Desire ran hot through her veins. With his skin against hers, she was on fire.
Her body hummed with pleasure as his hand fluttered down her side, lips feasting on her nipples, awakening a place inside of her that she thought died long ago. Fingers sought the aching place between her legs, diving in, relishing in how wet she was for him. He'd missed this. He'd missed her.
Her sultry, pink lips formed a perfect 'O' as she felt his thick, strong fingers move inside of her, beckoning her to the brink of insanity.
Tearing his mouth away from her perfect chest, he dipped lower, fully intending to take her in his mouth and taste her. To feel her come undone all around him, allowing the waves of pleasure to crash against her full force, slowly eroding the wall around her heart.
He was determined. She would love him again. He needed her to love him again.
She had forgotten how alive he could make her feel. She had forgotten how skilled his mouth and fingers were at driving her mad from ecstasy. But as hard as she tried to forget, she always remembered the promise in his cobalt blue eyes, dark with arousal, every time they were together like this.
It hadn't been there two years ago, and it terrified her that it was now. She had been the aggressor. Not him. Never him.
Lucky loved Elizabeth. Forever and always. Blah, blah, fucking blah! Maxie was so tired of that old shit.
One more time and she swore she'd reply, "Yeah, but does he fuck her like he does me?"
That would get their attention.
And now here they were. A few years older, not a lot wiser, and damaged beyond comparison.
Emily was gone. Georgie was gone. Yet somehow they were both still breathing.
Gasping as his mouth devoured her core and his rough hands kneaded her tender breasts, thumbs flicking over her swollen nipples, Maxie remembered the newest people they had betrayed: Sam and Spinelli. They would be devastated by this. Both of her best friends would hate her for being with this man.
But he was Lucky.
Blame her all you want, but when had Maxie ever turned down the opportunity to destroy everything and everyone around her for a simple taste of him?
Her gasps became frantic, pushing thoughts of anyone else from her mind. Lucky smirked as he came up her body, slowly, grinding against her, seeing how ready she was for him, wanting her more in that moment than any other addiction.
No one else had ever made him feel like Maxie Jones did. He was her hero. He was perfect in her cynical eyes. Or at least, he had been.
Sure that he wouldn't regret it in the morning, wondering if she would, and knowing that it was too late to stop now, Lucky kissed her passionately. Her legs spread wider as he settled between them, aching for him to be inside of her.
Hooking an arm under each of her knees, he buried himself in her with a low groan, eyes shuttering closed at the pleasure of it, feeling free and alive. Her hand came up, pressing him closer into her mouth, desperately massaging his tongue with her own.
It was worth it. Whatever backlash they would endure, it was so worth it.
Thrusting against him, fingernails digging in his golden skin, Maxie drug her mouth away from his. Tossing her head back, eyes clenched shut in jaded ecstasy.
No one was like Lucky. No one built her up just to tear her down like he did.
Tomorrow…she'd feel guilty tomorrow. Tomorrow when he went back to Sam and his crazy little sister, and she went back to sitting vigil at Spinelli's bedside, that's when she'd care.
Right now with Lucky buried deep inside of her, on the brink of an explosive orgasm, all she cared about was Lucky and the pounding of her own heart.
With a final thrust, Lucky let it all go, and they both rode the waves of pleasure over the edge of insanity.
Collapsing on top of her, Lucky rested his head in the valley between her breasts, panting raggedly. Maxie's hand came up to gently brush through his sweaty, chestnut locks as his deep cobalt eyes closed in contentment and a peace came over them.
"Hey, Lucky?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you a habit I'm ever going to be able to break?"
"God, I hope not."
Set during Lulu's breakdown and while Spinelli was in the hospital after being hit by the car.
I always carried a torch for Lucky and Maxie all broken together, but unlike the Guza-monster did them. That could've been played so much better. Review!