Author's Notes:

Initially, I was confident I wouldn't have a problem fulfilling my part, but as the days passed I wasn't quite sure I could go through with it. Now, I was desperate and running out of time. If I didn't pay up Maxon said I'd forfeit all of my goodnight kisses for two entire months! Oh, the fiend! But I couldn't have that! No way! I lived for my goodnight kisses! ~ America (from "His Due Reward")

Forfeiting Maxon's goodnight kisses? America was unwilling to consider such a thing! She lived for Maxon's wicked kisses. Read on to find out why!

This Bedtime Story was inspired by a simple image I saw online. Goes to show, you just never know where you might find your inspiration!

I'm dedicating this story to all you wonderful readers who've been reviewing and encouraging me to keep writing!

WARNING! For GRAPHIC sexual content. If this sort of material offends you, please go read something else. You have been WARNED! All others please continue on and...

I hope you enjoy!

~Sweetwaterspice

Maxon and America: Bedtime Stories

"Goodnight Kisses"

I am fascinated

by the shape of your lips

And how they fit

So perfectly

With the shape of mine

- Christy Ann Martine -

~ America

I sit propped against the headboard of my bed, my back cushioned by a mound of fluffy pillows. The lamps sitting on night tables on either side provide the only light in the otherwise darkened room.

I've just finished one more chapter of the latest romance novel that Marlee, my best friend insisted was a must read. "You won't be able to put it down!" And so far, she's right! The novel is full of all the things I love with plenty of angst and drama. I'm frustratingly awaiting that moment when the hero and heroine finally succumb and confess their feelings for each other! They've come ever so close and it's killing me! Why can't people just cut the shit and confess their love! How infuriating, really! I am completely riveted by this story but the hour is getting late.

Squeezing my tired eyes between my fingers, I stifle a small yawn as I debate reading one more chapter. I glance at the small clock on my night table. I blink twice.

It's late.

The hands tell me it's half past midnight. I cup a hand over my mouth as another sleepy yawn escapes. Sleep lurks around the corner threatening to collect the stubborn soul of me into its lulling, waiting arms. It's a battle of wills that I realize I'm soon to lose. I've fought it off long enough and set my open book on my lap.

I sigh with disappointment noting the space next to me is still neatly made, untouched and awaiting its occupant. I'm in bed alone, the sheets next to me cold and vacant.

Maxon still hasn't come up causing me to continue on with the battle, waiting patiently before sleep overtakes me. Although the novel has been a good companion it's no replacement for Maxon.

I hate falling asleep without him. I miss the comfort of his body holding me to his. The softness of his skin against my palms; the strong, muscular arms I love, wrapped protectively around me. The way his lips brush against me and kiss me tenderly. The words he composes just for my ears…words that make every part of me blush.

Even though Maxon has kept to his word of not bringing any work up to our bedroom which I am ever grateful for, long work nights such as these are just as difficult to deal with.

I know he's been busy with running things. There's always some new issue, some fire that suddenly springs up needing his immediate attention. I've gotten used to it. I've learned my husband has a million responsibilities and running a country is no small task. But sharing Maxon is still hard for me.

I do my part…you know, the supportive queen bit. The days I've relinquished to the world but the nights are mine. They belong to me. They are my sacred time alone with Maxon. My one on one, non-interrupted time and lately, the world has seemed fit to take even that away from me. The thought makes my brow crinkle.

Nah ah. Not happening.

Fair is only fair, right?

I place the ribbon bookmark between the pages of the novel resting on my lap, my hero and heroine's plight put on hold for now. Closing the book with a thud I set it on the night table. What is a girl supposed to do when she is in want of her mate? When she's got needs, desires, cravings that require a certain someone's magic touch? Not that my marriage is lacking in romance or sex. Good god, no! Maxon is more than a capable lover. And our bed certainly doesn't lack in the exercise department. I am smugly beaming with pride to think of the mileage we've put on this baby since we were married. Quite a bit. The thought makes me blush even more so as it fills me with images of the exact sort of naughty actions we've performed on this very bed.

Nevertheless, I miss my husband. I want my husband. And the fact that he's presently absent... Well, let's just say that sleeping is now the last item on this girl's agenda.

So with renewed determination and a dampness pooling between my thighs I fling off the sheets. I'm going to go claim what is mine. I need my husband as much as the nation needs him.

I'm on my way to Maxon's office. I know it's where he'll be most likely pouring over a desk full of papers…proposals, treaties, budgets… you name it. I know he's probably exhausted too but even a king needs a diversion, I think wickedly.

I pad down the silent hallways barefoot. I changed out of my short little night dress and into a pair of yoga pants and a matching long sleeved top. I'm braless, of course. No need to feel the restrictions of undergarments this late in the evening. With the lack of curious servants milling around at this hour I love the freeness of it all.

The door to Maxon's office is unguarded which is not surprising. I'm still not comfortable with the idea but it was ultimately Maxon's decision. Since the conflict with the rebels had cooled and most activity in the palace occurred in the light of day, Maxon didn't deem it a necessity to have a guard posted after hours. I suppose this was a change for the better after his father's death.

I bristle at the thought of his father. King Clarkson had been a poisonous viper. A living cancer within these walls. He didn't like me at all, not that I cared after finding out what he'd done to Maxon. I was the lowly Five who made herself more of an inconvenience than an asset when I caught his son's eye. Unworthy of his son's affections, I was told. In the end our love did conquer all– his father's hate, the rebels even that bitch, Kriss and I couldn't be happier knowing how happy I make Maxon.

Smiling at that thought, I catch the light shining under the door of his office as I approach. I turn the knob not bothering to knock and peek my head inside.

"Maxon?"

His head tilts up from the papers he's holding in front of him. He smiles at me as our eyes meet. "Hey, sweetheart," he greets me as I step inside, the ember in my chest spreading warmth through my body at his welcoming tone. I close the door quietly behind me.

He's halfway standing and I tell him to sit. "No, don't get up. I just came to see how you were doing?"

"Did you bring coffee?" He grins. His tie has been gone it seems for quite some time. His collar, undone.

"No coffee." I show him my empty hands. "I'm sorry. Would you like me to ring for some?" I offer.

He gives me a tired smile. "Nah. I need to cut back anyway," he says, sinking back into his leather chair, his body sagging. He runs a hand through his hair and as he looks up to the ceiing, let's out a heavy sigh. He looks weary and suddenly the urge to get him out of this office is stronger than my own selfish reasons.

"That good, huh?" I ask wryly, hoping to lighten his burden if only for a mere second. I'm closing the distance between us, my toes sinking into the very plush, very expensive Persian carpet. I welcome the warmth it gives my cold feet.

Maxon's office which I've nicknamed "The War Room" is massive.

It's a masculine room. Power seems to radiate off the rich, dark wood adorning the walls. An entire wall is dedicated to so many books the shelves reach the ceiling. There's a boardroom table surrounded by a dozen chairs. A fine Italian leather couch that we've put to good use on several occasions sits on one side of the room. The sturdy mohoghany desk he sits behind anchors the room. I remember being splayed against the flat surface of this very desk, Maxon buried deep inside of me while I drowned in the blissful pleasure of my husband's demanding thrusts as he took me. I run my fingers along the edge of his desk as if it too shared the memory.

The drapes are unfortunately drawn closed over the large windows that overlook the south lawn. It's a gorgeous view during the day and a stunning one of the starry skies in the evening. I'm sure distractions are the last thing he needs right now. But, I'm a worthwhile distraction, I smile inwardly. Besides, I convince myself once again, he looks like he could use a nice distraction. 'You're only doing your part in support of your country,' I muse.

"Just tedious work as usual," he says with a tired smile swiveling his chair to face me. I understand the lot on his plate for sure. Running an entire country, so many decisions to make, so many deals to broker, so many lives that can be affected by just a signature on a piece of paper. Yes, I feel all his anxiety even when he tries his best to mask it, like he is right now.

I lean over, cup his face between my hands and press a soft kiss on his lips and he moans in response, settling his hands on my hips.

"That was nice."

"You looked like you needed one."

"You always seem to know what I need when I need it," he says, his eyes sparking. He pulls me closer. I'm standing between his legs now and his fingers curve around my backside. He rakes his eyes over my body without a hint of shame.

"It's called being your wife," I smile attempting to divert the wanton sensations of my pussy.

He chuckles. "And I'm damn lucky to have you as mine."

"I agree."

His eyes crinkle at the corners and he chuckles in dark amusement, the baritone rumble of it sends delicious tingles down my spine...and a wave of heat between my thighs.

"What're you doing up so late, hmmm?" He asks, his voice husky. His nostrils flare and I'm certain he can scent me but he says nothing. Tease.

"I couldn't sleep. But, my question is how much longer will you be?" I step out of his hold on my ass which isn't tight hoping to hide the evidence of my arousal. I snake a hand over the hard muscles of his shoulder as I move to stand behind him. Maxon groans once I begin massaging the span between his neck and shoulders.

"God, you're so tense!" I exclaim, the coiled muscles beneath my hand begging for relief.

His only replies are a string of moans and damn him if they aren't the sexiest of moans. And wicked thoughts spring as I imagine how many other variations I could make him utter with other parts of me.

I slide both arms around his shoulders, leaning in so my hands fan over, caressing the broad field of his hard chest. He feels amazing. I turn my nose into his neck and inhale his scent. His body shivers at my touch which excites my own in return.

Pressing an enticing kiss at the shell of his ear, I whisper, "I miss you," as I pluck open a button on his dress shirt. I trace the curve of his ear with the tip of my tongue and hear the groan of leather when he tightens his grip on the arms of his executive chair. I smile, nipping his earlobe. He releases a shaky breath. I love the effect I have on him!

"Babe… I've got a boat load to get done and you know if I come to bed there's no way in hell I'm coming back tonight. And trust me," he tells me, spinning his chair slowly about to face me once again, "there's no place I'd rather be than snug tight between your beautiful legs." He runs his hands down the curves of my hips, my outer thighs, grabbing the backs of my knees, making my feet shuffle until they meet the edge of his leather chair. "Of course, there's always my desk."

Did the man have no sense of mercy?! His words light my core on fire and my nipples instantly strain beneath my thin top. He notices their puckered reaction, and brushes the back of a hand over a very pebbled and highly sensitive nipple. "What do you say?" He asks with that panty dropping grin. I bite down hard on my bottom lip biting back a groan which makes him chuckle knowingly.

Fuck. His arrogance only proves to turn me on further as those rich pools of chocolate eyes begin undressing me.

Goodness gracious! The man could have me stripped naked and bent over his desk in two breaths! God, I'm hopeless. I clear my throat, snapping to. "Tempting but..."

"How about…" he says as he stands, "a goodnight kiss instead?"

I huff, incredulous, looking up at him. "A what?! Does it look like a kiss is what I …"

But he cuts me off before I'm finished. "I'm quite sure it is, sweetheart. Don't you trust me?"

"Err...yes... But that's not exactly what I wanted or what I thought we both had in mind!"

I'm so besides myself I don't even notice that he's taken hold of my hand and we've moved a few steps; that Maxon's leading me over to the couch by the hand.

"Sit," he gestures at the couch. I hesitate. "Please."

I arch a brow but obey melting at the way he's smiling at me. Cocky as hell.

The usual cold leather of the mocha couch looks softer, bathed in the buttery hue of the lamp light. It looks cozy. Inviting. It gives as we take our places side by side.

We shift as we face each other but Maxon doesn't speak. His gaze burrows into mine. He doesn't look tired any longer. Instead, a predator is staring back at me. I swallow the giant knot in my throat suddenly feeling trapped, unable to breathe, unable to move. My heart is pounding something fierce and my chest heaves as I desperately suck in my next breath. Maxon's sharp eyes zero in on my physical reactions and that smile crooks to one side. Maybe kissing me to an orgasm was Maxon's plan, however, it didn't mean kissing was all I had agreed to do! I conspire, defiantly, grasping for whatever remaining thread I have left of my senses!

The back of his hand sweeps tenderly across my cheek, slips into my hair. He releases the clip holding my locks. My hair tumbles down, freed. "Better," he says tossing the clip over his shoulder. Maxon's hand returns to my loosed hair threading through the strands, down until his fingertips play with the very ends, rubbing their softens between the pads. "I love your hair like this, do you know that?" I'm at once assaulted by goose flesh and feel my nipples tighten painfully, begging for his touch and his wet mouth. His eyes are so intense as he looks at me, as if he's examining me for the first time, figuring out what to do with me. Where to take his first bite and I've never felt so naked while still wearing clothes.

Our eyes lock. He leans in. I lean in. And when his lips touch mine, so softly they barely brush it's fire to tinder. A slow, smoldering fire as he controls the pace of the kiss. He kisses the corners of my mouth. My top and bottom lip pulling the latter gently with his teeth.

My senses are alert and achingly so. I want to scream!

I'm shivering from the crown of my head to the tips of my bare toes as he brushes his tongue across the seam of my lips and my mouth opens slowly to his in greeting.

His kiss is sensual, unhurried.

My heart is a fierce, thunder clap in my chest.

It feels as if time has frozen and there is nothing outside of these walls, this couch, this kiss.

Our lips press and pull apart. Our tongues are at play, teasing, luring, beckoning. He's kissing me so painfully slow my mind is solely focused on his tongue sweeping over mine. He's keeping me off-balance and it's working. He pulls the bottom of my lip between his teeth once again. Sets it free. If that doesn't send a lightning bolt straight to my clit! I greedily want more feeling myself leaning further into Maxon as I deepen the kiss, clutching at the material of his shirt as if my survival depended on it.

This goodnight kiss is going to be the death of me or worse, drive me absolutely insane! Because I'm but a mere second from winding up on his lap and giving him his own personal lap dance. Yet, somehow I'm still on the couch completely wrapped up in Maxon's kiss. Damn, he knows what he's doing and because he does, a torrent soaks my pants when his lips wrap around my tongue sucking it softly at the same time his thumb finds my nipple. If I weren't already flushed I'd blush at the recollection that I wasn't wearing any panties.

He obliges me by deepening the kiss more but only for a few seconds longer before pulling away, leaving me gasping with need.

"Maxon…" His name a breathless whisper, a plea written on my face. He smiles and damn him for realizing how much control he has.

"Shhh... I know, darling." He strokes my nipple in delicious circles. "Let me take care of you."

'Yes...please...' I pray silently because god, I'm soaked. And throbbing!

He gently turns me to face away from him, his warm, masculine hands running the length of my arms, soothing the goosebumps under my shirt.

Then those incredible hands begin massaging me the way I had done to him and I can't hold in my own moans of delight as my head falls to one side then the other.

"That feels sooo good…" I hear myself blissfully moan.

He scoots closer behind me, his lips teasing my neck, laying sweet kisses along the span of exposed skin. I breathe in shaky breaths and I am unsure of how much more of this torture I am willing or capable of enduring!

But Maxon isn't giving up an inch of control. None.

My body is a torch lit by the touch of his hands, his mouth. I lean back into his chest, needing more contact. Maxon slips his hands underneath my arms and brings them around to cup both of my breasts. I push into his hands, my body urgently needing his touch. He starts teasing me then, the center of his palms circling both my nipples over my top. I voice my pleasure but I am simultaneously losing my mind! He fondles my little rocks as his breathing and intermittent kisses play at my ear.

"Maxon…" my voice sounds strangled.

"What is it, baby?"

"Pleeease… pleeease." I'm begging now and I don't care how weak or shameless or desperate I sound. All I know is that I need him to quiet this tempest in my core... this wild fire he's lit blazing inside of me.

I turn my head over my shoulder and his mouth is right there and couples mine. Fully. He holds nothing back as I consume him. Maxon growls as I eagerly push for him to give into me; to give me what I want; what I'm desperate for. Reaching for the back of his head to keep him where he is. But he catches my hand and masters himself all too quick. Breaks the kiss.

"Naughty girl," he murmurs. "So impatient."

I blush feeling my pussy pulsating.

Then my top disappears. Just like that.

He resumes his caresses– my swollen breasts, soft in his hands.

"These are so damn perfect," he says at my ear.

I feel pride bloom at his words. His hands are gentle, fondling me, twirling my peaked buds between his fingers. He pinches them, not too hard but enough that my body surges with pleasure. And yes, my clit jumps with a thrill. I clench my thighs together to soothe myself but doing that only reminds me of how empty I feel. That emptiness heightens my awareness. I need to feel Maxon sinking into me, stretching me and completely filling my void.

Maxon drops kisses on the curvature of my bare shoulder; my upper back. I fight not to quiver. He's laying kisses down every notch of my spine now. Running his tongue up the groove.

I'm a complete and utter mess.

I'm helpless against him, my body under the spell he's skilfully cast over me.

And I'm speechless because my mind has gone numb with pleasure.

Because Maxon is on his knees.

"Ready for your goodnight kiss?"

"What…?" My fogged brain replies. I'm absolutely baffled. He shifts my hips, facing them forward.

Maxon's grin is crooked. A devil's grin, I note.

"Hips. Up."

I lift them without question, seeing the satisfied, predatory glint in his eyes at my lack of any underwear as he peels my pants down over my hips. And the more gratifying smile that comes along at the obvious evidence of how aroused he's made me when he sees the damp spot on the seat of my yoga pants. I feel heat cover my face and ignite my core at the same time.

I lean against the back of the couch at his direction. Maxon takes hold of my hips. Brings my bottom to the edge of the couch. He gently pulls my legs apart. And shamelessly gazes at the most intimate part of me. His eyes meet mine. Those dark, predatory eyes bore into me once again. Lock me in place.

"You didn't answer me."

What was the question? Did he ask me a question?

I can't remember and I feel the heat of embarrassment flush my cheeks. Maxon's mouth tugs into a smile. He doesn't wait for me to answer because my fate is already sealed. I swallow. This is going to happen. Whether I'm ready or not, he's left that up to me.

Maxon's torso is wedged between my legs. And I'm so lost the second his lips make contact with my mouth…my throat…my breasts, his tongue idly circling a beaded nipple, sucking, biting softly. One... then the other. He kisses down my body… every centimeter; each kiss a brand on my hot skin. He dips his tongue into my navel. I gasp and my head sinks back into the soft leather of the couch. My body thrums with life, my breasts ache and I can't ignore the hunger biting between my legs where he's now headed. His hands are wrapped around my slender thighs, teasing the sensitive skin of my inner thighs with his thumbs. My hips move to encourage those fingers closer to that sweet spot begging for his attention.

I'm trembling with anticipation. I'm swollen and aching for some action.

I hear myself groan when a finger, his index finger skims the line of my womanhood coating it with my dewy offering. I have to bite down on one of my own fingers to keep from shouting.

"You're so beautiful," I hear Maxon say.

My heart booms nearly leaving me breathless. My fingers struggle to find anything to grab on to. I curl them around the leather edge of the seat cushion.

He runs that finger over me again and again. My fingers tighten around the soft leather. I watch as his lips part, those brown eyes glued on that finger teasing my moist flesh. He raises that finger glistening with my arousal to his mouth; sucks it off...shit... and comes back with a second…his middle as he forks my pussy, pressing my inner folds together up to my sensitive hood. He pinches my clit between those two wicked fingers and gently tugs and I cry in approval.

Maxon grins at my reaction. "Give me more, baby. I want to hear you."

My body responds without a moment's hesitation and I mew like a cat in heat!

"That's it. God...look at you."

I can only imagine what I must look like.

I feel wanton and reckless as I round my hips praying for Maxon's thick fingers to put me out of my misery but...

He doesn't penetrate me. He plays with me… teases me... the pad of his index finger torturously rubbing my clit in delectable, swirling motions. He spreads my inner folds with a couple of fingers and blows a sweeping breath over me that's nearly my undoing!

One of my feet is lifted off the floor, held in his masculine hand as he brings it to his lips, branding the arch with tender kisses. Maxon's lips continue scorching a path from the inside of my ankle up my calf...up...up to my inner thigh, sucking the crux. He gives the other equal attention and I'm trying my best to hold on without falling off the couch!

He props the foot in his hand over his shoulder. Hooks a hand behind the knee of the opposite leg. Pushes it up.

And lowers his head.

"Ohhhh!" My eyes flare open.

The initial contact is glorious!

The tip of his tongue licks my center and I pitch forward. I can't help but watch the crown of his head move as he's feasting on me... eating me. Watching that head of short blonde hair between my legs bobbing and swaying raises my beating pulse and makes my clit throb. I sink a hand, my right, into his hair.

I moan as his full tongue at times gentle, at others rough, moves over me, between my folds. And I'm mesmerized seeing how his lips suckle my nether lips, how he pulls on them and how his tongue curves and traces and sweeps against my soft flesh to pleasure me. My head falls back, a smile etched on my face, eyes glued on our shadows, a joined mass of black dancing on the ceiling up above. His tongue knows me so well… knows what I live for...

My clit.

And Maxon has mastered the art of clit play.

I love it when his nose brushes my clit.

I grab his hair when he flicks and bats it with his tongue.

When he draws it and sucks it between his lips it makes me croon.

And when he bites it…I nearly come!

His large hands slip between my legs now to cradle my bottom and he lifts me up bringing me to his mouth like a tasty meal on a platter. He's feasting on me as he in turn stares at me; daring me to watch him claiming what belongs to him. So fucking wicked.

He is so hot. I can hardly believe he's all mine!

Maxon bears down on me unexpectedly, holding me in place, pushing against my knees to open me up further to him.

My heels dig into the edge of the couch. Both of my hands are full of his hair, clutching, as he spears me with his tongue, fucking me with it. But when he replaces it with two fingers, filling me up to his knuckles, slowly finger-fucking me while sucking on my clit...

Good god!

I feel my walls instantly contract and spasm violently. I'm panting like a bitch, my orgasm banging at the door. My eyes roll to the back of my head. My mouth gapes open in a silent scream.

Maxon groans against me making me feel the rumbling of his mouth through my core, his fingers spearing me and a shameless "UHHHH!," and "FUCK, YES!" rips from my throat in response. I buck against his mouth. He pushes my ass back unto the seat of the couch with full authority. He is in command and let's me know it which completely unravels me, feeling his power, his control against mine. He growls this time and the vibrations ripple through me and yes, YEEES! Are enough to break my dam!

I cry out not caring who hears it. His mouth is flushed tightly against me as I fall to pieces in his mouth.

"Mmmm! Mmmm!" He growls, against me. His need hungrier. His kiss insistent, demanding. Fingertips dig into my hips, harder, his silent command telling me to pour out my soul, to give him everything!

Because he wants it.

All of it.

And I do.

My legs are shaking so badly I can barely control them. I squeeze my eyes tight, lightning flashing behind my closed lids as another orgasm claims me! And this time when I cry out, it's his name on my lips. And his name on my heart.

The thing I love about Maxon is that he isn't a one beat drummer. The way he changes the flow and rhythm of our love making keeps this girl and her pussy always thrilled in anticipation of what's in store.

In other words he is not a bore whatsoever. And this proves my point as he unexpectedly presses his thumb on my clit and I come again all over his mouth.

As tranquility spreads through me, my boneless, pliant body sinks into the couch. I feel sated, relaxed and suddenly spent. I watch Maxon surface from between my thighs, his lips glistening with me. And he sweeps his tongue over his mouth and sucks his lips.

Damn. If that isn't the sexiest thing.

"Don't do that," I warn him. I know he's just run a trifecta on my ass but it didn't mean I couldn't ride him to a fourth orgasm.

He wiggles his eyebrows and offers only a chuckle in response. He takes a seat beside me and I cuddle against his chest. He reaches for the afghan on the arm of the couch and drapes it over me. I sigh contended feeling his arm around me and the comforting warmth of his clothed body against my nakedness.

"Watching you fall apart...god...it never gets old," he confesses, his mouth against my forehead is such an endearing, comforting gesture after the heat of passion.

I bite my lower lip to stave off the blush heating my cheeks.

Lifting my eyes once I feel brave enough to do so, I ask, "Why didn't you tell me that's what you meant by a goodnight kiss?"

"What? And ruin my surprise?"

I sit up, my eyes wide in shock. "You planned this all along?"

He shrugs. "Maybe."

"You scoundrel!" I shove his shoulder. Maxon tips his head back and his laughter roars.

Afterwards he adds with a telling grin, "I am your scoundrel or rake whichever you'd like me to be."

He nuzzles my neck as he palms one of my breasts. Damn. The way he touches me makes my body sizzle even though I've just climaxed...three times!

"Both."

"Greedy."

It's my turn to laugh, settling against him once again and he wraps both arms around me this time. I stifle a yawn, suddenly feeling dreadfully tired. Sleep wishes to claim me but I fight it and ask against his neck, "But...what about you?" I know he hasn't had relief and I hate leaving him like that. I mean, he went above and beyond his call. That goodnight kiss was unreal. He could've done what I think most guys would've done and dove in straight for a quickie. But my Maxon isn't most guys. He's always making sure I'm well taken care of... because as he often tells me, I'm 'his queen'.

He kisses the top of my head.

"Don't worry."

"But..."

"I'm always happy to oblige my queen."

"With more goodnight kisses?"

I feel him smile against my head.

"Sweet dreams, America."

Sweet dreams indeed.

"I want to kiss you

Good morning between your legs

And taste your dreams of us."

- Victor Hugo Mota -

~ Maxon

As I carry my darling America to bed I can still taste her on my lips.

Damn. Watching her pretty little face twist with pain and pleasure at my hands almost pushed me over the edge tonight.

This woman is my fucking muse.

And my goodnight kisses are my latest song written indelibly on her lips. A song she will never forget. A song I've composed only for her. And one I'll gladly sing for her with my lips between her legs.

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