Disclaimer: Dark Angel is not mine. It belongs to Cameron/Eglee. Don't sue.

A/N: This material is rated M. Those not interested or ineligible, skip this. There's really no relevant plot content until next chapter. Please definitely read and review because this is only my second fic ever (after 301 Till the Fat Lady Sings), and definitely my first M-rated chapter. God help me, this was the hardest thing to write. LOL. Thanks to all for your patience.

CHAPTER 7:

"I looked at him and felt nothing else…When a passion like this gets hold of you, it never lets you go, never till your last breath. It burns all in you, and still flames, when there is nothing more to burn..."

–Ayn Rand, The Husband I Bought-

"Make me burn, Alec,"

Max's words tore at the remnants of Alec's control and reason. He growled, letting his passion take over. With one hand he pinned both her hands above her head, and devoured her mouth with his. His other hand came up and began to caress her breast.

Max moaned in pleasure, a sound that drove Alec on. He pressed his arousal against her, through their clothes, moving in a way that mimicked exactly what he was going to do to her.

"Please," she begged hoarsely against his mouth. With her hands trapped over her head, her body pinned against the wall by his, she was completely at his mercy, to be bent to his will. It aroused Max to a point where she began to whimper in need.

"Tell me what you want, Max, and it's yours," he said, his voice coming out low and husky. His blood was racing with desire and need, and yes, love. He wanted to give her everything. His mind was telling him that this was his chance to finally make her his—to leave his imprint in the most physical way possible—one she would never forget.

"Touch me," she moaned. Satisfaction raced through him, he loved that he could do this to her, make her moan with pleasure. He tore his mouth away from hers, but only long enough to yank her shirt ruthlessly over her head. He groaned at the sight of her smooth beautiful bronzed skin bared to him. "Beautiful," he murmured, before he resumed kissing her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, letting his lips and tongue savor the taste of her. He had always wondered what she would feel like underneath her shirt…now he knew: soft, smooth, silky, utterly perfect. Better than he had ever imagined.

His free hand moved to take her bra away, swiftly and expertly, he unclasped it, letting it slip through her imprisoned arms, affording him access to her breasts. He groaned, almost in agony. She was so perfect. He cupped her breasts, hot and heavy in his hand, and began to knead them gently. He lowered his head and ran his tongue along the underside of her breast, tasting her salty sweetness. He heard her pleasurable, "Oh…", and smiled in satisfaction. He blew lightly on a nipple, before rolling his tongue leisurely over it. "Touch you like this, Max?" he coaxed.

"Alec," she cried, her voice breathless. "I'm warning you…"

He drew back and kissed her lips, "Or what?" he asked.

She smiled languorously at him, her eyes hazy with passion. "Or I'll make you suffer as much as I am right now,"

"Mmm…" he said against her neck, nuzzling her. Inhaling the scent that was purely Max. The scent that he would recognize anywhere. The scent of his chosen mate.

He continued to tug and knead her breast, rolling her nipples between his fingers. "Alec," she whispered, her voice husky with desire. "Let me,"

As his kisses traveled down her throat to the valley between her breasts, his other hand finally released her bruised wrists. He took the other breast into his mouth, suckling her, sending shots of pleasure through Max. She arched her back from the wall, offering herself more.

"You taste so good," he said softly, continuing to lavish his attentions on her breasts.

Max was desperate now, tortured, agonized by the pleasure he was giving her. She frantically pulled at him, pushing him away just long enough to slip off his jacket and tear his shirt off.

Her eyes darkened even more with desire. He was beautiful. She had seen him bare-chested before, but never with the knowledge that he was hers to touch and explore. She ran her hand possessively over his taut flesh, feeling his muscles tighten at her touch. He was broad-shouldered and lean-muscled, he looked very good. But he felt even better beneath her touch…smooth and hard.

They were standing an arm's length away, only her hand on his chest. She looked into his eyes and saw a passion in there that almost sent her to her knees. Tentatively, she slid her arms around his neck and kissed him, crushing her soft breasts against his hard chest.

Oh, God, perfect. she thought, just perfect. His heat against hers was enough to send them both bursting into flame. Alec was no longer luxuriously teasing her; he was tugging at her hair, his hands tangled in them, the small sensations of pain just driving her passion to higher heights. Then Alec slid his leg between hers, pushing his thigh against that sensitive juncture, bringing heated friction, and all coherent thoughts left Max. All that was left was feeling, pure exquisite feeling…and she wanted…"More," she begged.

Her plea made Alec throw all caution to the wind. The smell that was permeating from her skin was driving him mad—aroused female—but not just any female, but Max. Mine.

With a growl that was all too primitive, he started tugging at her pants. Impatient, he ripped the button off her jeans, tearing the zipper. "Now," he growled.

They never made it to his bed, they fell somewhere along the way to it.

"Alec," she breathed his name, as he started to slide her jeans off her legs. She heard the rustling of clothes and saw his jeans fly across the room as he tossed them away. Then he was on her again, kissing, licking, nipping, and biting. Tasting her until it was almost too much to bear. She felt his hand travel down her flat stomach, then resting over her mound. His fingers pushed aside her underwear, his thumb expertly finding the secret nub that gave her so much pleasure. Her head fell back in bliss.

Alec felt like a man with a feast in front of him. She was warm, vibrant, wanton, and she was his. He trailed kisses down her body, until he reached his destination. He let his tongue dance wickedly over her throbbing nub; felt her buck under him in pleasure. His tongue continued its work even as he slipped a finger inside her wet warmth.

Oh, God. She was so tight…so warm…so ready. His body was screaming for release. But he didn't give in to it. Not yet. This was Max, and he was going to fight for every bit of pleasure he could give her.

He slipped another long finger into her, and began a rhythm that drove Max wild. Her breaths were coming out as little gasps, her hands tangled wildly in his hair. She cried out his name, as he drove his fingers into her until she almost climaxed.

Almost.

Because a selfish part of him wanted to be inside of her the first time it happened. He just had to have her. He had wanted it for so long, wanted her to scream his name, wanted to feel her shudder beneath him, wanted to— Hell, he just wanted her in that way. And if it meant that he was going to lose all control, then so be it.

Hands shaking, he tore away her underwear, and ruthlessly pushed his own boxers down.

"Alec?" she whispered. Her eyes had been closed in ecstasy, but now they were open. She looked down at him, her eyes widening. He couldn't help but smirk. He was after all genetically enhanced. Then her brown eyes locked with his. And his smirk left his face as he was engulfed with need.

"My God, Max, I think I need you," he groaned. "I need you now."

He positioned himself over her, the tip of his shaft just barely touching her entrance. But then Max froze.

Oh God, don't stop now, he thought desperately. But of course, he stopped. "Max?" he asked, the effort of holding back causing him to shake with tension.

"I've never done this before," she admitted, her eyes looking deeply into his.

Alec frowned slightly, not understanding. She cupped his face in her hands. "I mean, that I've never done this before with anyone else…without being in heat."

Alec felt a deep primal sense of satisfaction at being her first. Heat never counted because it barely constituted a decision. This moment had been her choice. He leaned down and captured her lips in a kiss. "I've never done this before either," he confessed, his voice rough with emotion. "I've never made love with anyone before."

He saw the passion flare in Max's eyes at his confession, and that was all the permission he needed. He fastened his mouth over hers with primal greed. And she responded in kind. He plunged into her.

Mine.

He had wanted to go slowly to savor the pleasure of finally having her. But all thoughts were swept away by a more primitive—almost animalistic—urge. He drove into her forcefully, again and again, heard her gasp his name, felt her arch to accommodate him. He couldn't stop. He groaned hoarsely, whispering her name repeatedly with each stroke. He was losing control and it had never felt so good.

"Max…I can't wait…" he gasped. But he didn't have to wait. They were both already so aroused that she started to shudder with the force of her climax. She sobbed his name out loud. Her nails dug into his back, the slight pain only urging him towards his own peak. He cried her name, and bit her shoulder, as his body jerked in rhythmic spasms, pouring his seed into her.

Alec gathered her into his arms, bracing his weight slightly on his elbow, not wanting to crush her. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, licking the small wound he had given her—marked her with—in his passion. He was still stunned at what had just happened. He had always prided himself in staying in control, but apparently, he had no pride left when it came to Max.

He who had slept with countless women had just been humbled by this experience. Because it had never been like this. All those other times had been his body. This had been his heart and soul.

"Nothing is less in our power than the heart, and far from commanding we are forced to obey it."

-Jean Jacques Rousseau-