New Update! Again, from Maxon's POV. I have found it much easier to write in Maxon's voice, so unless I say otherwise, just assume that he's the narrator! Thank you guys SO much for the reviews, they make me so happy :)

Without further ado, part 3!

I woke with a start from my deep sleep with a loud gasp and looked at the clock. 4:36am. I had been dreaming that I was underwater and couldn't come back up for air. I shook off the thought and remembered my surroundings. I looked down at America, nestled tightly in my arms, my chest on her bandaged back, sleeping peacefully. She looked so absolutely beautiful, despite everything that had happened in the last 12 hours. But as I pulled away to adjust my arms under her, there was a slippery sticking noise. I looked down to see that she had been bleeding through the bandage, and onto my chest. I mentally scolded myself for not doing a better job of bandaging America, of taking care of her, and reluctantly woke her so I could change the dressing on her cuts.

"Ames, darling," I whispered, nudging her shoulder softly. "Please, wake up, my love."

She woke quickly, sitting up with her eyes wide and suddenly out of breath. She must have been having a bad dream, too. As she rolled over to face me, she must have twisted her back in a strange way, because she yelped a little and collapsed back onto the bed facedown and began to cry.

I stroked her hair slowly realized that she must be so disoriented right now; it was the middle of the night, she was in pain, she just woke up from a nightmare.

"Shh, darling, I have to change your bandages, I'm sorry for not doing a good enough job before with them—"

"It's ok," America whispered. "Thank you for being so kind to me."

I leaned down and kissed her cheek slowly, feeling her blush under my touch. I then began to slowly lift her—well, my—shirt up over her arms, but left it hanging around her neck so it would be easier for her to put it back on later. However, under her shirt she was wearing nothing, that is except for the bandages that I had covered her with. They wrapped completely around her torso, which was now completely uncovered, I guess she had taken her bra off when I left her alone to change.

"Um, America? I'm going to need to reach around to your front to take off these bandages, so I'm sorry if I accidentally touch, well, you know..."

"Would it be easier if I sat up?"

"I mean, I—I guess so, but if you don't want me to see you—I mean—"

"Maxon, I really wouldn't mind if it'll make this easier for you."

I really didn't want to make America feel uncomfortable, and even though her words sounded convincing, her voice sounded a bit unsure. She slowly sat up with her back to me, and her arms wrapped tightly around her chest. I sat behind her, cross-legged. I took a deep breath and peeled the bandages off of her.

As I reached around her front, my stupid shaky hands grazed hers that were covering her chest.

"I'm sorry I wasn't trying to—I didn't mean to—"

America looked over her shoulder at me with blush. "It's ok, I didn't really mind."

Here I was, sitting with America on my bed, saying she didn't mind that I'd just (accidentally) touched her chest! Not to mention I was practically head over heels for her. But there were more important matters at hand.

I finished taking off America's soiled bandages and replaced them with new ones, making sure this time that they were on tight enough to last for at least a few more hours. By the time I had finished, America's arms had relaxed a bit around her chest and she began to lean back into me, dozing off. Her shirt was still loosely around her neck, she was too tired too take it off. But before she could lean too far back into me, I remembered that I was still bloody from her bandages leaking through onto my chest. I slowly got up and made sure America was leaning back against pillows that were propped up against the headboard of the bed.

"Where are you going?" She mumbled sleepily.

"Just to clean myself up quickly, I'll be right back darling."

I walked into my dark bathroom and wet a washcloth and quickly wiped myself down. I could take a better shower in the morning, but for now, all I wanted to do was be in bed, sleeping next to my America.

She however, had some different ideas.

When I walked out, America had completely woken up and was sitting up on the edge of the bed, legs dangling over the side. Her head was still through her t-shirt, but her arms were not through the arm-holes, but by her side, so the fabric made a lazy "u", just barely covering her chest. She was looking at me with a sultry grin.

"Ames...what are you doing?"
She looked up at me through her thick eyelashes. "I am so grateful for everything you've done for me tonight, and I wanted to find a way to thank you." When I looked at her with a questioning stare, she whispered, "Just come lay down on the bed with me."

I had no idea what tricks she had up her sleeve—or rather lack of sleeves—but I decided to follow along to see just how far she would take this.

I laid down on my back right where I had been before I woke up and America crawled up over me, straddling my waist. I averted my eyes, feeling that it was inappropriate to be doing this considering everything else that had happened tonight. She took my hands and placed them on her hips, then leaned down to kiss me.

I closed my eyes and suddenly registered what was happening. She was kissing me! An almost topless girl was kissing me! This was practically every man's dream! How could I have been so lucky? But still, something about this felt all wrong. But before I could do anything about it, America pushed her body flush against mine, and our bare chests were pressed together.

And man, did THAT feel good.

Focus Maxon. This shouldn't be happening, at least, not right now.

I was uncomfortable being this intimate with her when she had experienced a completely traumatic experience not seven hours ago. We were moving too quickly. I wanted to put a stop to this, but not hurt her feelings.

Without breaking our kiss, I slowly sat up, my legs outstretched, with America sitting on my lap, her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms wrapped around my shoulders with the tips of her fingers playing with the hair on my neck. My arms were still resting on her hips, but at this point I slowly dragged them up her sides, avoiding her fragile back. As my hands brushed past the sides of her chest, she arched herself into me, wanting me to feel her, but I restrained and put my hands on her shoulders, breaking away from the kiss but leaving my mouth just millimeters from hers, our noses touching.

"Let's slow this down a little," I breathed out. We were both out of breath from the pure desire coursing through our veins.

America looked dejected and lowered her arms from my shoulders, breaking eye contact with me.

"Do you not want to be with me?" she whispered, barely audible. She looked absolutely humiliated.

"Of course I want to be with you," I assured her, pulling the hem of her shirt down. She slid her arms through the sleeves, our foreheads still resting on each other's. "Just one step at a time, that's all."

"But why? Don't all men want to see...well, what I just tried to do?"

"Maybe other men do," I gave her a delicate kiss and her arms came back up to my shoulders, my hands settling on her hips. "But I don't want to be like other men for you. I'm not sure how your last boyfriend treated you, but I want to be different. I obviously haven't had many romantic experiences before, and I want to take my time, savor the feelings. Can you help me do that?"

Our faces were still just centimeters apart, and the heat radiating off of her was driving me crazy. I really didn't want her to feel bad about herself, it was me who wasn't ready for that level of intensity. But that didn't mean I didn't want her here, on my lap, in my bed, kissing me.

"Of course, Maxon." And she leaned in once more to lock her lips with mine. It was extraordinary how well our bodies seemed to mold together, almost like they were made for each other, like two halves finally reconnecting.

I laid back down with her on top of me, and concentrated all of my efforts into making her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, if only through a kiss. Even though I had taken a step back in our intimacy tonight, I didn't want to take a step back in our relationship. As of this moment, it was the only thing keeping me sane. I resolved that in the morning, once we had both gotten enough sleep, I would take America to the infirmary and once and for all come clean to my mother—and the staff—about the way my father mistreats me. Seeing the torture from a different angle made me realize just how unacceptable it was, and I knew that with the help from America, I could be brave enough to stand up to my father and set things right.

After a while, our lips began to slow, and America rested her head on my chest, her eyes closed, my fingers lightly tracing patterns up and down her arms. We were both too tired to move, and before we both drifted off, I said something I didn't think I'd be able to say for a long time.

"I love you, America Singer."

The last thing I saw before falling asleep was a small smile on America's lips.

Yay part 3! Ok I know that Maxon has technically said this to America in part 1 of this story when he was yelling out to her, but that was when he was super overwhelmed and just trying to comfort her; this time is much more intimate and serious.

Anyway, thanks for reading, and review if you have any criticism or thoughts! And as always, tell me if there's a specific scene you want to see and I'll write it!