School has been so easy this week for some reason, so I had time to write a chapter (and start the next one). So I'm happy to post a new chapter! I can't say for certain if there will be another chapter next week, but if it's like this week I'll be able to (plus I'm off Thursday-Friday). Thanks for sticking with me.

This chapter is explicit.

Enjoy!

-CL

"Bella," a voice whispers. I turn away from the sound, burying myself into my pillow. I pull the blanket up, keeping the chill out. "Bella, wake up, my dear." I swat the source of the sound and am pulled into a hard surface, maybe…

I slowly open my eyes, my eyelids fluttering against the light. "Maxon?" I croak. This must be a dream. There's no way—

Everything comes crashing back, and I throw my arms around Maxon. "I've missed this," I whisper.

"I know, my dear. Me too," he replies, playing with my hair. "You should probably leave," he says. He carefully moves away from me, aware of the machines hooked up to him.

I glance at the clock on the wall. "It's too early to leave," I groan. It's only six o'clock in the morning.

"Don't you want to get some actual sleep?" Maxon asks. He's pulled me back to him, playing with my curls.

I shake my head. "Only with you do I get good sleep."

"We'll have to fix that," Maxon says, smirking.

I'm hit with a pang of how much I truly missed Maxon. "I've missed you so much, Maxon," I whisper. I trace his jawline with a feather-light touch. I gently kiss Maxon, his hands cradling the back of my head. He deepens the kiss, our tongues touching each other. I moan when his hands trace a line toward my breasts, then to my center. The slit in my dress allows him full access—

I break away from the kiss, gently pushing myself away from him. "We should do this later."

Maxon frowns. "Bella?"

"Let's do this in our own bed where we don't have to worry about machines being hooked up to you or having to deal with my dress."

Maxon pouts playfully. "But I like your dress. And we could just take off the dress."

As tempting as it is, I refuse. "We can't take off your hospital gown, so you already have the advantage."

"Shouldn't I have the advantage anyway?"

"Maxon, as much as I want to, I want it to be continuous in our own chambers." I start getting out of bed, my dress trailing over Maxon as I walk away. "You have six months to make up for," I say, smirking. "I want to be so sore I can't move, got it?"

Maxon smirks. "I can do that, my dear. You haven't even witnessed how much pain I can cause you."

"Good because I've been celibate for way too long." I reach the door. "I'll notify Michael you're awake. Hopefully, he'll release you soon enough."

"Until next time, my dear," Maxon says, miming tipping an imaginary hat.

"Until next time."

I hear the door open, and I jump out of my chair, my book clattering to the ground. My phone must be somewhere, too. I pull out my wireless earbuds and place them on a table I pass. I rush to see who's there. "Maxon?" I call out.

"Right here, my dear," he replies. I enter his line of sight, smiling.

"You're back. Finally," I say, breathless.

"Michael wouldn't let me leave for another three days," Maxon says. He shrugs out of his suit jacket I brought down for him a couple of days ago and throws it on the chair. He sits on the chair, breathing heavily.

"I can see why," I say. "You're winded."

"It's only because I'm out of shape, my dear. You haven't been to help me work out," he says with a knowing grin.

I smile back. "Why didn't you have Michael tell me you were leaving the hospital? I would've come down and helped you."

"I wanted to do it on my own. I wanted to surprise you."

I inwardly swoon. "Oh, Maxon. How did I get so lucky?"

"Come here, my dear. I want to see you again." I walk over to his chair, sinking down on his lap while facing him.

"Maxon, I want you so badly. No, I need you," I whisper breathlessly. His hands rest on the dips by my hips.

"Oh, God, Bella, I know," he says. His lips crash into mine, and my arms wrap around his neck. His hands move from my hips to the hem of my blouse, pulling it over my head. He takes in my light pink lace bra. The skirt that I'm wearing, a tiny, white miniskirt, barely covers my ass. I can feel Maxon's length hardening against me. His hands trail down, finding the skirt. I work the buttons of his shirt, finally pulling it off. I whip it over his head and run my hands over his chest. He pulls away and takes a good look at the skirt. "Oh, fuck, Bella. You wore this skirt for me?"

I nod, too enraptured by his hands slowly moving my panties to the side. "You're not taking off the skirt?" I croak.

"Not yet, my dear." His finger slides into my slit, the wetness oozing around his finger. "Fuck, you're wet for me, my dear." I gasp, and his hand finds my clit. He starts circling it, and I moan, throwing my head back. I hold on tightly to Maxon, ensuring I won't fall off his lap.

He pushes another finger into me and I shiver. "Holy shit, Maxon." He starts pumping his fingers in and out of me, and I cry out in pleasure. His finger is still working my clit, and I can feel my orgasm rising. I'm grinding against him, reaching the peak. I fall over the edge, and all I'm aware of is his palm pressed firmly against my clit, allowing me to ride out my pleasure.

When I come to, Maxon is smiling at me. "What?" I ask.

"I haven't made you come in so long. I haven't heard you scream like that in so long," he says. He licks the cum off his fingers and says, "And I haven't had dessert in so long."

I shiver involuntarily. "I've missed this, too, Maxon." Maxon stands shakily, and I yelp, not prepared. I circle my legs around him, my slit almost exactly lined up with his length. I hold on tightly while he walks us to the bed. Maxon throws me down on the bed gently and crawls on top of me.

My eyes follow his hands pulling off my skirt. He takes me in with my matching lingerie set, the light pink lace in my peripheral vision. "Bella," he groans. "You're going to make me look like a hormonal teenager who can't control his impulses."

"Then get your dick inside of me before you do," I retort. I pull his face toward mine, meeting his lips with mine. My fingers find the button of his pants, then the zipper. I hear the rustling of fabric when Maxon takes his pants off.

I hear Maxon groan. "You're weeping for me, my dear."

"Well, I'm glad. I thought it was dry as a desert down there with how much time has passed since I've been fucked last," I say dryly.

Maxon chuckles. The only warning I get is Maxon's inhale before I feel him stretching me. I cry out, but soon the pleasure overpowers the pain. I moan when Maxon's finger finds my clit. "Oh, fuck, please. Yes, oh fuck, yes, Maxon. Oh God, Maxon, please," I gurgle.

"You're taking me so well, my dear," Maxon murmurs. He pulls out. "Hold on."

I grab onto Maxon's back. Maxon thrusts repeatedly into me, causing me to scream. I'm moving toward the head of the bed with each thrust. He goes so deep I swear he's too far inside of me. The stretching is turning from fire into the most incredible burn. I claw at his back between each thrust, trying to get a grip on something. My back arches off the bed, and I come with an earth-shattering scream. I'm in the clouds but I can still feel myself squeezing Maxon. I feel him erupt inside of me, combining the juices flowing out of me. I feel Maxon collapse on top of me.

When I finally come back to earth, Maxon smiles. "Good girl."

I grin with the praise. "That was what I needed."

"We're not done yet. I plan on making you unconscious before we finish."

I shiver but grin at the same time. "It's about time you make up your absence."

Maxon grins. "Shall we begin again?"

I gape at him. "Don't you need to rest?"

Maxon shakes his head. "I have a lot more where that came from."