This chapter is explicit. I don't know if I'm going to be able to post next week because I have the ACT next week, but I hope I can.
Thanks for reading!
-CL
Maxon crawls out of bed and grabs something from the floor. I see the first aid kit in his hand, along with a bottle of water. He crawls back onto the bed and helps me sit up. He hands me two pills, painkillers, and the bottle of water. I place the pills in my mouth and open the bottle, taking a sip. I tilt my head back to make sure the pills go down. I take another gulp of water before screwing the lid back onto the bottle.
Maxon gently grabs the bottle out of my hands and places the bottle on the nightstand. He crawls back over to me, gently pulling the sleeves of my robe above my elbows. He examines my right wrist, bending down to lightly kiss it. "I'm so sorry, my dear," he murmurs. He grabs some antibacterial ointment from the first kid and unscrews the lid. He squeezes some onto his finger and—
"Did you wash your hands?" I whisper.
"Of course," he replies, his eyes meeting mine. "I don't want you to die from an infection. I think we've seen enough of the hospital for a few years, correct?"
I nod instead of giving a verbal response. He gently spreads the ointment over the raw skin, causing me to hiss quietly.
"How did everything go while I was out?" Maxon is obviously giving me something else to think about, and I take it, grateful.
"Ames and I have it caught up, but barely. Ames did most of the work. I was too busy worrying about you and not wanting to do anything but lie in bed or sit in your hospital room. Not to mention I hardly understood anything." I laugh bitterly. "You chose a horrible person to be Queen."
Maxon chuckles. "It's only because you've been getting the hard work. The Queen's work is more fitted for a woman's mind."
"And yet Ames could," I retort. He wraps my wrist in a bandage, careful not to pull too tightly.
"Bella, you weren't raised in this—"
"Neither was Ames! She started later than you!" I exclaim, frustrated with myself. "I'm just stupid."
I hear the snip of the scissors, we're both so quiet. "Don't say that, my dear," Maxon says softly but firmly. "You are not stupid."
There's an awkward pause. "Anyway," I say, changing the subject, "we discovered, partially who shot you—"
"And you," Maxon cuts in.
"Yes, and me." I pause, Maxon switching to my left wrist. I slowly try to move my right wrist, careful of the bandage.
"Is the bandage on alright? Not too tight or too loose?" Maxon asks, examining my face, trying to pick out subtle movements.
"It's perfect. Thank you," I say.
Maxon nods and starts working on my other wrist. "So who shot us?"
I clear my throat. "The Southern Rebels. You remember Silas?"
"Of course," he growls. "He almost killed you and our—" he cuts himself off.
"Well, he was part of an extremist group, who call themselves the Royals, that want to overthrow the throne. Yes, I know the other rebels do, too, but they are way more extreme in their ways and are acting without orders. They want an heir to raise themselves to use it as an argument against us, the Schreave family."
"Sounds like you and Ames have been quite the detectives," Maxon says, cutting the bandage. He finishes wrapping it, gently letting my wrist go with a kiss. I move it around and nod. He nods in approval before placing the supplies back in the first aid kit.
"That's all we got to," I say. Maxon throws the first aid kit onto the chair near the bed, turning to face me. My robe is still tied, but my shoulders are exposed, the robe sinking down my back.
"Don't worry. I'll find the motherfuckers." Maxon crawls to me, giving me a once-over. "Any other news?" He glances meaningly at me.
I shake my head. "Not that I know of. Annabella has started walking," I say offhandedly.
Maxon shakes his head. "How are you doing, Bella?" he asks in a whisper. He's made it close enough to me to start playing with my hair.
"Better, especially since you're awake," I say breathily. His hand has found my breast, teasing the nipple underneath my robe. I gasp when he squeezes it. "Especially since you're here to take care of my needs."
"Wonderfully said," Maxon murmurs. He pulls the tie loose, my boobs springing free. I cry out when his mouth takes one. My head falls back, an embarrassing moan escaping. His finger is moving toward my clit, and—oh God—my senses are becoming overwhelmed.
"Maxon," I cry.
"Yes, my dear?" he asks innocently. His finger has found my clit, his knuckle rubbing back and forth over my slit.
"Please—" I cry out when his finger starts slowly pumping into me. He adds another, burying them to the hilt. I grind shamelessly against him, noises spewing from my mouth.
"Please what, my dear whore?" he asks.
Maxon's fingers abruptly leave me, and I fall, lying down on the bed. "Please—Maxon," I pant, sounding deranged.
Maxon's hands grip my hips, scooting us toward the head of the bed. "Be patient, my dear whore," he says. He shimmies himself so I'm on top of him.
Suddenly, he lifts me up by my ass. "Maxon!" I gasp. "Put me down! I'm too heavy!"
I can't see his face, but I can hear Maxon's anger in his tone. "You are not heavy, my dear. Whoever has told you so was a weak fucker."
I shake my head. "No—"
"Yes, my dear," he says, ending the conversation. He has me straddle his—
"Maxon, your face?" I ask.
"Hush, my dear whore." His hands grip my hips tightly, his fingers sure to leave bruises. His tongue flicks out and traces my slit, causing me to moan loudly. My head tips back, my hands holding onto the headboard.
Maxon nips my clit, causing me to gasp. "Oh God, Maxon," I breathe. This seems to break his self-control, starting to ravage me thoroughly. The headboard keeps banging on the wall, echoing across the room. His tongue goes deep, causing me to come. I leak all over Maxon's face, my hands slipping from the headboard. Maxon eats me up, and I fall onto the bed, satisfied. "Oh my God, Maxon. That was amazing," I sigh.
"And that was just the beginning," he responds. "I'll give you a few minutes."
I nod. I trace the scars on his back, allowing myself to calm down. At first, Maxon tenses under my touch but soon relaxes.
"I'll be right back," Maxon says after a few minutes. He climbs out of the bed and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
I stare at the closed door for a few minutes, but soon get bored. My fingers, of their own accord, make their way to my clit. Soon, I'm playing with myself, losing consciousness of my surroundings.
Suddenly, I feel the bed dip next to me. "Yes, my dear whore, ready yourself for me," Maxon murmurs. I look at him; he's watching me play with myself.
"Maxon," I whine. "I want you to do it." He's here anyway. Why do I have to do all the hard work?
"I will when you're ready," he replies curtly.
I frantically start playing with my clit, going as far as starting to finger my slit. I'm soon ready to come all over my hand if I just—
"Move," Maxon growls. He slaps my hand away. If it hurts my wrist, I can't tell; I'm too focused on orgasming. Maxon grabs my hips, and I rub my hands over my body until they meet his. "Fucking hell, Bella." I smile, spreading my legs. Maxon's tongue flicks over my slit, and I fist the sheets, trying to grind against him. "Prepare yourself, my dear whore." Maxon enters me slowly, which is rare, allowing me to settle myself to fit around him. He positions himself so he's over me, trapping me beneath him.
Once I'm ready, Maxon starts slowly pumping in and out of me, gradually quickening the pace. Soon, we're both coming, our cries blending together. I feel myself collapse, Maxon near me. I bury myself into his chest, allowing him to ride out his orgasm.
When he comes to, he yawns. "I love you so much, my dear," he murmurs.
"I love you, too," I respond, returning the yawn. I bury myself deeper in his chest, and he scoots us up so we're lying on our pillows. "I—" I'm interrupted by another yawn.
"Go to sleep, my dear," Maxon says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "We can talk about it in the morning. I promise I'll still be here."
I nod and yawn again. "Ok." I close my eyes, matching my breathing with his.
"Sleep well," I hear him say before I slip under. I feel him pull up the blanket and wrap his arms around me. I fall asleep in Maxon's arms, glad to finally have him back.