Page 30 of The Fire Between Us

"So wet for me," he murmurs, his fingers sliding inside me and stretching me gently. "So perfect."

I can feel his hard cock against my ass, the throbbing length pressing insistently as his fingers work me into a frenzy of need. When he finally withdraws, I whimper at the loss, but then he's positioning himself at my entrance, slowly pushing his thick cockhead inside.

"Max," I moan, the stretch and fullness overwhelming in the best possible way. "Oh god, yes."

He groans as he presses deeper, his hips flush against me, one hand gripping my hip while the other tangles in my hair, pulling gently to arch my back.

"You feel amazing," he says, his voice strained with the effort of holding still. "So tight, so hot."

Then he begins to move, setting a rhythm that starts slow but quickly builds as our bodies demand more. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure through me, hitting spots that have never been touched quite like this before. I push back to meet him, wanting him deeper, harder, more.

He obliges, his pace increasing. The sound of skin smacking skin fills the room, along with our heavy breaths and moans. His hand in my hair tightens, pulling my head back as he leans forward to kiss my neck, my shoulder, and any part of me he can reach.

"So good," I gasp as a particularly deep thrust hits exactly right. "Right there, please don't stop."

"Not stopping," he promises, his movements becoming more urgent, less controlled. "Not ever. So perfect, Jennie. So beautiful taking me like this."

I can feel myself climbing toward my orgasm, every muscle tensing as I chase the release I desperately need.

"Close," I manage to say. "So close."

Max shifts slightly, changing the angle, and suddenly I'm there—pleasure crashing through me in waves, my inner muscles clenching around him as I cry out his name. He follows me over the edge moments later, his cock pulsing inside me, his climax moan muffled against my shoulder.

For several heartbeats, we stay like that, connected and trembling with aftershocks. Then Max pulls out, helping me turn so that I'm sitting on the couch facing him. Without a word, he pulls me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me as our breathing gradually returns to normal.

"That was..." I begin, but words fail me.

"Yeah," he agrees, understanding what I can't articulate. "It really was."

We sit in silence, my head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back. I should feel exposed, vulnerable, maybe even regretful at how quickly things escalated. Instead, I feel... peaceful. Right. Like this was exactly where I was meant to be.

"Jennie," Max says finally, his voice soft but serious. "I want you to know that wasn't just... I mean, I don't want you to think that I..."

I lift my head to look at him, finding uncertainty in his expression that mirrors the jumble of emotions in my own heart.

"I know," I assure him. "It wasn't just sex for me, either."

“Good. Because I want this—us—to be something real. I want you, Jennie. Not just physically, though obviously that's pretty incredible too." His smile makes my heart flutter. "I want all of it. The romantic, the sexual, the everyday stuff. I want to see where this can go."

The sincerity in his eyes and his expression's openness fills me with a hope I'd almost forgotten how to feel.

"I want that too," I admit. "But we do need to take some things slow, especially where Amelia is concerned. She's been through so much change already."

"I understand completely," he says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "We'll go at whatever pace works for both of you. No pressure, no expectations. Just... possibility."

"Possibility," I repeat, liking the sound of it. "I think I can work with that."

He pulls me closer for a gentle kiss, one that speaks of tenderness rather than passion. When we part, his smile is soft, intimate. "Just so we're clear, though—I'm definitely interested in repeating what we just did. Frequently. Enthusiastically. In various locations and positions."

I laugh, feeling lighter than I have in months. "I think that can be arranged."

As we settle back against the couch, my body pleasantly sore and utterly satisfied, I allow myself to imagine a future here in Cedar Falls. A future with Max, with stability for Amelia, with the kind of happiness I'd stopped believing was possible for someone like me.

It won't be simple. There will be challenges, adjustments, moments of doubt. Derek still casts a long shadow, and Max has his own demons to wrestle. But sitting here in his arms, I find myself ready to try—ready to build something new from the ashes of what came before.

"What are you thinking about?" Max asks, his fingers playing with my hair.

I smile up at him, unwilling to burden this perfect moment with heavier thoughts. "That I'm glad I came to Cedar Falls."

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