Page 88 of Key of Kink

His hips pistoned, his breathing ragged.

I gulped. “Come in me. Please, come in me.”

Max grabbed my ankles and spread my legs wide, pounding my hole, driving into me.

I could’ve wept with relief. “Thank you. Faster, harder.”

Max’s face was a scant inch from mine as he slowed, moving sinuously, offering me a teasing smile. He kissed me again, and I poured my heart and soul into that connection. I looped my arms around his neck, the breath stuttering out of me.

“Please… I want your load in me.”

His eyes locked onto mine, he quickened the pace, and then I felt it, his warmth inside me, my own body tightening around him, keeping him there. I held onto him, his back slippery with sweat, his musky scent filling my nostrils, both of us breathing harshly.

He sat up, his cock still buried inside me, and wrapped his hand around my shaft.

“Your turn.” He gave it a few short tugs, and I cried out as I pulsed onto my chest, tremors rippling through me. It seemed to last forever, but finally I was spent.

Max cupped my cheek, leaned in, and kissed me.

When he straightened, he eased his cock from my body. “Push it out.”

I gaped. “I can’t.”

His eyes widened. “Why not?”

“Because this is your couch!”

Max laughed. “Strictly speaking? No, it’s not, but the cushions are washable.” He smacked my thigh. “So do as you’re told.”

I pushed, ignoring the sound my body made as I expelled Max’s cum from my hole. Max caught his breath.

“That is so hot.”

All of it had been hot, from that first searing kiss to me decorating Max’s cushion.

But what happens now?

Max

The only sound in the flat was the shower running behind the bathroom door.

I stood in the middle of my bedroom, trying to get my head around what had just happened. Because it had been nothing short of seismic.

That was not a scene.

Except I’d known that going in.

And fuck, I’d gone in as deep as I could get. Somewhere between my name on his lips and my cum on the couch, I’d lost myself. I dragged a hand through my hair and exhaled.

This shouldn’t have happened. Not like that.

Sex after a scene? That was negotiated, contained, mapped out with clear boundaries.

This had blurred the lines beyond recognition.

What filled my head was the shared heat, the sound of his breathing, the way he took my dick, the way he kissed, fuck, the way he felt under me….

I stared at my reflection in the mirror.