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He was mine.
Oh God, he was mine.
He wasn’t fighting or trying to run away. He was in my grasp, offering himself up to me in the shadows of the glasshouse. I was taking him down, his weak gasps echoing in my ears.
I felt so open. The deep ache plaguing me every night since he walked into my office had wrapped itself around me, consuming me. I wanted to scream, but all that came out were stuttered breaths, signalling another attack. I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t stop, but none of it mattered when Max’s eyes fluttered closed and his body tipped forward. I carried his weight with my hands, shaking, my chest heaving, the tears I tried to hide from the world scoring a crooked path down my face.
But I was free. I’d been keeping myself restrained for too long, holding back this pain, trying to live, trying to get through each goddamn day like I was on a mission to simply survive. I’d been caged since he left, and here, as his grip on my wrists loosened and he groaned his last breaths, I could finally live again.
I leant down, my lips hovering over his. My body was electrified, every nerve on high alert. I was invincible. I could have taken on the world at that moment.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” my voice was barely a whisper.
His tongue hovered at the edge of his choking mouth. I felt so feeble. I was sure if I kissed him now, he would still welcome me.
He had torn me apart, exposed my weakness, and shown me how fragile and powerless I really was. I’d been a naive little girl who thought love was enough to sustain us, that Max would always be on my side, my rock, my home port.
I let him into my life, gave him the keys and welcomed him in, and he handed them to Goss without thinking. I could have dealt with the destruction of my flat, and moved on from it had Max supported me, but what really shattered me was the video.
I let out a strained cry as my heart broke open at the memory, looking at the man before me, the man I used to love. Even as he was fading, he was still beautiful, even more so now that I could see the light vanishing from his eyes. Even after all this — all the grief and anguish, the betrayal — he was still willing to give himself to me. I could do absolutely anything to him, and he would welcome me, and it terrified me, more than the idea that he might die in my arms.
I hated that I sobbed. Now, when I felt at my most powerful, everything I’d so desperately hidden was pouring through.
“Why did you do it, Max? How could you…?” I couldn’t finish the sentence.
It hurt too deeply to say it. I needed more armour. I needed my defences, but there was nothing standing between us anymore. He had thrown the doors wide open, and I was pouring all of myself into him, and it was disgusting. Disgusting how easy it was to not hold back, to not think. All these years I’d been holding on, and yet it fell away so freely the moment he said, ‘All yours.’
It was that recording. That video: only one minute and twenty-three seconds of footage Goss sent me when I was numbly forcing myself to walk through my flat and face the carnage he’d left. My phone had dinged as I stood in the living room, gasping in pain, and through the white noise of shock blocking out everything else, I heard it and stupidly checked my phone. The video was a grainy recording of Max and Goss talking about me like I was an eager slut, taking his cum while he took my money.
“Why would you…?” I was sure he couldn’t hear me.
He was too far gone. His heartbeat thrummed under my palms like a racehorse nearing the finish line. I’d be able to feel the moment his heart stopped if I let it go that far.
He pressed into me, freed my wrists, and grabbed my hips to support himself. I whimpered, a fresh wave of lust spurring me on. I licked my lips, squeezing his throat again, watching his eyes bulge. His face was red. He tried to gasp, but he had no strength. He was close.
If he passed out, I’d leave him here. Someone could find him, paparazzi, Bunny, whoever. He followed me. He had to deal with the consequences.
“You’re almost there, baby. Come on, you can do it.”Give yourself to me.
He gave one final choke, his entire body shuddering as he fell forward, unable to stand. I bent my elbows, pulling him to my chest, welcoming him. His body fused to mine, his head on my shoulder, his thighs pressing against me, his hands falling forward to cup my ass.
The moment I felt his hard cock graze my thigh, everything was lost. Heat exploded through my body, and I cried out. My legs shuddered as a wave of desire burned straight to my pussy, my aching nipples hard against his chest. My eyes closed, thrusting against him as my hands lost their grip, and I gave into the sensation. I could have come. It shocked me how close I was.
“You bastard.” I hissed, squeezing harder, regaining my grip.
He choked again, and I watched him, mesmerised. I wanted to bite him, tear at him, devour him. It was so intense, taking him like this. It felt like a drug, watching him fade while he used me for support.
His fingers squeezed my ass, pulling me closer, and I hated how much I bent into him. He needed to stop, but he ground against me in his struggle to stand. I was falling into him, and it felt so good.
I pushed my thumbs into the front of his throat, my nails sinking into the underside of his chin.
“Stop moving.” I groaned. “Max, you have to stop moving.”
Why was I telling him to stop when I’d never felt so good? Anchoring my fingertips on the top of his spine, I forced his head further back. His hair brushed past my fingers. I remembered how I used to run my hands through it as he lay on my chest in the early morning hours.
I pushed his chin up. I couldn’t stand the way he looked at me, with so much heat and hope. He was engaged. He was engaged to Bunny, yet he was sinking into me. Guilt churned inside me as I thought of her smiling face, how happy she’d been on stage accepting the ring from him.
“You deserve this,” I hissed, leaning forward, opening my mouth, and biting his chin.
