Maximum Ride Fan Fiction / Maximum Ride Fan Fiction ❯ Want You ❯ Completely ( Chapter 3 )

Want You

By: Natilie Sawada

Omg, thank you all for such wonderful comments and encouragement! Just know that I appreciated each and everyone. Yah, I always get oober excited when I post a new story. I like check my Yahoo every five minutes to check if there's a new review.

And thanks to you guys there usually was!

I can't believe how popular this story has been. Thank you all sooooo much!

So by popular demand, here it is! ^_^

Luv you all~

Part 3: Completely

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Fang slowly opened his dark liquid eyes, and they stared down at me.

“Damn…” he muttered his breathing slowing. His raised a slightly twitching hand to run it through his dark hair. Shock ran though me, and I averted my eyes.

Had I done something wrong? Would Fang avoid me now? Oh, no.

I slowly stood up. A soft rustle told me Fang had pulled his boxers back up over his hips

“Fang, did I do something…” I trailed off, lamely, my voice barely a whisper.

“What? No, Max, I…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—” he sighed frustratedly as if he couldn't quite find the right words to use. “I shouldn't have forced you into anything. God, I'm such an idiot.”

“No, Fang…” I walked towards him, and placed a hand on his cheek. His eyes were staring intently at the floor. “I…” I blushed, “I liked it. And it felt good.”

“But you didn't have to do…” he trailed off, his eyes flicking to me and then away. His right arm reached across his body to hook his hand around his left arm awkwardly.

“But I wanted to,” I protested. “I wanted to see that look on your face, know ­I was the one putting it there.” I heard a low exhaled, and Fang looked up, sliding his fingers into my hair.

“God, Max,” he whispered. And his mouth was on mine, warm and aggressive. He kept his one hand in my hair while his other slid to the small of my back, pressing me closer to him. My hands were sliding along his shoulders, his back, his chest, his jaw—everywhere I touched was Fang, Fang, and more Fang…and I loved it.

His tongue stroked into my mouth insistently, dueling with my own. His hand untangled itself from my hair and slid between us, cupping one of my breasts. Fang squeezed gently.

“Mm!” To my ears the noise sounded needy and girlish. Finally I pulled away, Fang's hand still on me.

“There is…” I panted, “I very comfortable bed we haven't taken advantage of.” Fang swallowed and nodded, pressing his lips back to mine. He began to push me back away from the wall, his tongue in my mouth again, towards the bed. I felt the back of my legs hit the bed and Fang pressed my down into it.

“Now,” Fang said huskily, pulling away. “You're wearing too many clothes. No fair, Max.” I stuck my tongue out at him, and he bit it.

“Eee!” I squealed and he chuckled.

“Will you behave now?” He inquired, his hand reaching down to the hem of my shirt, and began to slide it up.

“Now why should I do that?” I asked, grabbing his wrists, stilling them. He looked up at me, his dark eyes smoldering in the dim light.

“Because if you keep acting like a kid, I'll have to punish you.” The corner of his mouth twitched up in a smirk. My eyes widened the slightest bit. He quickly glanced around while his hands twisted out of my grasp, grabbing my wrists instead.

Apparently he spotted something, and moved both my wrists into one hand, as he reached over to grab whatever it was. He pulled his arm back, and with it what looked like two of the long, rope like tassels that adorned the bed.

“Oh, no,” I said as he began to fasted the end of one rope to my wrist, and the other to my other wrist. “No, no, Fang…” But it was too late.

With a smirk on his face, he took the rope attached to my left hand and tied it to the left post at the head of the bed, and the rope tied to my right hand to the right post.

“God, I hate you,” I muttered, glaring at him. He sat back, admiring his handiwork.

“Damn,” he muttered after a minute, “how am I going to get your shirt off now?” Now it was my turn to smirk.

“Genius,” I complimented.

“I know I am,” he said, grabbing the top of my shirt with both hands. I looked down and then back up at him

“Fang, what are you—?” RRIIIPP!! Fang tore my shirt right down the middle, and pulled it off, flinging the scrap off to the side of the bed.

“Fang! What the Hell?!”

“I'll get you a new one,” he promised, lowering his mouth to mine. His hands reached down to my ribs and then slid around to the clasp of my strapless bra (straps were too hard with wings) and unhooked it, sending that off to join what remained of my shirt.

Fang stared at my exposed skin, a hungry spark lighting his dark eyes.

“Damn, you're beautiful. You know that, Max?” Fang then lowered his hand, rolling the nipple between his fingers so I couldn't respond. I bit my lip, trying to keep the moans from spilling out.

“No, don't keep it in, Max, let me hear you.” He bent his head down to my chest and gently licked this tip with this tongue. I bit my lip harder, but I didn't feel the pain that much. All I could feel were the slow circles Fang's tongue was making.

“C'mon, Max, moan for me,” he whispered, his hot breath brushing against my heated skin. Then he closed his mouth over my breast and sucked. I couldn't help it.

“Oohh!” I moaned, writhing against his mouth, the ropes binding my arms making it impossible to shrink back from the incredible torture. “Aah!” I cried when Fang moved his mouth to focus his ministrations on my other breast, while his hand continued on the one his mouth had just left.

“Oh, Fang!”

But then he pulled away, the absence of his warm wet mouth, making me twist against the ropes holding me in place. From where he sat, Fang watched me, silently, eyes dark. His breathing was a little faster than normal and I could see through his boxer shorts that he was hot and bothered to use the term.

“Now,” he breathed, his eyes roaming lower, “I don't think I did it right last time. So just sit back and enjoy, okay?” He unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down my legs, my panties following soon after as I was unable to stop them.

He scooted himself back towards to foot of the bed, and lay down, so his face was between my legs.

“Fang, what are you—?”

“Shh,” he hushed against my thigh and my breath caught. Then I felt his fingers, once again probing at my entrance.

“Fang…” I moaned, bucking my hips against his fingers. Surprisingly, Fang did what I wanted for once; he slipped his finger inside me. “Ah!”

“God, you're wet,” he exhaled, “just the thought of it…” his words only added to the feeling of his finger pumping in and out of me. And it was soon joined by another…and another.

“Ah! Uh!” It felt so much better on the bed. But then Fang pulled his fingers out completely.

“No, Fang, please!” My body was shuddering.

“Don't worry, Max,” his voice assured from between my legs. All I could do was stare at the ceiling. But then I felt his tongue making slow circles on the inside of my thigh.

Was he going to…?

I felt myself shudder with pleasure at the thought.

“Max…?” Fang's voice asked, a little uncertain.

“Yes?” I gasped.

“Can I…I…I want to taste you.” My eyes widened, the need between my legs growing to a painful ache.

“Please!” My voice was hoarse. I felt his tongue slowly make its way up the inside of my thigh and over, and then I felt his tongue scrape against my heated skin. “Oooauuhh!” My voice shot though an octave or two. “Fang, please, please!” And finally, his tongue entered me too.

I think I screamed, but I couldn't be sure. I squirmed, trying to get away from the torture he was inflicting, but also wanting to be closer to the ecstasy he was making me feel.

“Oh, God,” I choked, “Fang, ooh, don't stop, don't stop!” Waves of pleasure crashed over me. My body was trembling so hard, I think I heard the bed creaking. But then he pulled his tongue out.

“What?!” I shrieked. I twisted my hands, trying to free them from the ropes.

“Sorry,” he teased, his head poking back up to where I could see him.

“I'm so close, Fang…” I panted, my hips bucking in reckless need into the empty air, craving his touch. Fang watched, and groaned. Finally he raised his eyes to mine.

“Max, I want you to cum when I'm inside you,” his voice was hoarse and dark, his words making the throbbing between my legs more instant, “and only when I'm inside you. I want to see it on your face…that I'm making you scream.”

“I want you so bad, Fang.” His hand reached down and cupped me, making me buck my hips against his hand.

“Say it again,” he ordered, his finger sliding along my opening.

“I want you inside me!” I moaned. His finger didn't stop its ministrations.

“Again, Max,” he growled, pulling his hand away.

“Fuck me, Fang!” Fang slipped his boxers down his hips, and positioned himself between my legs so he was pressing against me. “UAH!” I cried. “Please, Fang! Please!”

“Tell me what you want, Max,” he ordered seductively, grinding himself against me. My eyesight blurred wildly.

“I want you to fuck me!”

“Say it again, dammit, I want to hear you say it!” Fang nearly shouted. I could see the film of sweat covering his skin, and feel his muscles trembling. He wanted, no, needed this as much as I did.

“FUCK ME!” I screamed, and Fang slid inside.

The pain was incredible. It felt as if I was being ripped in half. I could feel Fang inside me, stretching me to the limit.

“God, Max, I'm sorry, so sorry. I would never hurt you on purpose, I'm sorry.” His words were punctuated by feather light kisses across my cheeks and jaw. Fang reached up to untie to ropes from around my wrists, and I put my arms on his back.

“It's…okay. It's getting better,” I managed as the pain started to recede. I reached up one hand to cup his cheek. “I'm glad it was you, Fang.” His face looked strained, but a little eased at those words. “I don't regret a thing.”

I felt my inner muscles ease around him, and the pain receded. Surprisingly, the need was still there, underneath the pain, and slowly became a steady ache.

“Please, Fang,” I whispered, and after a moment's hesitation, he began to move. I gasped. “Oh, God—! Fang!” I choked. I arched against him.

“Fuck, Max, you feel so good! Ah!” He thrust into me again and again, both our breathing harsh, the bed creaking beneath us.

“Harder,” I moaned, “Dammit, Fang, harder. I won't break.” And he complied, forcing himself deeper into me. I gasped at the complete ecstasy of Fang filling me.

“Uh, Max…so tight, so wet, uhn…” His incoherent words made me moan.

“Uhh! Fang!” I cried against my will.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned, his thrusts becoming more violent and uneven.

“Keep talking, keep talking,” I whispered fervently.

“You feel so good around me. Fuck,” he groaned. God, keep the man talking!

Every time he thrust into me, a shock of pleasure raced through me stronger than anything I'd ever known besides adrenaline, and ten times more pleasurable. Thank God Fang kept talking.

“I had dreams—uh!—that I would—uh!—fuck you. And dreams where you -ah!—would suck me like you—fuck!—did before. God, I—uh!—wanted you so bad, Max.”

I moaned loudly at his words, digging my nails into his back, hooking my legs around his at the knees to give him a better angle. Fang pounded into me, and incoherent words spilled from both our mouths, mixing heated phrases with moans.

I could feel myself at the edge, Fang with me, driving us both higher. I bucked beneath him, slamming up to meet his very thrust.

“Look at me!” Fang exclaimed, but my eyes were too blurred with pleasure. “Dammit, Max, look at me!” I concentrated on his face, strained, pleasured. “I want to watch your face as you cum.”

“Fang…” I moaned, locking eyes. I could see the fog of pleasure that filled his eyes. My voice shook as he thrust into me again.

“When you cum,” Fang began, his breathing ragged as he thrust himself in and out of me, “I want you to scream my name. I want to hear what I'm doing to you—watch it on your face.”

“Yes,” I whimpered, “God, yes…”

“Will you scream for me, Max?”

“Yes…!” My moan was so loud, I flinched. “Fang,” my voice shook wildly as I stared up into his face, trying to keep my eyes focused, “I'm so close. I'm gonna cum.”

“Fuck, Max, look at me!” I stared into his eyes and then…

…mid thrust…

“FAAAAAAANNNGGGGOOOOAAAAAHHHHH!!!!” I screamed bloody murder as the orgasm hit me like a train. I felt my inner muscles explode in a frenzy of clenching ad unclenching, my entire body erupting in a feeling that had my eyelids fluttering, my eyes rolling back in my head, and an unintelligible moans and screams pouring from my lips.

I guess my release was too much for Fang.

“Max!” He groaned loudly and I felt him release himself into me. My hips buckled back onto the bed, and Fang collapsed on top of me, the only sound in the room the harsh rasps of our breathing.

After a long moment, Fang rolled off of me, and I snuggled against his chest. His hand came up to stroke my hair gently. My eyelids drooped. I was spent.

Before I drifted off to sleep, I could've sworn I heard Fang mutter the words:

“I love you, Max.”

End of Part 3

This is only my second lemon, and considering I have no experience, I think it turned out pretty well.

To continue, or not to continue. That is the question. Of course, I don't think many of you want this to turn into a fluff romance, so of course I'll make it more smut (if you want—review and tell me).

But please review on how you think I did, and if I should keep going with it!