Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

■ Monaco, Summer Shutdown, Day Seven Cont ■

SPOTTED: Jessica Bond and Max Verstappen out in Monaco - and one of them is sporting some INTERESTING marks on their neck... - @F1Gossip_Guru

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MONACO
SUMMER SHUTDOWN
AUGUST

I can't wait for Charles to be gone.

Nor can Max.

The entire time the Monegasque man is here, slowly drinking coffee and asking about the group trip, I can feel those soft blue eyes burning a hole into me. I don't touch my own coffee, because I want Charles to leave.

When he finally does, there's an evil glint in his eye as he whispers something to Max, earning himself a half-hearted kidney punch. Max slams the door with too much force, turning on his heels to fix me with a dark look. I shouldn't have stood up. My legs are weak from the way Max stalks towards me, hands clasping the sides of my face as his lips are crushed against mine.

"I'm going to smash your phone if I hear it."

His rumbling laughter tells me that was my voice making the threat between kisses. I don't even know what made me say it other than the sheer annoyance at the fact that not once have we had a single moment go without being ruined... in five bloody days. God. This man is going to ruin me.

I'm slowly moved; a cold wall makes itself known as I'm pressed against it. All the while, his lips won't leave mine. One hand has migrated to run a slow line down my chest; my back arches against my will. My hands are at the bottom of his navy blue shirt. The damn thing will be coming off—

He breaks the kiss to pull it up, over his head. I watch the ripple of his muscles - fuck there's a mild burn between my legs. My tongue darts out across my lips. I'm taking in every detail I can as he moves to pull my shirt over my head. It's thrown somewhere - fuck knows where - and I just can't care for anything but bruising his lips between my teeth.

It gets me a reward: a feral sound that boosts my confidence. His hands are on my hips, where the marks that have almost faded are undoubtedly about to be renewed. I grab a fistful of his messy golden locks, yanking his head back to a hiss from him. My teeth scrape at his neck, right where it joins his shoulder. His fingers dig into me. I lay a light kiss before sealing my lips around the reddening area; his fingers press harder into my skin. It's the perfect feedback loop.

"Fuck—" He hisses; I hear his head thunk against the wall behind me as I move, marking higher up on his neck. His grip slackens, and I'm an idiot for thinking it means I have won by any means.

My head is pulled back sharply, by the hand that's shot up into my frazzling hair. I'll deny the gasp that tore out of me if he asks about it. His usually light blue eyes are dark, almost swallowed whole by his pupils. His lips are parted as he stares at me, thoughts clearly going into overdrive.

"Are you sure—"

"Max." My voice doesn't sound like my own. It's low, breaking as my dry throat tries to close up on me. I swallow, locking him with my eyes. "You said you'd finish it. So fucking finish it."

I've never been good at dirty talk. It doesn't seem to matter, though, as he's let go of my hair and is picking me up by my thighs. My legs lock around his waist and god he's hard and pressing into me, fuck—

My leggings must be ruined. I bet they are. Fuck it. I don't care if they are.

With my arms over his, I can rake my nails up his back and lose my other hand in his hair again. I feel him walk, but the surroundings mean little as it's his turn to bite and suck my pale neck. My eyes slip back, lids shutting as I moan far too loudly for someone with half her clothes still on. His teeth are sharp against my skin and I can feel the echo of where he'd been digging his nails into my hips only minutes ago.