Max whined incoherently, driving Alec stark raving mad with her gyrations. All his senses were screaming to take her. He imagined his head might explode the moment he slowly slid into her. If there was such a thing as a mental orgasm, he was about to have one.

Max couldn't take the torture anymore. She raised herself up a little, his erection also rising up toward its mark, and she reached down between her legs and pulled the wet, taut piece of cotton aside. Alec's eyes gleamed with an unspeakable surprising want. Not off, just aside, he thought. This ranked as one of the top five hottest things he'd ever experienced, the other four items on the list being actions and stares they had given one another over the past few hours. She hovered over the tip of him, hesitating to create the anticipation. He held his breath. His mind and eyes were wild with fervor.

She lowered herself about an inch, just enough for his lower head to skim at her illogically warm entrance. He involuntarily attempted to push his hips up, to get closer to and eventually in between her fleshy petals. Four of Alec's senses suddenly failed, leaving only the sense of touch. Every cell reacted to Max's gyrations, her promises, the slickness he knew he'd caused and now felt kiss at the tip of his erection. He let out the held breath. He hadn't realized his eyes were closed until she called to him.

"Alec," she said in the sexiest whine, a whine against which all other whines would be judged, a whine that conveyed how much she wanted him. Wants me. His eyes drifted open, taking in the hazy image of the nude, blushing woman above him.

She needed to see the sexy, cocky, spark in his hazel eyes while she slowly, agonizingly, lowered herself completely. The tip of him parted her soft lips, pushing apart her aching walls, simultaneously exciting them with beads of electricity, and rubbing up into her, their skin creating the softest, wettest, most erotic friction. He could see how they fit together, her lower lips wrapped around him entirely, wet and welcoming, surrounding him completely. Just as he finished the thought, her lower muscles contracted, pulling him farther into her.

Hard, inside me, like our bodies are having the best French kiss of all time, Max thought in fragments. She exhaled in a beautiful moan and made an untamed, natural purr. He inhaled and wondered what she had just thought. He forced himself to focus on her pleasure.

Max leaned her head forward, their bodies perfectly still otherwise, and kissed him again. He tickled up her back as if keying a piano. Her hair fell forward in a curtain around their heads, and her nipples dabbed at his chest. He could feel they were perked again. He flexed his erection as she rocked backward and squeezed him inside her, pushing him deeper into her folds.

She mumbled incoherently as he helped her create the tension she had so desperately hinted at against the vibrating wall outside Seven Minutes. He cradled her ass, lifting her upward a couple inches at random, altering their senses and exploring every angle of her unfathomably feminine darkness, only to bring her back down hard, pressing his hands into her hips, the act in itself shooting bursts of pleasure into her core. Their breathing became instinctively staccato with her swiveling and his burrowing, pinprick beads of sweat forming at her collarbone and in the crevasses of his muscles.

He pulsated inside of her and she tilted her head back, her hair falling back, her body arching back, making her breasts appear attention-starved. Alec sat up once again and enveloped her in his embrace, pulling her body against his, her breasts closer to his mouth. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and flicked at it while he maneuvered his hand to the back of her neck, supporting her arch as he pressed his lips together roughly, squeezing her reddened nipple with his soft lips.

Her hands fell to his back, pulling him toward her over and over again, the slow in-out, in-out motion bringing her close to climax, then down, then close again, then down. This was truly the best torture. Max imagined their pieces intertwining at an extremely close angle, feeling his largeness massage her inside out, tickle at her cervix. It was as if there was a spot deep in her that only he could reach, and he kept rubbing it incessantly, with a need to draw out her pleasure until she experienced the lightheaded dizziness, heart-racing vacuum of him inside her, the vacuum the unbearable void he would fill and empty at such a calculated beat that he would truly be in charge of her pleasure.

He started moving her hips up and pushing them down quicker as she intensified the rocking. Max widened the reach of her legs, pinching his penis inside of her. Oh, God, he thought. How did she just make herself tighter? He grunted, burying himself in her over and over.

Max pushed him back onto the bed and held him down by the chest, again returning to the feel of her skin on his, the connection it provided, how perfect it felt. Alec smiled. He loved how she knew what she wanted and how to get it. He loved how she slid her hands up his chest – it made him feel desired. Sexy. He loved her touch. He loved to see her breasts bouncing as she bucked her hips against his. His eyes sparked with a sudden realization. She's gonna ride me fuckin' raw.

Alec grinned at the realization, a sly smirk intolerably sexier than his normal smirk. Max's breathing started to change, hitch like a record skipping its beat, then the needle being put back into the groove, then skipping again. He felt her lower muscles starting to contract. He intensified his movement inside her, making sure he continued the exact pace and throb that had brought her this far.

And then she did ride him raw. She was smashing her hips against his furiously, her labored breathing adding extra shake to her breasts. Her face began to twist. First the corners of her mouth twitched. Her cheeks tightened and her eyebrows moved closer together. She looked pained, concerned, but he knew she just needed that one final push to send her into forgetting her name, her designation. He thrust into her as deeply as he could manage, reaching his hands up to her bouncing nipples. She fought to keep her eyes open, so that he knew she acknowledged who had done this to her, who was making her wild, making her come.

Finally, he contracted his muscle at the perfect depth, creating the perfect void, rubbing against the perfect combination of cells within her walls, and she came. Loudly. And hard. He could feel that she'd just pushed a little wetness onto his lower head. She had screamed out in oblivion, totally unaware how many decibels she emitted, unaware if anyone could hear her, and with her head tilted back and her mind completely absent, unaware how Alec kept her coming for so long.

They slowed down together. The calm before the storm, Alec thought, smiling, watching Max come down, her eyes slowly opening as she continued grinding against him. She smiled that wicked smile. Again. The one that made him crazy horny. She squeezed her muscles, pumping him gently, letting him know she was ready to continue. He could feel the saturated thread of her panties riding the side of his shaft. With one hand staying at her soft breast, he lowered the other to her thong underwear and violently ripped it off of her. She let out an excited moan. It normally would have hurt, but that fine line between pain and pleasure had folded over to just pleasure.

They began moving together once again, her vagina massaging, squeezing, pulsing around him, working him into a frenzy of hard, fast breathing and streaming pressure. He could listen to her pleased groaning and breathing all morning, all night, every day for the rest of his genetically engineered life. It was sexy as hell.

As their thrusting increased in tempo, Max knew Alec was riding the line, trying to lure out another orgasm from the depths of her warmth. Then he did something she had never experienced, something she would only experience with him. He began to blur inside of her, controlled and intently. Thank God, or whatever Manticore geek made me, that I'm a transgenic soldier, she thought. No other girl, no ordinary, would ever be able to take this girth and length, and he would hurt any other girl if he blurred in her. It felt like a big fuck-you to Manticore that he was using this ability they cooked into his DNA to please her. For some reason, she lost herself in the motion and reveled that he didn't need to hold back with her.

She began to blur back. Fuck, Alec thought. I'm in trouble. They were moving faster than both their senses of sight and sound could really determine, heightening and honing their sense of touch. Alec was slipping over the edge, but it felt so good and so raw, and they were bumping out the rhythm so fast that he was quickly losing his sense of self. When he felt the tell-tale twitching and heard her breathy cadence change, he was pulled right back into control, focusing on her arousal and her coming again.

Right now, he lived only to satisfy her. As she screamed out hysterically, his skin heated up, threatening to combust at any moment. Like a spade into soil, he continued digging into her, plowing into her instinctively. He wanted to stay inside her, pumping into her until she felt sated, and if that was never, then so be it. I'm game, he thought. Her near-minute-long orgasm finally rolling to a stop, she sat in his lap, his still-solid manhood sheathed in her to the hilt. She rocked forward, tilting her hips to each side, sending new sensations through him.

Mid-thrust, he began to sit up, slickly muscling in and out of her. He dipped her backward on the bed and reversed their positions, the pillows now up by their feet. He pressed into her, her smooth legs dividing evenly beneath him. He began very slowly sliding almost completely out of her, then all the way in her. Her hands instinctively traveled up his hard-muscled arms and came to rest at his shoulders. She pulled him down to her, kissing him.

Alec teased her lips with his tongue, delving in and out of their open-mouthed kisses. Their erratic breathing did not interrupt the slow, blissful pace. Max felt like she was sitting back on her elbows at the shore, feeling the water lap at her, lick her toes and trickle up her legs. The demand was building, she knew. She could feel it. She was getting close again, and he still had yet to have an orgasm.

As Alec spilled down her neck, keeping the erogenous zones occupied with whichever appendage he could spare, every hot breath and grunt sending him further under, he pushed into her harder and harder, encouraged by every sound she made. His own tide was cresting. Her shore was anticipating the crash, and she held on as long as she could. Alec was gone. 494 was gone. He was pure instinct now, making love to her like they were responsible for the survival of the species.

He kept the pace slow like a building wave, and before she knew it, she had called out to him in the slowest, most intense orgasm. "Alec," she had hummed.

Alec's eyes snapped open, bringing him back to her. Alec lazily let his eyelids fall as his muscle began to pulse.

"Mmmmm," Max mumbled as if she had just tasted something exotic and erotically sweet, simultaneously sending him over the edge. Staring into her eyes, his hot rush of undulations crashed against the rocks of her inner walls, the surf meeting the shore with cresting, crushing abandon. Their eyes were glued to one another's as they rode out their climax.

Alec sunk into her arms, kissing her passionately, rubbing into her repeatedly. Max vibrated with pleasure as he continued his movement, stimulating her inner lips right at the entrance. She pulled her hands between them and tickled them around to his back, pulling him into her by his ass. I knew she had a thing for my ass, he thought.

Max was nearly beside herself with glowing amazement. She smiled, lips against his, as she came to a realization. He really is always ready. She grinned and pulled his hips toward hers, his tip hitting her cervix. He seemed to be stirring her with his somehow still-rock-hard erection. Didn't he just come? It didn't matter. He was stirring her crazy. She felt like her head was about to spin off or get whiplash from flailing it about the bed for so long.

Alec moved inside her, stirring and rubbing and massaging and pulsing so slowly; she could feel everything she had done to him. He slipped up into her and pulled away like the undertow of a wave, but before he knew it, she had already pulled him back to her. If he wasn't careful, he'd have bruises on his ass shaped like her hands. The idea tickled him and he grinned. He would take her abuse whenever she wanted.

Max felt like her body was a sheet of music, and every note he punctuated, plucked at the instrument, was building up to a grand crescendo. She could feel him, feel him reading her. The look in his eyes, deep in hers, was one of discovery – he was discovering her soul, and every instrument of his that touched her made the most beautiful tone.

Even when she heard beautiful music, it never called out to her as such a personal experience as Alec's interpreting her had. Before this moment, she had thought about how an artist interpreted the world, displaying it for everyone to see or hear or feel, and get a glimpse of someone else's abstract point of view; never had she thought about how an artist revealed the most vulnerable parts of himself through his art; he could convey every emotion through the notes he tickled, plucked, tapped and fingered. Alec was reading her a map. He wasn't just discovering the aria of Max – he was showing her who he really was. Max's eyes welled with tears. This was the most beautiful moment of her whole life, and she couldn't hold it in any longer; the seams began to burst.

Alec stopped lifting himself into her for a moment when he saw her eyes, tearful. "Are you okay?"

Max nodded, unable to express the sudden onslaught of emotion.

"Do you want to stop?"

Max shook her head. She raised her hand and rested it on his barcode for a moment before pulling him down to her. "Make love to me," she seemed to ask.

She had never been made love to – she would never have let anyone touch the deepest part of her – the part of her she protected from Manticore, cheating boyfriends, Original Cindy and everyone. Because what if someone saw it and thought she was ugly? Or what she truly thought might be worse: what if they thought she was beautiful? A genetically-engineered assassin, fugitive to her creators, flawed and everything… and what if she was still beautiful?

Alec looked past her eyes and, she felt, into her soul. He got harder and softer at the same time; his exterior harder, his lips and understanding, his interior softer. He laid steady hands to her cheeks and wiped her tears with his thumbs. He moved toward her and kissed her eyelids. He trailed kisses down one side of her neck and whispered, "Maxie."

This was the only time either transgenic had ever made love to anyone; with anyone. She could feel it. Maybe they had started this because of the Rocket Fuel, but she continued because nothing had ever felt to right, so erotic, so pure, so perfect. Alec was making the slowest, gentlest love to her, and she felt the tenderness building. She felt her lower muscles contracting, felt him pulsating, and they came together, sharing the longest, most intense orgasm.

A wash of calmness enveloped them. They kissed softly, Max hugging him to her, not allowing him to slide out of her. Overcast sunlight began to spill onto their bodies. They stared into one another's eyes, and glowed, sharing another smile. Neither transgenic had ever felt that they belonged to this world; but there was no denying they belonged together.