A/N: I have never written anything like this before and I mostly wrote this for myself! I have all the Maxamerica feels. But enjoy! I do not own the characters of the selection, but you should read Kiera Cass' books, they are amazing. Also, the first section of the first chapter is from The One by Kiera Cass, I only included it to give some context.

Update: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, etc. I wrote another story, The Aftermath, Maxon's POV. Check it out!

I was going crazy, wanting so much more of him, aching to know if he'd let me have it. Without even thinking, I reached around and dug my fingers into his back.

Immediately, he stopped kissing me, pulling back to look at me.

"What?" I whispered, terrified to break this moment.

"Does it . . . does it repulse you?" he asked nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"My back."

I ran a hand down his cheek, staring directly into his eyes, wanting to leave him with no doubt about how I felt.

"Maxon, some of those marks are on your back so they wouldn't be on mine, and I love you for them."

He stopped breathing for a second. "What did you say?"

I smiled. "I love you."

"One more time, please? I just—"

I took his face in both of my hands. "Maxon Schreave, I love you. I love you."

"And I love you, America Singer. With all that I am, I love you."

He kissed me again, and I let my hands move to his back, and this time he didn't pause. He moved his hands beneath me, and I felt his fingers playing with the back of my dress.

"How many damn buttons does this thing have?" he complained.

"I know! It's—"

Maxon sat up, placing his hands along the bust line of my dress. With one firm pull, he ripped my dress down the front, exposing the slip underneath.

There was a charged silence as Maxon took that in. Slowly, his eyes returned to mine. Without breaking that contact, I sat up, sliding the sleeves of my dress down my back. It took a little bit of work to get it all off; and, by the end of it, Maxon and I were kneeling on my bed, my hardly covered chest pressed to his, kissing slowly.

I wanted to stay up all night with him, to explore this new feeling we'd discovered. It felt as if everything else in the world was gone . . . until we heard a crash in the hall.

And then, at the last possible moment, everything was ruined.

A guard rushed through the door, gun drawn.

I screamed, pulling up the sheet to cover myself. I was so frightened that it took me a moment to realize the determined eyes of the guard belonged to Aspen. It felt as if my face caught on fire, I was so humiliated.

Aspen looked stricken. He stood, jaw dropped, as King Clarkson took long, confident strides to stand beside him as more guards flooded the room.

"Well what have we here?" The King mused, smile only half-hidden.

I glanced over at Maxon, his face full of terror, more frightened than I had ever seen him. I took a breath and leaned closer to Maxon, placing a hand on his back and glaring daggers into Clarkson's eyes.

I know your secret, I tried to communicate with my eyes. And I can tell everyone in this room right now.

Clarkson glanced between Maxon and I and let out a brief chuckle. "Caught in the act and a room full of witnesses. I really couldn't have planned this better myself." He motioned to Aspen, "Take them both to my office."

I looked up and saw Aspen standing still and when I met his eyes they were full of shock, worry and a hint of anger.

"Did you hear me?" Clarkson bellowed. "My office, now!"

Aspen shook his head slightly to clear it and shakily reached out to grab my arm.

"Don't touch her!" Maxon yelled, jumping off the bed suddenly. He grabbed his shirt and began buttoning it and Aspen slowly let his hand drop. "Father, you and I should work this out alone." He took a step towards the door. "America, stay here."

Clarkson and Maxon stared at each other for a moment, sizing each other up. Clarkson broke the gaze and looked towards Aspen and the other guards. "Both of them. My office," and walked towards the door.

Maxon struggled against the two guards who now had hold of his arms. "Father, no!"

As Clarkson walked out of the door, he flicked his hand over his shoulder towards the guards. "Restrain him."