Knock, knock.

"Max? You in here?" Fang's fist knocks on my bedroom door. I look up from my laptop screen and shift on top of my comforter.

"Come in!"

My eyes watch the door cautiously open to reveal half of Fang's face. He slips inside in his typical quiet way, sock clad feet barely making a sound on the wood floor. My heart does a little leap in my chest, offering him a small smile before I'm kissed lightly on my cheek.

He settles down beside me, resting his head on my shoulder, his straight dark hair tickling my neck. My left hand combs through it absentmindedly. "You need a haircut, mister."

"Nah," he speaks softly. "I like it a bit longer. It falls in my face just the right way."

"You look like you work in Hot Topic."

I hear the smile in his voice as he defends himself. "That doesn't mean anything. They're nice people. Freaks, like us."

I roll my eyes. It's just like Fang to bring up the freak issue. Life's been. . . tough with our flock growing up. Angel's acting up occasionally, trying to defy what authority position I have. Gaz and Ig – well, mostly Iggy – still cause some tension with their constant need to stop any alone time between Fang and I. Nudge is being an angel. She's doing all she can to be the good one and not cause Mama Max trouble. I really do appreciate it since Total's always blabbing and barking over everyone. Fang's trying to prove to me that he has the confidence and stern hand to be a good father figure, but so far it's not really working. Whenever I have to discipline Angel for whatever the hell she did, Fang always jumps in and calms her down. He showers her with honeys and sweeties; which makes me seem like the bad guy. We literally are the good cop/bad cop routine. Guess who's always the bad one?

I've come to accept the fact that as rough as Fang can be, he's good with the kids and I need some help. They might like him a little more than me, but as long as no one's fighting or leaving the flock, I'm happy. As long as things are rolling along smoothly, we should be able to hold on.

I lean my cheek against his head. "We're genetic freaks. It's a little different."

His eyes flick up to mine, "Oh well. Let's not worry about that tonight."

"Not worrying about saving the world and being an abnormal creature? Do tell," I smirk, my fingers still playing with his hair.

He grabs my laptop, sets it at the foot of my bed and tackles me, making us bounce and the bed springs make a quiet noise. I laugh and wrap my arms around his neck, waiting for his reply.

He doesn't have one.

Fang's lips crash onto mine playfully and his body falls heavily down on my hips. My fingers travel to the tips of his hair, pulling them lightly. He tongue pushes passed my lips and immediately wages war against mine. I move my hips involuntarily against his and a soft groan escapes into his mouth. His teeth capture my bottom lip, sucking on it, eliciting a louder sound from me. Hips crash violently onto hips, moving together, making the friction between our jeans send pleasure through both of us. He grunts into my mouth. I feel his fingers travel down to the bottom of my t-shirt, rubbing his rough fingers on my stomach. Shivers run down my spine and I pull my mouth away from his, grinding forcefully as his hands find my chest, kneading whatever's there for him to get his hands on.

Going slow was never an option for us. Whenever we have alone time a tidal wave of lust comes and douses the both of us, leaving us in a frenzy of let-me-just-pin-you-here-and-rip-off-all-of-you-clothes,-'kay?

His thumbs slip beneath my bra and a gasp/groan pours out of my lips.

"What was that?" I hear Angel's heavenly voice drift from her room down the hall.

"Dunno. Don't worry about it. It could be anything." Nudge responds to her; her feet making little padding noises on the floor. Suddenly the door opens.

"Hey, Max, can I- Oh. Sorry. . ." Nudge says, then registers our position and awkwardly backs away. We can hear her run down the hallway, calling out to Angel as she goes. I laugh, happy with his body on mine to hide anything that Nudge shouldn't have seen – aka the tent in Fang's skinny jeans.

There's a sound of two bodies colliding outside my door and two voices groan in pain.

"Iggy. . ." Nudge pants nervously. "Whatever you do. . . Don't go in there. Fang and Max and . . . just don't do it."

There's silence and I actually believe that Iggy will take her advice. I blame the boy's appendage that's pressing into my thigh.

"HEY GUYS! HOW'S IT GOING?" My bedroom door is thrown open to reveal Iggy staring blindly – pun intended – into the room. He strolls casually towards the bed and plops down on the end of it. Um, no. This is not happening.

"You'll leave right now if you know what's good for you" I growl threateningly. He shrugs, laughing. May I just say, it's pretty tough to be threatening when you're underneath the man that was just feeling you up.

Iggy cackles and shakes his head. "Nope. I don't care if you're indecent. I can't see a damn thing."

Fang clears his throat and shifts, rubbing against my inner thigh, making me bite my lip as I gasp. His voice comes out raspy. "Ig, please. Not now."

"Why not?" He taunts, grabbing my hip to find that my pants are on, but my shirt is pushed up. "This isn't bad."

"You shouldn't be in here," Fang looks at his hand that's on his waist. "Iggy no. . ."

I watch his journeying fingers find Fang's hip and he feels the stretching fabric. Iggy pulls his hand away and shakes it like it's been burned. "Hot damn! Already, man?"

"Shut up and leave . . ." Fang's voice turns menacing, his eyes boring through the other teen's skull.

To my amusement, Ig shuts his mouth and looks around as if he's surveying the room. He then opens his mouth before I can push my boyfriend off of me and tackle him. "FLOCK MEETING IN MAX'S ROOM. NOW!"

"Shit, Iggy!" I'm pinned down, unable to jump on him. "Fang! Get off!"

His eyes meet mine and he shakes his head. Why?

Oh . . . I get it . . . Having the kids see what's in his pants could start awkward conversations that I just don't want to get involved in. Explaining to the girls what the function of an erection is something that isn't in my agenda for today.

The sound of multiple pairs of feet racing down the hallway reaches our ears seconds before the Gasman busts through the doorway.

"What's going on?" Poor little guy, his voice sounds so nervous. "Is Jeb here?" Nudge and Angel follow him, the latter squeezing past him to stand closer to my bed.

"Hey, what's up?" Nudge asks, everyone looking at Iggy and carefully avoiding us. For now. But, of course, Iggy has to draw the attention back to us by flipping Fang off of me. He quickly sits up, his hands in his lap, trying to hide whatever's going on down there. Iggy just sits there in silence after, obviously unsure of what to do next. That bastard. I'm going to get him later for this one. The awkward silence builds as I try to casually fix my shirt. Then, driven by some inborn instinct or just my fucked-up fate, Angel leans over to Fang.

"Hey, do you want to play slide?" she asks. Well, she is still a little kid. And, somehow and much to his embarrassment, Fang has become the best slide player of any of us. No one's ever beaten him. It's kinda funny, actually. His hands are just amazing, I guess. Wait, whoa. Not like that.

"Um, no. Not now." Fang answers tersely, his arms tensing up. Moving his hands right now would be pretty majorly bad.

"Aw, pleeeeeeeeeeease?" she wheedles, pulling out her almost-perfect puppy dog face. Damn. He's going to give in. But (Thank God) he refuses again. She asks again. And again. And eventually I almost want him to say yes, just to shut her up. I look over at Iggy on the end of the bed, a small smirk inhabiting his face. He knows exactly what will happen if Fang moves his hands. And he's prepared to wait for this fun. But then Angel switches tactics. She grabs Fang's hands to try to make him play. And, as they move, Fang's pants come into view. Or rather, what currently inhabits them. Angel drops his hands out of surprise and he covers up again quickly, his cheeks turning just barely pink. My God. No.

"Max? What is-" Angel starts to ask. But I really don't want to get into that right now, so I instinctively jump out my open window. Okay, maybe it's a bit of an overreaction, but that's kinda how I tend to deal with stuff. I'm off, wheeling through the darkening sky before she can even get her question out. Nope. Not talking about that now.

FANG'S POV

I watch Max fly away, trying not to get distracted by her hair streaming behind her or her a- suddenly I'm forced to tighten my hands on my pants in an effort to keep it down a little. Glancing around the room, I see everyone's still looking at me. Well, not really Iggy, but he's looking in my direction and smirking. Damn him. Angel and Gazzy just look kind of confused, thank god, but Nudge is flushed a bright red. She saw. And she knows exactly what it is. When did she learn this stuff? She's only twelve, for crying out loud. One more look tells me I need to get out of here. I follow Max out the window, her body silhouetted against the setting sun.

"Wait! I have something for you!" Iggy calls with a cackle. Please don't let it be a bomb. Something hits me, falling down through the sky. Where the hell did Iggy get a condom from?

"Found 'em in your room! Thought you could use 'em!" He shouts, pelting me with another. I catch this one and look at it. Yup. Mine. How Iggy found this, I have no idea. They were really well hidden… I stick into my pocket because, well, why not? A barrage of them follows, his aim almost flawless despite his lack of sight. I still don't know how he does it. I end up catching a couple more, and then shoot off after Max.

MAX'S POV

I alight on the edge of our cave with a sigh. Yes, our cave. We have a cave. Don't you? No? Well, you're missing out. It's an awesome place to sit and think. Like now. I sink down on the rocks, replaying what just happened in my head. Angel dropped his hands pretty fast, but not fast enough. Everyone must've gotten a pretty good eyeful of… that. This is pretty damn bad. Why does this always happen to us? We've never had an uninterrupted make-out yet. But I think this tops them all. All of the kids saw Fang with a small (or not so small?) issue. And now they're going to want to know and this is all Iggy's fault. I'm going to kill him when I-

"Hey," Fang says quietly, landing on the edge with a small scuffle of pebbles, scattering my thoughts and distracting me. With him standing right in front of me I can see that he still hadn't solved his problem. I swallow. Oh.

"Hi there," I answer, standing up so that wasn't staring me in the face. But, just my luck, he sat at the exact same time. I laugh and sit back down next to him. "So… back there…" I start. Fang's cheeks color just barely, his expression of extreme embarrassment.

"That was bad. Never again." He says quietly. I nod. Of course not.

"At least we were still dressed?" I try, attempting to cheer him up. It doesn't really work. He doesn't answer. "I'm going to kill Iggy later?" Still nothing. All right. Time to try something else. I flip over, landing on top of him, straddling his stomach and pinning his shoulders. "Distracted?" I ask.

"Yeah," he answers, barely audible. I can see him swallow, trying to relax. Ha. I inch my hips down his body until I can feel the thing that got us into this whole mess. Yup. Still there. Interesting. I lean my elbows on his chest, bringing myself closer to his face.

"Is this okay?" I query with a slight smile. This is killing him. But he puts his arms behind his head, trying to act casual.

"Perfectly fine." Hmph. Looks like I have to kick it up a notch. I press my mouth down on his roughly, maybe a bit rougher than I had intended. But, being Fang, I figure he'll just deal. And he does. I keep my mouth there for a minute then pull away, my eyes dancing. His have lit up with a sort of lustful fire. Ooh. This I could do something with. He reaches for my head to pull me back down but I lean away, pinning his arms to the rocks as well.

Laughing a little, kissing down the side of his face and across his jaw, watching his eyes flicker closed. Another soft kiss on his lips and then I start traveling down his neck. I locate his pulse point and suck on it a little, grazing my teeth over it. He hisses beneath me and I smile. This is fun. My lips trail down to the collar of his shirt, kissing around it. I know he wants my shirt off. I do too, honestly. But I don't have a hand to do so. What to do, what to do…

I lean back over his face, grinning down at him. He looks almost animalistic now. It'd be kinda funny if it wasn't so damn sexy. But I only see his face for a second before he burrows it down into my chest. Um, what? Then I feel his teeth against me, feel them hooking on to something else, and my shirt starts to get pulled up. Damn. Is he…? Damn.

He drags the shirt up over my head and I let go of his arms for just a second to rip it off. I think it got a little torn in the process but I don't care. Unfortunately, he took advantage of his one moment of freedom. I'm flipped over and suddenly my back is pressing into the rocky floor as he ravages my face with kisses. I can feel him pressing into my thigh, harder than before, and I really don't mind. Lucky me, he forgot to pin my arms and they thread instinctively into his silky raven hair, pulling him closer. His mouth crushes down on to mine, his tongue slipping its way inside my mouth, and the battle begins there as well. One of my hands moves down his back, to the hem of his shirt, and tears that off too. This time I'm greeted with the unmistakable sound of ripping fabric as we break apart to get rid of the piece of clothing. Oh well. It needed to go.

His hands leave my face and start roaming across my body, tracing the curve of my hip, the bottom of my bra, snapping it against my skin. He traces it around to the back and I arch up, allowing him access. It hasn't slipped my mind that this is the first time that we've ever really been alone, but I won't let myself worry about it yet. He fingers the clasp of my bra again and again, just taunting me. I growl at him to get moving and he looks down at me, his dark eyes burning. The only thing I can do is grab his face and kiss him roughly, adrenaline and need coursing through my veins. He finally opens the clasp, tugging it off my arms and tossing it aside without ever breaking the kiss. He lowers his chest down onto mine and the feeling of my bare skin on his overwhelms me. I throw myself into the kiss, arching up and grinding into him as hard as I can. My God, this feels amazing.

Then he slips a hand between us, tracing my chest. I'll admit, there's not much there, but I guess what he finds makes him happy. He, well, it could only be described as moans into my mouth, pressing down on my chest. My brain has pretty much stopped working, so I react on instinct. My hands slip down his back, nails out, scratching him just a little between his wings. When they reach his waistband they trace the rim, dipping under it once to see the reaction. His low string of profanities is punctured by another moan, deeper this time. I find myself answering with a moan of my own, my hands circling around to find his button. Am I really doing this? Yes, I decide. Yes I am.

My fingers find the button and I fumble at it for a moment, then finally figure out the simple button and zipper, pushing them down his hips. He kicks them off and I hear them fall somewhere in the cave. I don't really care where. All I can think about is his hands moving slowly towards my waist. He opens my button without any effort, shoving my pants down and my underwear goes with them a bit. Shit, we're close now. I can feel him grinding into my underwear and dammit I want him. This is crazy. But I don't care.

My hands are still on his waist and I dip them inside for a second, a desperate groan greeting my action. I slip my hand between us and find the large-ish bulge in his boxers, rubbing it in time with our heated kiss. He groans my name loudly, fingering the top of my underwear. I move a bit faster and he presses into my hand. His noises sound almost desperate now and I wonder if we should just get on with it. Does he have anything? Could I get pregnant?

In the end I decide I don't care enough and start tugging his boxers down with my other hand. Within seconds he rips my underwear off, having obviously been waiting for a signal to continue. I push his down, letting him kick them away. And I realize we're against each other, skin on skin, completely. Another moan escapes my mouth as my chest arches to rub against his, feeling an increase in friction. My hands squeeze his hips desperately, nails finding his skin. Fang hisses into my lips with his teeth latching onto my bottom lip, sucking and nipping lightly on it. I wrap a leg around his, my slick core sliding against his skin. His hands move to my hair, grasping it tightly and he tugs it in unison to the rhythm of our bodies. Fang's name passes my lips in a terse groan. My fingers scrape up the sides of his abdomen, making him press against me even harder.

The tension in the air's thick, heavy and something I've never experienced before. Rocks on the floor start to scratch my back, adding to my sounds. Fang pulls his mouth off of mine and attaches it to my neck, licking down it, finding an appropriate place to suck on. He bites me lightly before he latches on, sucking my skin like a vampire. I arch up, digging my nails into his shoulders, making him squeeze my thighs tightly. Tomorrow, we'll look like we got attacked by Erasers. But I. Don't. Care. His hands, his mouth, his nails are all I need right now.

His tongue drifts further down my body, sweeping over my collarbone and the top of my chest. All I can do is moan and pull his hair. His mouth gravitates lower to my chest, sucking and kissing sloppily at my breasts like an animal. His erection's digging into my thigh and a fire starts in my middle. I don't know how much longer I can take without doing something. Disregard what I said previously. I need more.

"Fang . . ." the lust and need is as blatant as it gets in my voice.

He ducks his head to my stomach, sucking above my belly button. I grunt, yanking his hair harder, rocks digging into my back now, making my wings feel trapped.

He hums in reply against my stomach. It flows straight to my core, my desire becoming animalistic. His lips stay where they are, but his hands dip lower, reaching between my legs, spreading them. I wrap both legs around his body and his fingers squeeze between us, feeling my upper inner thighs. His thumbs rub against me lightly, contrasting with the roughness of his mouth. I bolt up, sitting erect with a gasp, cupping his face, bringing it to face mine. His breath splashes my lip as his nose brushes mine. Slowly, his fingers stroke me, nothing too arousing, but just enough to send shocks down my spine and I throw my head back. Fang's mouth attacks my neck again and I struggle to hold steady, rocking on my sit bones. He slips a finger into me after toying with my clit. I go insane.

My hands drift to his shoulder blades, feeling his wings. "Do something . . . please. You're killing me . . ."

I feel him chuckle against my skin. "You want to –?"

"Yes!" I cry out, his moving fingers making me beg. "Now!"

He nips my neck. "Demanding, much?"

Another finger slips between my wet folds, massaging me. My hips shift and I struggle to stay steady. "Fang! God . . ."

Fang pulls out of me completely and stands up. I lift my eyes which are eye level to his crotch. Clearing my throat, he meets my glance and walks to my left by his pants. I don't understand. What was he . . . Wait . . . He's grabbing something. What the hell could he be grabbing?

He must have seen the look of confusion on my face and he holds up a little wrapped package and says plainly. "Condom. Don't want to have another kid possibly flying around, do you?"

I exhale and nod in agreement. "Being a mother of five was enough before Total came along. I can't be pregnant for Doomsday. No way. . ."

My voice trails off as my eyes watch his fingers tear open the wrapper and he tosses it to the side. He stares down at me with the latex between his thumb and pointer finger, silently questioning what to do. He shifts his footing and extends his hand giving it to me.

I don't know how to do this? I'm not a dude. I'm a fifteen year old girl who was never trained in the skills of putting things on dicks. That's a guy thing. My thoughts whirl as I take it. My sight drifts from the circle between my fingers to what's in front of me and how the fuck it's going to fit. "Umm . . . I just . . . put it on?"

I hear his snort and a blush finds my cheeks. I didn't come here to be laughed at. "Yes Max. You put it like this –" Fang grabs my wrist gently and moves it towards his crotch, making me place it on his tip " – and you put your hand like this – " he makes me sort of cup my hand around him and my heart races when I brush against him " – and you hold the condom with two hands, pinching the top for a little space for later and you roll it on until it can't go on anymore."

Making eye contact with him briefly, I refocus on the task in front of me and I follow his instructions, sliding my hand down his shaft as slowly as possible. To make sure it was on correctly. Duh. I'm no seductress.

He sinks to his knees to meet my glance. My lips part for him at a simple brush of his mouth and his nose. It's not as rough and violent as before. The heated sexual tension seems to have diminished just a smidge when he gradually pushes his chest against mine, forcing me to the floor. Fang spreads my legs apart with his hand and body, lying flat on top of me as he increases the intensity of our kiss. He inches closer and closer to my heated entrance. I feel like I'm just a puppet following his every move. The pit of anticipation in my stomach grows and almost explodes when I feel his tip against my skin.

"Okay?" he mumbles into my lips. He gets a hum in response and my legs spread a little more. He didn't look too big just before. This shouldn't be bad. Well, what do I know? What's average and what's small? He seemed to be just fine. I guess.

His body tenses up as he starts to push into me. A gasp leaves my lips and my fingers grab onto his strong shoulders. I pant out, "Just go in! I don't care!"

There's a jolt of pain, making me cry out for a moment. Like I did a roundhouse kick after a few weeks and I pulled my hamstring. It's quick. It's short. But I have felt worse pain in the past. Nothing I can't handle.

He exhales on my lips and I feel his body shake. I pull my mouth away to stare into his eyes. He questions, "Can I move? Are you okay?"

"Go. I'm fine." My nails dig lightly into his skin and I shift my hips upwards more to wrap a leg around his waist. I am well more than fine, Fang. Go ahead. Do whatever you like.

With his mouth at my neck, we start moving. His motions are slow and steady, giving him room to pick up the pace, which I know he will because this will definitely not finish me. I whisper for him to go faster and he covers my mouth with a hand.

"Shh . . . I'll go when I want. I'm on top. I have the control." His nails make small imprints on my cheek and I close my eyes, pressing into his shoulders harder, hoping the pain will send a message that I am not happy. Maximum Ride does not like to be shushed. Fang crushes my hips with his, continuing at our agonizingly sluggish pace, squeezing my leg that's around him tightly. My tongue runs against his fingers hoping it will do something. I hate being so helpless. So unable to do anything but take it whether I liked it or not. But somewhere inside me, a switch was flipped a few moments ago and I like it. More than I should.

A small sigh of pleasure slips through my lips and his fingers not a second later. My eyes widen and his smirk of pride is obvious. I grab onto his shoulders harder and bite my lower lip, trying to deny that it ever happened. He continues his thrusts in and out of me, picking up the pace just a little bit. Fang breathes on my neck, making chills erupt all over my body. He nips my ear before hissing into it: "I heard that." He presses his hips roughly into mine as he goes in, eliciting a louder sigh from me. I curse into his hand and gnawing on my lip harder. No Max. Stop that. I think. Stop making sounds. That's just what he wants. But I don't believe myself. I want him to hear me. I want him to make me scream. What? Where did that come from?

He moves his teeth to my neck and bites it, hissing once more: "Don't hold back. Am I doing this right?"

You don't hold back, I mentally retort before my thoughts clog up when his nails rake up and down my leg in unison to his thrusts. I shiver, letting a groan loose. Affirming that yes, he is doing that right. He slams into me and my head gets thrown back. My mouth is torn from his grasp and a throaty groan echoes on the walls of the cave. Fang moves his hand to my throat, not doing anything but resting it there.

I exhale, so far gone in the sensations, "Again. Fang. Again."

He tugs on my ear and quickly slams into me with just as much force as before, making my hips meet his to get him in more. My nails scrape along his back with every thrust, calling out, feeling myself start to sweat. I watch a sheen of sweat form on Fang's body as well and he doesn't slow down. Both of my legs wrap around his body, driving him deeper, leaving him less room to pull back. I hear him hiss and groan softly into my skin and I take his hand, threading our fingers.

Fang doesn't stop. He goes faster. And faster. Our chests smash against each other as our breathing resorts to pants. It's overwhelming and it's fulfilling. I move his hand to my stomach, grabbing his wrist to slide it between my legs. My fingers slowly slide around my clitoris, silently telling him what to do. And it feels ten times better when he rolls my bundle of nerves between his thumb and index finger. I yell out his name louder; Fang's hand building this coil of sensations with his quick thrusts.

"Max. . . Max. . . I can't . . ." He gasps onto my neck.

"Let go," I whisper before a moan is torn out of my throat by him pinching me. "Fang, let go!"

His rhythm starts to go erratic and his breaths become more labored. He pulls back and slams roughly into me, not letting go of my clit, making me scream. Fang calls out my name mixed with a moan, pulsing inside of me as he climaxes. He rubs me slowly and that completely makes me become undone, screaming out his name with reckless abandon.

Collapsing on top of my sweaty body, Fang places his hand in my hair that's probably all over the place. "Max. . ."

"Hmm?" I blink, playing with his sex hair that isn't too, too bad.

"Holy shit . . ." He moves his face down to the valley between my breasts, kissing the damp skin. "That . . . was fun . . ."

I nod. "I know . . . It felt amazing . . ."

His tongue comes out and gathers up the beads of sweat. His other hand rests on the right side of my chest. "It did . . ."

I prop my body up on my elbows and lean my head back, not trying to control my rapidly rising and falling chest. A smile creeps its way to my mouth and I giggle, thinking about what we just did. I just feel . . . happy. Fang and I . . . after months, maybe years of tension . . . finally had sex. Rough and extremely satisfying sex. Sex that I didn't even think I would have because of the kids always peeping in. We couldn't do this in the house. But here, we're safe and isolated and have no one to hide from. We could do whatever we wanted. That thought makes me smile wider.

Fang looks up, completely confused. I rarely smile. I rarely laugh. "Max. . . Are you all right?"

Peering down at him I nod, still grinning. "Yeah. Fine."

He cocks an eyebrow and lightly squeezes my right breast. "You look all giddy and drunk."

"Well," I pull his face up by his hair, brushing his lips as I speak. "that's because that felt so amazing. We should do it again. Now."

"Now?"

"Yes. Now." My lips meet his in a deep kiss, falling back to the ground.

Abruptly, Fang pulls away and stands up, his legs on either side of my body. I watch him slowly strip off his condom and toss it behind him. He walks away from me, going over to his pants. My brain being reduced to the size of a speck of dirt, I don't process what he's doing. Or what he's going to get. I rise, my hands on my hips, intensely watching him. "Fang?"

Between his fingers, he holds up another wrapped condom with a smirk. "We need another one, don't we?"

I grin (I'm doing a lot of that lately) and silently beckon for him to come over to me. "That we do."

As soon as he's inches away, I pounce, catching his mouth in a passionate kiss. His hands tangle in my hair and he drops the protection on the ground, pushing me back until I hit the wall. We move in a hectic frenzy. Our tongues slide and battle against each other's. I feel his strong hand grip my hip, squeezing tightly, motioning that he wants to pick me up. I wrap my leg around his waist, giving him help and he lifts me completely off the ground, pressing me harder into the stone wall. My ankles link behind his lower back. Our bodies are totally smashed together; our chests breathing in unison; our hips moving in one motion; our mouths connected by our kisses. His fingers trail down to my chest, kneading one side while his other hand digs his nails into my thigh. My hands tunnel into his black hair, pulling and barely giving him time to breathe as we gasp for air between our kisses. Fang's tongue traces my lower lip and I exhale with a groan, relishing the amazing feeling.

He pants out my name before ravaging my mouth again, bringing out his teeth to nip and suck on my lip. My nails scratch the edge of his cheek and jaw, pulling my head back to rip my lip from his bite. His nose lines up under my jaw and I direct him where to go next using his hair.

"I take that back. . ." I mumble as he starts sucking on my neck.

"You take what back?" He doesn't take his teeth off my pulse point.

"Don't get your hair cut. . ." I pull on his hair, pushing my chest up into his so my back arches off the wall.

He grins and nips my collarbone. I drive my hips up into his body, already feeling my arousal get on his skin. Yes, already he's gotten to me. I'm not exactly proud. But seriously, seriously turned on.

Fang's lips move to the crook of my neck on my left, breathing deeply as he circles his tongue around and around. I start to catch my breath, my eyes staying in their half-lidded state. I hardly notice his hand on the back of my thigh untangling my legs from his waist, making me stand on my own. He slides that hand up from my butt to the back of my neck. He follows the length of my arm until he reaches my hand, twining our fingers and slams my arm against the cave wall. Our noses touch and we meet the other's glance, gasping for air. My chest rubs against his as I breathe heavily. Lust blazes in his eyes and he grinds into me. I grind back, my hips moving on their own accord. His index finger falls on my swollen lips and he releases my hand, dropping to his knees. Right in front of me.

My heart pounds and my once controlled breathing picks up again. I watch his tongue sweep around my stomach, holding my hips, tilting them to his face. Oh my God. Look at him. Just submitting and kneeling, licking my skin. I could never get tired of this. My fingers are outstretched; my arms are leaning against the wall beside my head and my lower back his moved off the wall because of Fang's hands. I lift a leg, draping it over his shoulder, pushing into his wing, pushing him closer to my core. He licks a line straight down from under my belly button to my clit. His lips wrap around it, sucking lightly, gradually getting more intense. I moan, clenching my fists. Jerking my hips up, I hit his face, moving my center closer to him. His teeth brush against the bundle of nerves and a low growl escapes my throat. Fang inches his mouth down, flicking his tongue out to slide along my lips. I gasp, fisting a hand in his hair, ready to cling on for dear life. He licks me again and my foot falls to the ground, needing the support. His hands spread my legs apart more and he delves in. Fang's tongue slowly sweeps around in a circular motion, hitting my walls. I glance down with my lips parted, watching his head move as he sucks and licks. Why hasn't he done this before? This feels... Incredible. He zigzags inside, constantly changing the pattern of his tongue. He picks up his pace, bringing his thumb to press into where his mouth isn't. Quickly, he leans back to blow on me, contrasting with his rough mouth. I thrust my hips up, my other hand going into his hair, forcing him back. But he doesn't continue. He continues to blow on me, his hands holding my legs apart so I don't get smart and cover myself. An index finger slides down from clit to core. I can feel his finger get wet almost immediately. My eyes focus on his hidden face, just making out his smirk as I shudder, grunting his name.

"Enjoying this?" He coos against me.

I hum, violently turning his head up so I can look at his expression. Fang's hair covers one side of his face and his lips glisten from where they just were and they're parted ever so slightly to expose the tip of his tongue. I respond tersely. "Finish what you started."

"Make me, Max. Show me where," Fang says submissively, purposely pushing my buttons so I take control. My fingers tighten in his hair and I yank his head back between my legs, resting the back of my head on the wall with my eyes closed. His nose brushes against me just to be a tease. I grunt and push his head further between my thighs. He snickers as his tongue pushes back into my heat, swirling around quickly. Toying with my clit, his fingers push me closer to the edge. My walls start to tighten around his mouth and he hums in pleasure against me. Fang flicks against my g-spot. Once. Twice. Three times with a hum and light pinch to my clitoris and I scream out his name, climaxing. My back arches off the wall completely and his lips close around my clit, watching me. I feel his fingers go inside me to gather up whatever I released.

When I finally finish riding out my orgasm, my body relaxes against the cave wall, not noticing that my fingers left his hair seconds ago to fall at my sides. Peaking down with my huffing chest, I see Fang leaning back on his heels, licking his fingers clean. We're silent. Our lustful glances are enough to let the other know what's coming next. I motion for him to stand with a finger. He smirks mischievously, rising on command with the condom in his hand. His nose touches in between my eyebrows, leaving his lips in plain sight. He pins my arms beside my head as my tongue sweeps across his bottom lip, getting my taste. I do it again, slipping into his mouth, getting more of it. Moving my wrists quickly to one hand, he pushes my head back with his free hand at my throat. I nervously peer up at him and he holds up his pinky finger to me.

"I left you one. Taste it."

My mouth opens and licks his pinky, making me groan. I can't say why it's so arousing or why it's enjoyable to be able to taste myself on Fang's finger and tongue. I wish I could. It just is. It makes me wonder what he tastes like and I almost drop to my knees to find out, but he grinds into my hips, reminding me what I want more. He gently kisses my forehead and I keep my arms resting against the wall. His pinky leaves my mouth and he holds out the wrapped condom. "Care to do this yourself?"

I pluck it from his grasp. "I would love to." I tear it open, tossing the wrapper aside and nudge his chest away from mine so I can look down as I do this. Exhaling, I place it on his tip, pinch the top and roll it on him. This time, I'm brave and meet his eyes, slowly sliding my fingers down his length. I'm not afraid of my boyfriend's dick. It's not scary. He takes hold of my wrist, making me do it again as he mumbles: "Cup your hand."

I do what he says, cupping my hand around him, letting him guide my hand up and down on his length. I watch his face relax in bliss and something in me starts to glow. I'm doing that to him. I tighten my grip, getting more comfortable with doing this. He hums and shuts his eyes, whispering my name over and over again. I grin, moving my hand faster, feeling him get harder in my palm. Slowly, I start to decrease my speed, not wanting him to waste another condom. Eventually I'm just holding him, waiting for Fang's eyes to open.

"Max . . . Why-why'd you stop?" He questions quietly.

"Because I want you to use this" – I tap his tip – "for something else."

He tips his nose under my chin. "And what is that?"

"Get over here." I order with a smile, taking his hands, holding his arms above our heads. My left leg wraps around his waist, grinding into his hips lightly. He releases my hands and picks me up, pinning my body to the wall with his chest. I capture his hips with both my legs, clinging onto him. My wrists are grabbed by his hands, trapping them to the stone.

Our lips skim over each other's as our hips grind forcefully. My eyes flutter closed, trying to keep my lower back on the wall so I'm ready for when he enters me.
Minutes pass and I start to lose it. I need him. He's just taunting now. And he knows it. I bang my heels into his tailbone with a grunt, letting him know that I'm waiting. Nipping my cheek playfully, he wiggles his hips and lines up with my entrance.

"Okay?"

"Yes. Okay. Just go."

And he slowly slides in, not moving immediately. I groan, fighting his hands as they fall onto my palms and he links together our fingers. In a sloppy kiss, our tongues meet, fighting each other. Then he starts moving in long, drawn out thrusts, making sure my back scratches against the unevenly cut rock behind me. I cling to him, squeezing his hands, starting to thrust quicker. He groans deep in his throat and moves harder and faster, painfully banging into me. I cry out leaning my head back, exclaiming, "Again. Fang. More."

He bites my neck and does it again. And again. My sounds of pleasure get louder, bouncing off of the cave ceiling and walls. Fang slams into me and stops moving, grinding against my body as he pushes deeper and deeper inside of me. I lift my pelvis up, trying to hold him without making him move. He hisses in my ear for me to open my eyes and I do. We make eye contact and he snaps his wings open. Fifteen feet of powerful feathers that are so black they're almost purple. He flaps them lightly, stretching them out and I resist the urge to rip my hands from his grasp to gently stroke his soft down. He looks like a lustful angel of Death. I get lost in his dark and majestic . . . being. Banging into me again, regaining his quick rhythm, my mind clogs up and I moan, squeezing my eyes shut, arching my neck. I feel his feathers tickle my arms and I look at him to see he moved his wings to make a sort of cocoon around us. He kisses me forcefully, making my head stay on the wall. The urge to fight him begins to take over me. I can't be trapped like this the entire time. I refuse to be pinned until I scream.

"Fang. . ." I weakly try to push into his chest.

His lips don't leave mine. "Max . . ."

"Let go of my hands . . ."

"Mmm. . . Why . . ." He pokes his tongue out at the corners of my mouth.

I struggle against his firm grip while attempting to slow my breathing. "I want to try something. Pull in your wings. Fang . . . Let me go . . ."

With one more hard thrust, he pulls his wings tight against his back and releases my palms. I press them into his chest as he moves his hips back to go inside of me, getting him off balance. He stumbles. I bang into his waist and down he goes, heavily crashing to the ground. Keeping his head down with my hand pressing into the base of his throat and collarbone, I ride him at an uncharacteristically slow pace.

He opens his mouth to protest and my other hand blocks him from speaking. I shake my head. "Shh. It's my turn."

Fang squeezes my wrist, forcing my hand off his mouth and grabs me by the hair, yanking my lips down onto his. Letting go of my wrist – most likely with a mark on it – he runs his palm down my lower back, grasping the right side of my butt. It makes me move faster. There's this sinking feeling that he's going to try to flip me over. And that just can't happen.

I tear myself from his grasp, throwing my head back and closing my eyes. My wings open and I keep his chest down with my hands pressing into his muscles. I hear a small gasp come from Mr. Quiet. The hand that was in my hair falls down my neck to my breasts and I push my chest into his palm. I flap my wings like he did before, cooling us off a bit as the sweat starts to form. I feel a droplet slip down my cleavage, but his thumb catches it. I roll my hips faster at the low groans coming from Fang as he claws my lower back and behind. My hand goes to his throat, hovering my face over his.

Am I really hearing what I think I am? I lift my hips and fall down on him.

"Max!" He arches his back, blindly pulling my hair when it gets in his face.

"What was that?" I mock, painfully falling on him again, biting my lip so I don't make a sound.

He grunts, tugging on my hair with my name leaving his lips. "Max . . ."

"Louder," I smirk. "I can't hear you."

Slam! His mouth barely forms my name. Unacceptable. I crash onto him, rolling my hips in a huge motion. He gasps out my name. No. Not good enough. I want his voice to ricochet off these walls. I want him to yell. Make him totally give into me. Into pleasure. I clench my thighs on either side of his hips, riding him quicker, dropping down on him. He arches his neck with a terse groan.

"Fang . . ." I rub my chest against his, cooing into his ear. "Say my name. . ."

A strangled groan comes out of his mouth. He's stubborn. I'll have to break that. And I know I will. I rotate my hips, driving him in deeper. Fang's body arches, trying to hold back and give in at the same time. My nails claw down his chest, watching red marks trail down to the base of his ribs. The hand at his neck tenses a little and he gasps, squeezing my butt and one breast, feeling the half-crescents dig into my skin. I purr in the back of my throat, flapping my wings a little bit faster, starting to sweat even more. I hear him let loose a low growl involuntarily, the pleasure on his features now extraordinarily clear.

He hears my sound and moans my name over and over again, each time is louder. I grin, riding him faster at the intensifying volume of my name. I take one of his hands and move it to the apex of my thighs, making him press my clitoris with my eyes closed.

"MAX!" His husky yell is music to my ears. He sounds so urgent, so wrapped up in bliss. I mumble his name back to him, breathing hard, my hair sticking to my neck and forehead. I smell our sweat, feeling our hips slide, igniting more friction.

"Fang . . . Fang . . . I don't know. . ."

"Shh." A finger covers my lips. "Don't stop."

Two hands grasp my hips, lifting me up so he can drop me onto him roughly, controlling how deep he goes. I squeeze his wrists, crying out in pain from the irritated bruises. But it registers as pleasure. I fight him, moving at my own pace, my inner thighs getting the work out of their lives. He sighs loudly, submitting, but never letting go of my body. My muscles tighten up around him and I breathe erratically, his hand back at my clit. I refuse to climax first. Not while in control.

I snake a hand up his body into his damp hair, pulling while kissing him deeply and slowly. His lips stop moving with mine and he lets loose this un-Fang-like growl mixed with a scream mixed with my name. I puff on his neck and allow my body to be overtaken by pleasure. His name leaves my throat loudly and breathlessly, riding my high for as long as I can handle it until I collapse on top of him, panting. We're huffing like dogs, fighting to fill our lungs with the sex-filled air encompassing us. Our bodies radiate heat as the sweat drips down our necks, limbs and temples.

"Max . . ." Fang pulls out of me, getting comfortable, shifting me up his body so he can look me in the eyes.

"Mmm. . . Fang . . ." I murmur. "Oh my . . . Shit." He chuckles weakly.

"I know. . ." he trails a hand down my side, but his touch is tenderer than it was before, and less 'let-me-fuck-you-senseless'. Which he has succeeded in doing. I lay my head down on his sweaty chest, facing the entrance of our cave. The sun is setting. It's so pretty.

Oh my God. The sun is setting.

"Fang! Fang, we have to go! The sun is setting, the kids have to be worried, we're so late, oh my god!" I half-shout, struggling to get up. My legs seem not to want to cooperate. They wobble when I stand, supporting me only for a moment before sending me crashing back to the floor. I land on my ass, hard. Fang leans up on his elbow, smirking.

"Looks like you're not going anywhere any time soon." He tells me, reaching a hand out. "Come here. Just relax for a little longer. Iggy has things under control." I crawl back over and lay down beside him. He puts his hand on my hip, tracing the new bruises. I skim him with my eyes, taking in all the bites and hickies and scratches and bruises.

"We're pretty beaten up. It looks like we got attacked. It's gonna worry the kids." I know I'm ruining everything by bringing them up, but somehow I've catapulted back into Mom-mode and can't quite get out. He looks at me and sighs.

"Do you really want to go back?" he asks. I glance back out at the setting sun and encroaching darkness. Then in at him, so pale that he almost glows in the dusk of the cave. I'm torn. But I know what I have to do. I sigh too.

"I think we have to."

"I know."

We both struggle to our feet, him supporting me like I've never walked before. Slowly, the pain filters in. I mean, sure, I've had a lot worse. I'm just kind of achy. But it still sucks to the point of being noticeable.

Hobbling over to the other side of the cave, I begin to collect my clothes. My shirt is torn a little at the collar, and my underwear is ripped down the side. All in all, I got off pretty well. Fang, not so much. I tore the button off his pants and his shirt is pretty much destroyed, leaving him with very little in the way of clothing to return home with. He turns to me, his pants unbuttoned and his shirt in his hands.

"Can we sneak back in?" he asks, seemingly a bit embarrassed. Oh wow. Emotion. I'm flattered.

"Of course. Through my window. It should still be open. We'll be fine." I smile and hold out my hand. He tosses his ruined shirt over his shoulder and grabs my hand. We fly off into the looming dusk, towards our house.

Thank God, my window is still open. We creep in quietly, somehow making it in without attracting the attention of the entire household. After one last kiss, Fang opens my door to head down to his room and get some non-torn-to-shreds clothing. As the door is closing I hear a collision and

"Oh . . . hi, Iggy."

You've got to be kidding me.