I roll my hips and my back, and he starts to fuck me.
I never thought I’d feel this again. Maxim, my Maxim, fucking me with his thick cock, spreading me wide and taking me. Pleasure overwhelms and short-circuits my brain, sends sparks flying down my limbs. He fucks me faster, harder. My cheek hurts and stings, but I don’t care. He bites my shoulder, my nipples. He pulls my hair and takes me, and we’re both lost in a crazy cascade of need as our pent-up energy flares and burns white-hot.
I come moaning as he grips my hips. I come screaming as he growls his own pleasure and fills me to the brim. I moan and shudder and shake, blinking at the stars in my vision. His lips find mine, and fuck the bandage and the wound, I kiss him hard. He returns that kiss with enthusiasm, and he holds me there. We’re drenched in sweat, and all I want is to stay here like this forever.
“Welcome to my home,” he whispers with a smile.
I laugh and look around. “It’s, uh, lovely.”
“Thank you. I hired a decorator.”
“You hired a decorator? I honestly can’t imagine that.”
“I don’t have time to pick out chairs, princess.” He bites my earlobe. “I put all the clothes you left behind at the Kremlin upstairs. We can get you more things later.”
“I don’t want to go anywhere, if that’s okay. I just want to stay here with you.”
“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He kisses me softly. “But you need to see the doctor. Don’t fucking argue. That cut needs to be cleaned and stitched.”
I nod and chew my lip. “Yes, sir. You can be a real bossy asshole sometimes.”
“Get used to it.” He pulls me against him and holds me tight.
I stay like that, curled against his chest. I listen to his heart and his breathing, and I try to make myself believe that this is real and not some twisted dream. I’m not going to wake up to that dirty back room with my tear-stained pillow. I’m not going to drift through life thinking about him and wishing I were dead.
We’re here and that’s all I care about.
“I need you to know something,” he says low and gently.
“Yeah? Are you about to tell me how good I am in bed?”
“No, but you are stunning.”
“Thank you. Go on.”
“I have a plan. I think I know what I can give my father in exchange for letting us live. But you’re not going to like it.”
I shake my head and cuddle closer. “I don’t want to think about that right now.”
“I know, but we need to. We don’t have much time. The clock started the second I took you from The Velvet Rope and killed Zita. Now we’re in a race against my father.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll need to talk to your brothers. Is there any way they’ll help?”
I hesitate and think back to what Enzo said. His fear and his sorrow. “They’ll help.”
“I don’t think they’re going to like my plan either, but we’ll convince them.” He doesn’t sound so sure. I kiss his shoulder.
“I trust you.”
“Good.” He smiles and bites my collarbone before licking my nipples nice and slow. “Now, I haven’t had you in what feels like forever. I want to watch you ride my cock until you scream. Can you do that for me?”
“Only if you’re nice.”
“I’m always nice to you, princess. Now, we’d better get started. I’ll call the doctor when you’re done.”
“Yes, sir.” I push him back and straddle him. His cock’s already hard, and it doesn’t take much convincing to get me soaking wet again.
I arch my back, slide down his shaft, and get to work.
Chapter 28
Maxim
I watch Siena sleep in the darkness of the bedroom.
The townhouse is empty. The neighborhood’s quiet. I hear a car drive past playing loud, bass-heavy music, but otherwise the night is still as it disappears into the distance. Siena breaths deeply, wearing a thin t-shirt and panties. Her hips are like heaven and her ass is begging for my big palm, but I keep my hands to myself. She needs rest. I watch the gentle curve of her spine and gently, so gently, run my fingers through her thick hair, just touching the ends. I want to be close to her, but I can’t sleep.
The doctor said she’d be okay. He gave her stitches and some antibiotic cream. She’ll need to keep the wound dressed and cleaned, and she’ll have to be careful eating and talking so the stitches don’t rip, but otherwise he thinks it’ll heal just fine. There’ll be a scar, but what’s that matter?
My body’s littered with more scars than I can count.
I gently brush her hair back. She’s so perfect in the moonlight. I hate what Zita did to her—and I hate myself for failing to protect her. I’ll never make that mistake again. I’ll make sure she knows how beautiful I think she is every day of her life. No scar will ever change that.