“Max, you’re bleeding. Oh, my god.” She moves to get off the table, but I slam her back.
Blood trickles from my hand, staining my white dress shirt and dripping onto the floor.“Do as you’re told, Malishka.”
“Maxim, you’re bleeding. Let me look at it.”
The pieces of glass shatter on the floor as I open my fist, abandoning the wine glass. “I’m fine.”
“You’re certifiable, that’s what you are.”
I grit my teeth. My bloody hand circles her slender neck. “I am, Malishka. So do as you’re told.”
Samira’s lips twitch, and she smiles. I fucking love seeing it. When I first found her, she was haunted by her past trauma. Back then, when we had sex, it was plagued with memories of the past. The passionate and volatile sex we enjoyed was tainted.
But now, when I grab her throat, she doesn’t flinch. The lingering fear in her eyes is gone. This is my Samira, and I’m her Max. Pride surges through me, knowing she trusts me. She knows I’d rather burn in the hottest pits in hell before I ever hurt her.
I bend and gaze into her hazel eyes. “I love you, Malishka. You’re the rising sun in the darkness.”
I crush my lips to hers like a crashing wave. Deranged, demanding, and determined. I need her to understand that my desperation for her is all-consuming. Kissing her is the flavor of my salvation, my hope, and my constant light. My heart beats erratically with relief that she’s here with me, safe.
She sighs as I cradle her face and deepen our kiss. “Are you going to be all mushy or fuck me?”
I abandon her face. Her breath hitches as I circle her throat. I hate how much I enjoy having the power to control her, to cut off her breath if I choose, but it makes me hard as steel. There’s a sick longing to harm her while I fuck her. To degrade her and praise her. To make her beg for my cock to rail her until she can’t think straight.
Maybe in another universe, we would be that couple who recites poetry as they make sweet love, but that world wasn’t the one we came up in. Our world was full of blood, murder, and nightmares. The only hope we’ve ever found is in each other.
“Such a greedy whore, baby. Tell me, Malishka, what is it you want?”
“I wanted a nice Christmas Eve dinner with my husband, but now I want you to fuck me.”
“Not yet, Malishka. I still haven’t had dessert.”
Chapter 2
Samira
He’s deranged, lethal, and volatile. And he’s mine. Being with a man like Maxim should frighten me, especially after all I’ve been through. Men in positions of power are unkind and harmful, and even though Max isn’t gentle with my body, he is with my heart.
To others, the sex we have might seem wrong, depraved, sick, and twisted, but to me, it’s soothing. I don’t know how to have sex any other way. It’s almost too overwhelming for me emotionally, and not in a good way. I need the violence in order to have control.
In the past, it hasn’t been in my control, but with Max, no matter what he does to me, I understand that I’m the one with the power. He’ll move at my pace and only act on my emotions, words, and needs. But something within me enjoys it when he’s unhinged, uninhibited, and animalistic.
His gray eyes peer down at me as his blood-stained hands grip the top of my dress. His lips pull into an arrogant smile, and the sound of tearing fabric echoes in the room.
“That dress was thirty thousand dollars. What the hell?”
“It’s a useless covering. Keeping my eyes from my priceless work of art.”
He moves down my exposed flesh, groping my breasts in his large hands. I smile as I gaze at the tattoo on his ring finger. He snaps my bra, and it flaps to my side. “I could gaze at you for the rest of my days and never tire of your beauty, Malishka. Do you have any idea how stunning you are?”
I look away, focusing on the abstract art on the wall.
A growl. He grips my jaw and forces my gaze back to him. “Don’t do that. Don’t turn away from me. I never want you to look away from me. Tell me you’re beautiful, Malishka. Tell me how perfect my wife is.”
I remain quiet, not feeling the words he demands from me. Over the years, Max has worked on my insecurities, usually during sex. Moments when I let my guard down, and my past isn’t lurking in the shadows. My breasts sting from his firm slap.
“You can tell me what I want to hear, or I can turn these sexy tits black and blue. Pick your poison, Samira.”
I answer him with a snide smile. “What makes you think the latter isn’t the prize?”