Chapter 30 #2
As she pulls away, I can see the deep worry etched across Calina’s face. Her brows are furrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. She looks like she’s barely holding herself together.
I brush my knuckle against the skin of her face. “Don’t worry, Calina. I know what I’m doing.”
She steps away. “How can I not worry?” she says, voice cracking. “You’re planning to go after Dmitri alone. This is clearly a trap, Maxim. Please… don’t do it. If you have to go, at least take people with you. Or find a way to lure him out instead of walking into whatever he’s planning.”
I step closer, but she keeps talking, now tearing up, her words tumble out faster. “Why won’t you listen to me? Why do you want to get yourself killed? Do you not even care about me? Do you not care what I say? Do you not care what happens to me if something goes wrong?”
Her words hit me like a knife to the chest. I close the distance in two strides, crowding her against the wall. One hand comes up to graze her cheek, my thumb brushing over her soft skin, then sliding down to cup the side of her neck. I can feel her pulse racing under my fingers.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl, voice rough with emotion.
“I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anything in my life.
I’m doing all of this for you. As long as Dmitri and Adrian are still out there, I live in fear for your safety.
I won’t let you live your life looking over your shoulder.
I won’t let anyone threaten what’s mine. ”
My other hand slides down her side, gripping her waist, pulling her flush against me. I lean in, lips brushing her ear as I continue, my voice dropping lower. “You are everything to me, Calina. My wife. My queen. My life. I would burn the whole world down before I let anything happen to you.”
She trembles under my touch, her breath catching. I graze my fingers along her neck again, then tilt her chin up so she has to look at me.
“I love you,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them. They feel raw. Real. Terrifying in how true they are, and for a moment I wonder if she feels the same way. But then I don’t care, I can love her for the both of us.
Her eyes widen in shock for a heartbeat, then a beautiful, glowing smile breaks across her face like she’s been waiting for me to say it all this time.
She links her arms around my neck, pulling me down to her. “I love you too, Maxim,” she whispers against my lips.
The words hit me like lightning. I kiss her deeply, hungrily, pouring everything I feel into it. When we break apart for air, I rest my forehead against hers.
“Say it again, baby,” I murmur, my voice thick. “I need to hear it again.”
“I love you, Maxim,” she breathes, her fingers threading through my hair.
I groan and kiss her again, harder this time. “Again.”
She pulls my head down, kissing me with equal passion. Against my lips, she whispers, “I love you, Maxim Orlov.”
I crush her against me, my hands roaming her body as I reply, voice rough with emotion, “I love you too, Calina Orlova. More than you’ll ever know.”
One hand cupping the back of her neck, I kiss her deeply. It’s not the frantic, punishing kind we’ve had before. This is slower, heavier, like I’m trying to pour every unspoken word into her mouth. Because I am.
My tongue strokes against hers, tasting the sweetness that’s become so familiar, so necessary. She melts into me with a soft sound that goes straight to my cock.
My other hand slides down her body, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hip. I pull back just enough to look at her, breathing hard.
“Raise your dress for me,” I murmur against her lips.
She obeys, her hands trembling slightly as she gathers the fabric and lifts it up to her waist. The sight of her, lace panties already damp, thighs pressed together, makes me groan.
I hook my fingers into the thin material and rip them off in one sharp tug. She gasps, but her eyes are dark with the same need I feel.
I free myself from my pants, my cock hard and aching.
I lift her with ease, her back against the wall, her legs wrapping around my waist. She trusts me completely to hold her, her arms looping around my neck.
I line myself up and push into her slowly, inch by inch, savoring the tight, wet heat that grips me.
“Fuck… baby,” I groan, forehead pressed to hers. “You feel so good. So perfect.”
I start moving, deep and unhurried strokes that make her whimper.
Every thrust presses her back against the wall, her breasts brushing my chest through her dress.
I kiss her again, slower this time, then trail my mouth down her neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive spot that always makes her shiver.
She moans my name, her hips rocking to meet me. “Maxim… I love you.”
Those words undo me. I thrust deeper, grinding against her with every stroke, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out. Her walls flutter around me, tighter and tighter. I feel her start to tremble, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“Come for me, malyshka,” I rasp against her ear. “Let me feel you.”
She comes with a broken cry, her body clenching around me, pulsing so hard it drags me right over the edge with her. I bury myself deep and spill inside her, groaning her name as pleasure crashes through me.
We stay like that for a long moment, breathing hard, bodies locked together. I kiss her softly, tenderly, before carrying her to the bathroom. We shower together under the hot spray, my hands gentle as I wash her. She leans against me, languid and trusting.
Later, after she’s dried off and applying her skincare, I slip downstairs and pour her a glass of juice. I crush a mild sleeping tablet into it, watching it dissolve completely.
Guilt twists in my chest. I hate doing this to her. She deserves better than being drugged by her own husband. But I can’t risk her trying to stop me tonight. She’ll worry herself sick if I leave while she’s awake.
I go back upstairs and hand her the glass. “You must be thirsty.”
She smiles, trusting me completely, and downs the entire glass. “Thank you.”
I kiss her deeply, then help her into bed. She curls against me, already drifting off. I hold her for a while, stroking her hair, memorizing the feel of her in my arms.
“I’m sorry, malyshka,” I whisper against her forehead. “But I have to do this.”
Once she’s out like a light, I slip out of bed, dress quickly, and gear up, guns, knife, extra magazines. I text Dmitri: I’m on my way.
Downstairs, I’m not surprised to find Viktor waiting, already armed and dressed for war.
“I’m sorry, boss,” he says grimly. “There’s no way I’m letting you go alone. Me and a few of the men will hang back. We’ll be there if you need backup.”
I nod. I don’t have the energy to argue. “Fine.”
We head out into the night.
Viktor glances at me as we drive. “So Calina finally let you go?”
I shake my head. “No. I made sure she was asleep before I left. She would have tried to stop me.”
Viktor lets out a low chuckle. “She’s going to kill you when she wakes up. If Dmitri and Adrian don’t kill us first.”
I let out a chuckle. I know he’s right. But I will deal with her later.