23. Maxim
TWENTY-THREE
MAXIM
“ I love you, Maxim,” she whispers into my ear, her voice breathy with need. Her body clenches around me, the sensation almost too much to bear. Each thrust brings her closer to the edge, her breath catching with every movement. The heels of her feet dig into my ass, urging me deeper, harder.
“Faster,” she begs, her voice raw, and I comply. The command sparks something primal inside me. I love when she opens up, when she tells me exactly what she wants. She was so shy when we first met, her cheeks reddening at the mere mention of sex. But now, seeing her unravel in front of me, watching her blossom—it’s everything I never knew I needed.
Her back arches, her full breasts bouncing with each movement. I can’t resist leaning down to kiss her, my tongue trailing over her nipple, savoring the taste of her skin. The sound of her moans is the sweetest music, a symphony of pleasure I could lose myself in.
Heat spreads through my veins as I pick up my pace, ramming into her with abandon. The rhythm consumes me, my mind fogged by the heat of the moment. I’m losing control, but in this moment, it feels right. She shakes with every thrust, her body trembling beneath me, and I take pleasure in watching her, in knowing I’m the one who can make her feel this way.
The sweat clings to our bodies, the air thick with the scent of us as we both reach our release. I stay inside her for a moment, our breath mingling as we pant. Her soft chuckle breaks the silence, and I lift my head to look at her.
“What’s so funny?”
“I’m a thirty-year-old woman who just got fucked like a horny teenager in her mother’s bathroom.”
“It was my pleasure,” I say with a wink, but my thoughts are scattered. What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t stop smiling as I watch her, feeling a sense of pride at how far she has come.
She moves to clean herself up, but I stop her, grabbing her wrist before she can reach for the tissue. An idea sparks in my mind—one I wasn’t planning on executing yet, but now feels like the right time. I grip her wrist tighter as she tries to pull away.
“You won’t clean yourself,” I say, my voice low, an edge of authority in it.
She glares at me, her voice laced with annoyance. “And why the hell not?”
I shift, zipping up my pants, and reach into my pocket, pulling out the velvet bag that holds a vibrator and remote control. A wicked grin stretches across my face as I watch her eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dancing in them. She can try to deny it, but I know what she wants. Her eyes always tell the truth.
“Open your legs, krasavitsa.”
She hesitates a moment longer than I expect, and doubt creeps in. My chest tightens with uncertainty—am I pushing too far? Her family is outside. What the hell was I thinking? This wasn’t supposed to happen here. I promised myself I wouldn’t lose her, not like this.
Before I can say anything, the movement of her legs spreading open eases my worry. She wants this. A deep breath escapes, relief washing over me. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, and my heart stutters in my chest. The word rings in my mind, and I realize how much I crave it. “Sir.” The thought lingers, making my pulse race.
I get closer, guiding her legs wider with my hands, anticipation humming through me. Her eyes stay locked on mine, watching every movement, every touch. There’s no doubt now—she wants this as much as I do.
Her legs spreading wide push all my self-doubt aside. She wants this. A breath of relief escapes me—how could I have ever doubted it? “Yes, sir.” Her voice is soft but undeniably breathy, sending a jolt of heat through my veins. The word echoes in my head, and my heart stutters in response. Sir. The first time she has ever called me that. Something about it makes my pulse race, a possessive streak in me coming alive in ways I can’t fully control. A man could get used to this kind of treatment.
I move closer, spreading her legs further, anticipation humming through me. Her eyes don’t flinch away; they lock with mine, full of curiosity and something darker. Her breath hitches as I slowly slide the toy inside her, the motion deliberate and teasing. I circle her clit with my other hand, savoring the breathy moans she can’t seem to contain.
When I’m done, I grab her waist, pulling her to her feet. She shuffles, testing the sensation, her movements uncertain. There is a moment of hesitation, and then she bends to grab her clothes. I press the button four times. The sound that escapes her lips is a gasp, sharp and needy. She stands abruptly, her back hitting the shelves with a soft thud. The shelves rattle, but I stop them before anything falls.
“Clumsiness equals punishment,” I murmur, my lips curling into a grin. This—this is what I want. I press the button again, the sensation pulsing through her. She groans, her legs crossing instinctively as the pressure builds. Her face flushes, her chest rising and falling in a frantic rhythm.
A few more presses, and she bends over, gripping the sink so hard, her knuckles turn white. Her moans grow louder, more desperate. I relish in the control, in the way she submits to me so freely, but I wait, holding back until her breath becomes erratic. When she’s right there, on the edge, I stop.
Her groan is full of frustration, and she glares at me, her gaze fierce.
She was so close. I know it. I can feel it in the tension of her body and in the way she shakes. But I’m not done yet. I flash a wide, mischievous grin back at her, returning her annoyance with my own sense of satisfaction.
I glance at my watch. “Get dressed, Sophia. Your family is probably wondering where we are.”
She rolls her eyes, but there’s a playfulness in her expression I haven’t seen before. Quickly, she dresses, and we step outside the bathroom. I’m expecting someone to be waiting, but as we make our way through the house, no one seems to be nearby.
As I reach for the sliding door handle, Sophia’s body stiffens beside me. I squeeze her hand, leaning in slightly. “They don’t matter. No one outside that door matters. Only you and me.”
Her hand tightens around mine, a deep breath leaving her lips as she nods. For a moment, we just stand there, the weight of everything hanging between us. I know she’s struggling, that her walls are up, but I wish she’d let them fall more easily. The way she holds herself around her family—guarded, distant—makes my stomach twist. What have they done to her?
I want to kill them. The thought lingers, raw and unrefined, but I swallow it down. I can’t help her if I let my anger control me.
Finally, she speaks, her voice confident despite the tension. “Ready.”
I nod without saying anything and open the door. We walk across the yard, her hand firmly clasped in mine. She doesn’t look anywhere but straight ahead, shoulders squared like she’s preparing for battle. I, on the other hand, can’t help but scan the area. A few people glance our way as we make our way to the far corner of the yard, where a young brunette with long hair is sitting at a table, her eyes glued to her phone.
“Hey,” Sophia greets her, taking a seat.
“Welcome back,” the woman says, turning to face me. “So, you’re the new attraction everyone’s been buzzing about.” She chuckles, and I can’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. I’ve never had so much attention on me, never been the center of so much curiosity.
“We should charge them,” Sophia says, her eyes twinkling with humor as she pats my hand.
“A hundred dollars,” I reply with a smirk. “I’m sure they’d pay that and more.”
Her cousin, I assume, winks at me. “They’d pay more if you take your shirt off.”
“Why do I feel like cattle being sold off?” I joke, placing my hand on my chest in mock indignation. “Have you guys even looked at me? I’m worth at least three hundred per person.”
They both burst into laughter, and I can’t help but join them. Sophia’s relaxed now, smiling, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep that smile on her face. If I have to make a fool of myself to keep her at ease, then so be it.
The girl extends her arm with a grin. “The name’s Steff. I’m Sophia’s favorite cousin.”
I shake her hand firmly. “Nice to meet you, Steff. Maxim. Sophia’s favorite arm candy.”
Sophia lets out a snort of laughter, and the sound wraps around me like a warm embrace. As much as I love hearing her moan, her laughter? That’s the real victory. Nothing beats knowing I’m the one who made her smile.
“I like you already,” Steff says, looking between Sophia and me with a playful glint in her eyes.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I reply, the words genuine. The interactions I’ve seen between Sophia and her family have been the most real I’ve witnessed in her life. They seem close—authentically close.
I lean in slightly, lowering my voice to a whisper, “If I go on a killing spree today, don’t worry. She’ll be safe.”
Sophia glances at me, her lips curling slightly as she replies in the same low tone, “Good, because she’s the only one I’d care if you killed.”
Just as I’m about to respond, Steff’s voice cuts through the air. “What are you two lovebirds whispering about over there?”
“Nothing,” Sophia says quickly, her face flushing. At the same time, I mutter, “My killing tendencies.”
Sophia’s eyes widen, her heart rate quickening as she tries to cover her anxiety with a forced laugh. “He’s such a jokester,” she says, her tone too light to be convincing. She smacks my chest, and I stifle my amusement, pressing my hand over my mouth.
Steff leans back in her chair, arms outstretched, and shrugs. “Hey, if you want to end these fuckers for bullying Sophia, I’ll gladly help you.”
The words hit me like a slap to the face. My body tenses, my breath catching in my throat. My jaw clenches, and I force myself to stay still. Bullying? These people bullied her? A flash of an eight-year-old Sophia, curled up in bed with tear-streaked cheeks, hovers before my eyes. The image burns in my chest, threatening to choke me. My fists clench tight, the nails digging into my skin, the sting a sharp reminder I have to control myself.
She’s too good for this. Sophia’s heart is gold, pure and untainted, and no one—not even the people who should have protected her—deserves to have her in their lives. They’ve tainted her spirit, broken her trust. The fury within me swells, but I hold it in, my body rigid with the effort.
Sophia is speaking again, but I don’t hear her at first. The blood pounding in my ears drowns out everything else. It takes several deep breaths, slowly exhaling the rage that threatens to explode before I catch the last word of her sentence.
“Dance?” I repeat, my voice hoarse with the restraint.
She nods, her eyes soft, a quiet question in her gaze. “Would you like to dance?”
I blink several times, shaking myself out of my anger-fueled haze, realizing Sophia is standing with her hand outstretched, waiting for me to take it. Across the yard, her cousin is distracted, grabbing food. How long have I been lost in my thoughts?
Sophia’s voice breaks through my fog. “Isn’t it supposed to be the man who asks the woman to dance?” She places her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes, amusement dancing across her features.
I raise an eyebrow. “When did we turn back time to the eighteen hundreds?” She laughs, and I can’t help but join her. Standing, I take her hand.
“Lead the way, my lady.”
A triumphant grin spreads across her face, and that smile—that smile —melts away the anger still simmering in me, leaving me relaxed and calm. We join a small group already dancing in the middle of the yard. The moment we step in, I feel the weight of the eyes on us. Sophia, however, doesn’t seem to care; her expression is relaxed and unbothered, and she keeps her gaze locked on mine. It’s as if the world around us has faded into nothingness, leaving just the two of us. The soft intro of a piano melody wraps around us like a warm embrace, drawing us into our own private bubble.
“What are you smiling at?” she asks, her voice light with curiosity.
“Let’s give your family a show.” A wicked grin spreads across my face.
She arches an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” But before she can press further, I pull her into me, the rush of air escaping her lips followed by a delighted laugh. When she’s positioned exactly where I want her, I place my left hand at the small of her back, and she places her right hand on my shoulder. With my right hand, I take hers, and we begin to move together.
Her movements are fluid and easy as we fall into rhythm, our bodies swaying in time to the music. The world fades as we lose ourselves in the moment, our bodies connected, the music guiding us, the tension of earlier vanishing entirely. Her chocolate-brown eyes shine, and that smile of hers widens, lighting up her face.
I can’t help myself. I start singing along to the song, my voice steady but my heart racing with the joy of having her in my arms.
She smiles softly and starts singing the Spanish part of the song, her voice blending with mine. She’s completely lost in the moment, happy, carefree—like nothing in the past few months matters.
I twirl then dip her, my lips brushing hers in a quick, passionate kiss before I lift her back up, her eyes sparkling with pure happiness.
The ring that has been nestled in my pocket for months feels like it’s weighing a thousand pounds. This moment feels perfect, but not with an audience. I know when I do ask her to marry me, she’ll want it to be just us, no one else around. The thought weighs heavily on me, but I push it to the back of my mind for now.
I connect my forehead to hers, breathing in the scent of her skin, making this moment feel even more intimate. Her eyes flutter open, meeting mine.
“You look beautiful, Sophia.”
A soft pink blush rises on her cheeks, and I can’t resist pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, my lips lingering for a moment before I pull back.
“You’re not too shabby yourself, Volkov.”
“That’s the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me,” I joke, allowing the words to hang between us on a playful edge.
She slaps my chest lightly. “Your ego is already bigger than this planet. We can’t have it growing any more. What would be left for the rest of us?”
“Oh God, no, we can’t have that.”
“I’m glad you understand the conundrum,” she says, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
“I do understand. You’re such a caring person. Thank you for your due diligence. I’ll have a Medal of Honor made for your contributions to this Earth right away.”
She feigns excitement, placing her hand dramatically over her chest. “A medal?” she exclaims. “That is such an honor. I’ll cherish it and guard it with my life.” Her voice drops lower, and she bites her bottom lip. “Will that be the only reward I’ll receive?”
Her lips part slightly, and she presses her body closer to mine. The contact has my cock jerking awake in my pants, a visceral reaction that’s impossible to ignore.
“What else did you have in mind?” My voice lowers an octave, thick with unspoken promises.
She looks at me through her lashes, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “If I have to tell you, it wouldn’t be a reward anymore, would it?”
“You sure you want to leave such responsibilities to an egotistical man like me?” I whisper in her ear, my breath warm against her skin. Goosebumps appear on her neck, and I can’t help but watch as her body reacts to me.
“There’s no one better than you to be responsible for such a reward.” The words leave her mouth with a hint of challenge, and I feel my cock pressing harder against my pants. It’s getting harder to concentrate on anything other than ripping her clothes off right here.
“Danny,” Sophia squeaks in surprise, her blush deepening as if she’s been caught doing something naughty. Her reaction makes me chuckle, my amusement cutting through the tension.
“If you two are done dancing, we’d like to cut your sister’s cake now, Sophia.” The tone Danny uses and the way he says her name has my body tensing instinctively. To anyone else, it might seem casual, but to me, it sounds like a predator circling its prey. I turn my body, placing myself between Sophia and him, shielding her from whatever threat he might represent.
I size him up. He’s two inches shorter than me, probably in his late thirties, with slicked-back black hair that screams arrogance. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes—it’s vicious, not friendly.
“To my understanding, it’s considered rude to cut a cake when,” I make a dramatic show of looking around the backyard, “there are still people dancing and eating. Not to mention, it’s very disrespectful to interrupt a conversation between two adults. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”
Danny’s jaw ticks, the facade cracking, and I allow myself a small, satisfied smirk. He doesn’t like being called out.
“Hi, Danny.” Sophia’s voice breaks the tension as she steps forward to stand at my side. Her body’s stiff, her energy uneasy. I drape my arm over her shoulder, pulling her in , letting her feel the protective barrier I’ve created around her.
Danny’s mask returns almost immediately. It’s so subtle, Sophia doesn’t notice it, but to someone like me—a monster in the art of masks—it’s glaringly obvious.
“This is Maxim, my boyfriend.” She glances up at me, her eyes worried, but she tries to mask it with a soft smile.
We shake hands, the contact cold and businesslike. The small talk that follows is forced, each word thick with unspoken tension. I try to remain civil, but the desire to take a swing at this guy is overwhelming. I’m not sure if it’s the way he looks at Sophia or the condescending aura radiating off him, but either way, I don’t trust him, not for a second.
We make our way back to our seats, and as soon as we’re seated, I can’t help but ask the question that has been gnawing at me.
“Who is he?” I whisper, my eyes not leaving Danny, watching him like a hawk.
“Who?” Sophia looks up from her piece of cake, not quite following my train of thought, expecting someone else to be standing in front of us.
“Danny.”
She puts down the spoon, turning to face me fully. “He’s a long, complicated story.” She pauses for a moment, her eyes distant as she gathers her thoughts.
“Danny was Jenny’s first boyfriend. They had this…toxic, intense relationship. They loved each other; I can’t deny that. You could see it when they weren’t yelling at each other. When they were happy, it was like…a fairytale. They were inseparable, the best of friends. People wanted what they had, but no one saw how much they drained the life out of everyone around them.” She exhales sharply, as if the mere thought of them exhausts her.
“My whole family loved him, especially my mom.” The shift in her tone makes my stomach tighten. There’s a history there, something unspoken but heavy. My instincts scream to dig deeper, but I force myself to stay quiet, to let her tell it in her own time.
“He was part of the family, going on trips with us, spending every holiday with us. He didn’t have a good relationship with his own family, so my mom practically adopted him. He stayed at our house all the time, in the guest room—every single night.” She shakes her head, as if trying to rid herself of a bad memory.
The tension in my body rises, my nails digging into my palms. I want to act on the rage I feel building inside me, to march over to that bastard and make him regret ever laying a hand on her, but I control it; the thought of making a scene in front of her family keeps me in check. There’s something about him—something I can’t yet put my finger on—but I can feel it deep in my bones. He did something to her.
She stares down at her cake, her focus lost in the past. “It was always me and Dad who were hesitant around him.”
That’s the confirmation I needed. The blood starts to rush in my ears, anger surging through my veins. I swallow hard, forcing myself to keep calm. I want answers, need them.
“They broke up after Jenny got accidentally pregnant by her now-husband. Danny kept coming around after that, using the excuse that he was just helping my mom out, but once he found out about the pregnancy, he stopped showing up.”
I lean forward, my voice low but filled with a dangerous calm. “What did he do to you?”
Sophia goes pale at my question, her eyes shifting uncomfortably.
“What do you mean?” she whispers.
“What did he fucking do to you?” My voice drops a shade darker, quieter, but it’s full of intent. I need to hear her say it, to know what he did so I can understand the depths of the damage.
She hesitates, her throat tight, as if the words are too much to bear. Then, finally, she speaks.
“He didn’t?—”
I cut her off, my voice low but sharp, like a blade. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence and insult me by lying to my face.”
I take a slow breath, fighting to calm the rage coursing through my veins. “I won’t ask you again, Sophia. What did he do to you?”
Her shoulders sag, the weight of the past crushing her, sadness and anger reflected in her eyes. The raw emotion in her gaze shreds something inside me.
“He helped pull pranks on me. He stood by Jenny’s side, egging her on when she was on one of her rampages, throwing harsher comments my way. He was just as cruel as she was. The only one who believed me was my dad. My mom would just shrug it off, saying it was a ‘kid thing.’” Her voice fades, and she stares down at her hands, her body tense with the weight of everything unsaid.
She falls silent, and the air thickens with pain. I can feel the heaviness in the room, the rawness of what she just shared. And while I know there’s more to this story, I can’t bring myself to push any further.
Guilt gnaws at me for forcing her to relive this, but I know I can’t back down. Not now, not when I’ve learned enough to know there’s more to the story.
I press my lips into a thin line, my jaw clenched tight. Danny’s name is now on my list.
Somehow, someday, Sophia’s sister is going to pay for all the damage she has done to her. And anyone who had a hand in hurting her—every last one of them—will fucking pay.