Chapter Eighteen
Worth Every Second
Juliet
R AGE SIMMERED IN me, and I worked to tamp it down. I would not show him how he affected me. I would not feed his unreal, massive ego by letting him see how crushed I was. I would not be pathetic and weak by begging him to keep me.
“Is that what you want?” I asked.
It was his turn to be confused. Or play dumb, I wasn’t sure which. “What?”
“Did you bring me there to scare me away?” My hold on my temper slipped, and I shook with anger. “Were you hoping I’d go running because you didn’t have the balls—”
“Watch yourself, Juliet.”
“Go to hell.”
His eyes narrowed. “Been there all night, worrying you’d change your mind when you saw what I do.”
That stole some fire from my belly, but I clutched to it. Anger was easier than sadness. It was a hell of a lot safer than hope.
I crossed my arms. “Why would a few boxing matches make me change my mind?”
“Those weren’t regular fights,” he pointed out.
“Pshh. I’ve seen worse.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked. “The whole setup is illegal.”
“Again, I’ve seen worse.”
He lifted his hand to count off, raising one tattooed finger after each item. “Minimal rules. Drugs. Women.”
I lifted my hand and counted right back. “I’ve. Seen. Worse.”
“Christ, what kind of life have you had?” he muttered, his own fire burning in his eyes.
“Not a good one. Not until you.”
The words were out before I could think. Vulnerable and raw, I wanted to inhale them back. I needed to keep my pride—it was the only thing I had.
Maximo’s body went tight, his face so scarily blank, my brain screamed at me to look away. To run.
But I couldn’t.
He started talking, his voice even and cold. “The fights aren’t the worst thing I do.”
“You act like this is the first time I’ve seen you do something illegal. Are you forgetting how we met?”
“I want to make sure you know that wasn’t a single blip in an otherwise saintly life.”
I hated to think about that night. It put me in a dark place—but not for the reason it should’ve. I’d locked the memory deep inside, and I’d rather it never saw the light of day.
But I forced myself to talk about it for the first time. “The night we met, you made it unmistakably clear who you are and what you do. But I’m still here. With you. Because of you.”
His dark eyes glittered as he rubbed his hand across his jaw.
Thumb dragging across his bottom lip, his voice was low with warning.
“Make sure you know what you’re saying, little dove.
I’ll control you. Completely. Every damn aspect of your entire life.
You’ll follow my rules. When you break them, I’ll punish you until you hate me and then fuck you until you don’t.
” As he stalked toward me, I stood my ground.
It made his lips twist into something between a smirk and a sneer. “Too stubborn for your own good.”
My heart raced, slamming so loudly, it should’ve echoed around us. My stomach was a tight knot, my thoughts were racing, and my blood rushed in my ears.
And I was wet.
So unbelievably, stupidly wet.
Gripping my waist in one hand, he speared his other into my hair, twisting the strands as he fisted it. He tugged my head back, making my scalp sting. “I’ll take care of you until you’re just as wrapped up and addicted to me as I am to you.”
No hesitation. No bracing. No thoughts or worries or pride.
Automatic and honest, I whispered, “I already am, Daddy.”
The cold, aloofness he’d carried himself with all day was gone. Like his blank mask had been torn away, lust, happiness, and relief flowed unencumbered across his face.
He’d been worried.
That was the desperation in his kiss. The distance he’d placed between us.
He’d been scared I’d leave.
He doesn’t want to lose me.
Mouth crashing down on mine, his tongue didn’t tease my lips, coaxing them open. It forced its way in, taking what he wanted. What was his. What I’d willingly given.
When he released my hair to palm my ass and lift, I wrapped my legs around him. He tore his lips away like it physically hurt, and I whimpered, stretching to get them back.
“Not going to risk falling down the damn steps and hurting you,” he explained, starting up them.
Since his mouth wasn’t an option, I kissed, licked, and nipped at his throat and jaw.
“Fuck me, you’re gonna make me shoot off in my pants.”
There was something so heady about knowing the effect I had on a man who was as controlled as Maximo. A shiver went through me, and I bit harder, making him groan.
Speeding up, he carried me to his room, unlocking the door and letting it slam behind us as he lowered me. My feet had barely touched the floor when he kissed me, his large hands cupping the sides of my head.
It was possessive and dominating and intense.
Just like Maximo.
Ending the kiss, he took a step away so he could untie my belt.
His fingertips teased my thighs as he gathered the material of my skirt and lifted the dress over my head, leaving me in my bra, panties, and heels.
His searing gaze started at my feet and slowly moved up, as though he were trying to memorize each freckle, dip, and curve of my body.
Shrugging off his jacket, he dropped it to the floor with my dress. He toed off his shoes before ordering, “Undress me.”
I hesitated, unsure my shaking fingers could undo a single button, much less the line of them.
“Once I have you naked, I won’t have the patience to strip. So unless you want me to fuck you while I’m fully clothed, I suggest you undress me. Now, Juliet.”
I liked the visual he created—and the swirl of need it created—but I wanted to see and feel all of him.
My shaking fingers managed the buttons before pushing the shirt off his broad shoulders.
God, he was beautiful. Each cut line. Bumped ridge. Splash of color. Even the marks that marred his skin—the puckered scars and faded slashes—added to his perfection.
I undid his belt and slacks, letting them drop before glancing up at him.
“Everything, little dove.”
Happily, I shoved his black boxer briefs down. His chiseled pelvic muscles led to neatly trimmed dark hair and a hard cock that was as mouthwatering as the rest of him.
Holy shit.
Maximo kicked the bunched fabric to the side before adding his socks to the pile, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his intimidatingly impressive erection.
This explains why he’s so damn arrogant. He’s got enough to back it up.
And then some.
Total Big Dick Energy.
After removing my bra, Maximo knelt in front of me to undo the delicate straps of my shoes. I stepped out of them before he hooked his thumbs in the sides of my panties and slowly slid them down my legs.
“Christ, you’re perfection,” he murmured before leaning forward to kiss the sensitive skin under my navel.
But one small kiss wasn’t enough.
Dipping lower, he parted my legs and pressed his mouth against me. His tongue darted out to taste, his groan vibrating through me.
Holy shit.
Holy shit.
I clutched his head, partially to keep from falling but mostly to keep his mouth locked on me.
When he pulled away, I wanted to yank him back and demand he finish what he started. But at the fire in his hooded eyes, I knew it was just the beginning.
And the best was yet to come.
Standing, he kissed me again, my taste on his tongue. He backed me up but my small, shuffling steps must’ve taken too long because he lifted me. When my back hit the mattress, Maximo covered my body with his. His arms supported him and his abs pressed between my spread thighs.
His mouth left mine to tease my neck, his lips softly kissing before he bit hard enough to make me cry out. Hard enough to make me wetter.
Hard enough to leave his mark.
Continuing down, he licked, kissed, sucked, and nipped my breast, his skillful mouth touching everywhere but my nipple. Each time I arched and shifted, silently demanding what I needed, he moved farther away and started the process again.
He’s killing me.
Finally, the very tip of his tongue swirled around the hardened peak. My breath caught, and I gripped the sheets to keep from moving, but he didn’t give me more. The light touch of his tongue was more torment than relief.
No, I’m gonna kill him.
I hadn’t realized I’d spoken the words out loud until Maximo replied, “If this is the way I leave this world, little dove, it’d be the perfect death.”
Whatever retort I may have scrambled together was lost and forgotten when he sucked my nipple. His teeth scraped across the sensitive skin as he slowly pulled away before sucking it in harder, his tongue swirling.
No amount of control could stop my hips from grinding against him. I didn’t care that I was soaked. I didn’t care that I was rubbing all that wetness on him.
I didn’t even care that he could feel it.
All that mattered was easing the ache that grew low in my belly.
“Jesus,” Maximo bit out, moving suddenly.
I braced, worried I’d done something wrong, but he just shifted down the bed so his head was between my legs.
He didn’t tease as he had with my breasts.
His thumbs spread my lower lips and he speared his tongue in.
Deep and rough, he groaned like he was the one receiving pleasure after being tormented.
My legs trembled, trying to close. I wasn’t sure whether it was to get away from the intensity or to hold him in place.
His hands moved to grip my inner thighs, keeping me open so he could eat me.
Devour me.
In tune with me and my body, he knew exactly how to build the tension while keeping me teetering on an edge that rose higher and higher.
I’d never experienced such a beautifully frustrating pleasure.
Sliding a hand up my thigh, he eased a finger in. Then another, stretching me. With his mouth and hand working me in unison, my orgasm hit suddenly, launching me over the edge I’d been chasing.
My pulse thumped at the base of my throat.
My thoughts went hazy.
My eyes squeezed shut.
And I exploded, coming completely undone.