Chapter 21 – VALENTINA
Twenty-One
VALENTINA
UNKNOWN: Another forfeit? Didn’t take you for the type. Don’t worry, we’ll save you a seat on the sidelines.
Balterra. Of course. That dick. His number’s blocked, but he’s the only one petty enough—and dumb enough—to play FBI, track me down, and text me this garbage.
I shove my phone back into my pocket. I’m not giving him the satisfaction, not lowering myself to his cheap power plays. I’ve got nothing to prove to him or anyone.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
Because as much as I want to brush it off, I can’t. His words stick and dig under my skin. Between Maksim, my dad, and now this, I swear I might actually scream.
Maybe I’m blowing it out of proportion. Maybe my problems aren’t as heavy as they feel in the moment. But right now, everything just feels fucked.
I limp past the hallway mirror and stop, glaring at my cast like it’s mocking me.
“Two more fucking weeks,” I mutter, letting the crutches clatter to the floor as I balance on my good leg. “Too long.”
I miss the rush. The thrill of winning. Hell, even showering without turning it into a whole production. But most of all, I miss my car—Poison Ivy. I need her. Need to lose myself in the speed, to burn all this shit off.
Instead, I’m stuck here, spinning out in my own head. Even Cole’s ghost won’t quit bouncing around in the back of my thoughts, haunting me when he shouldn’t matter at all. And he doesn’t. But the audacity of what he did, and who he did it with, still gnaws at me.
“You probably shouldn’t risk falling.”
I’m too pissed to feel the usual flutters Maksim’s presence stirs up.
“I’m fine,” I snap, harsher than I mean to, and regret it the second I catch his reflection, brows drawn together. “I’m sorry.” The apology slips out, but it’s just as tight.
I hate this, hate being treated like I’m fragile. That’s not how I want to be seen. Not by him. Not when he was raised by one of the strongest women I know.
“Something you want to talk about?”
I exhale hard. “Don’t do that.”
His eyes crease as he steps closer, but I don’t turn around.
“Do what?”
“First that shit you said at the table. Now you’re treating me like—”
“Like you’re still in a cast.”
“No,” I snap, whipping my gaze to his in the mirror. “You’re letting my dad get to you. And it’s pissing me off.”
His jaw tightens. “What did I say?”
“Don’t play dumb,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You called me kid.”
He exhales a sharp breath, his eyes cutting down the empty hallway before coming back to me. He steps closer. “Valentina—”
“No.” My voice cracks through his. “I don’t want to hear it. Just minutes before that, you said the same thing to Matteo. He’s fourteen, Maksim.”
His voice drops. “What do you want from me?”
“Stop running.”
Too angry to think, I spin carelessly, clip the edge of a crutch, and pitch forward. But before the hardwood collides with my face, his arms are around me, catching me, lifting me clean off the floor, and holding me bridal-style against his chest.
There’s the faintest curve at his lips. “Not much has changed with you, huh? Still stubborn as fuck. Are you trying to hurt yourself?”
I glare at him, pulse racing out of control. “Says the guy who almost killed me.”
His brows lift. “That’s some below-the-belt kind of shit, Valentina Cain.”
But I know that look—the way his eyes drop to my mouth and linger, the shallow breaths, the rough swallow. He can pretend all he wants, but I see it.
“And you’re wrong,” I murmur. “Everything’s changed. I know you know that.”
His grip on me tightens. “What do I know?”
“Never took you for a man who needs things spelled out.”
A dark chuckle vibrates through his chest, the sound jolting straight through me, like a fuse ready to blow.
“Say truth,” I whisper.
“Truth.”
I brush my lips against his jaw, slow enough to feel him tense. “Don’t ever call me kid. I’m not that little girl anymore. I’m twenty-fucking-two, Maksim. I drink. I drive. And I fuck.”
His breath catches, rough through his nose.
“If you knew how wet I am right now…” My mouth grazes his ear. “And I forgot to wear panties.”
His teeth grind audibly, the growl rumbling out of him raw.
“Ask me,” he demands.
And somehow, I know exactly what he means.
“Truth or dare, Maxy?”
“Dare. Fucking dare.”
A grin pulls at my mouth. “I dare you to take what you want. To take what’s yours.”
Maksim grips my thigh hard enough that I know it’ll bruise. And I want it to. A mark I’ll wear like a trophy, proof that I make him lose control, that he breaks his restraint because of me.
“I need one thing from you, Kolibri.”
The word drags goosebumps up my arms, hits me the way it always does.
“What’s that?” I breathe.
“Truth or dare?” he murmurs, setting me down and turning me toward the mirror. His hand sweeps my hair from my shoulder, and his lips follow, slow kisses burning along my neck.
I close my eyes, tilt my head back into him. “Dare.”
“You’re going to keep that pretty mouth shut,” he growls against my skin. “My life depends on it.”
There’s no time to question him. His hand slides up my thigh, pushing my dress higher until the reflection shows me bare.
“Oh, fuck.”
His fist closes around the thin fabric, breath hot against my neck as he takes in the sight of my pussy, exposed just for him. A flash of gratitude hits me for the Brazilian I’d gotten a few days before the accident.
“Ty chertovski krasiva,” he rasps, voice thick. “So fucking beautiful.”
Forgetting we’re in a full house, forgetting that anyone could walk in at any second, I slide my hand into his hair, and whisper against his jaw, “Are you going to follow through with your dare, or what?”
“Eyes on the mirror,” he orders, bringing the hem of my dress to my mouth. “Open up.”
I do as I’m told, and he slowly stuffs it inside.
“Good girl. I want us both to watch how your body and your sweet cunt responds to my touch.”
My breath stutters, lashes fluttering when his finger parts me, skimming over my clit before sliding down my seam like he already knows me by heart.
“You weren’t lying,” he mutters, his reflection dark, hungry. “No panties. And already dripping for me.”
A moan slips from my throat as a second finger joins the first, circling me slowly, torturously. My body bows toward the mirror, needing more, and there’s no hiding from the reflection of what he’s pulling out of me.
His dark laugh vibrates against my skin. “Beg prettier, Kolibri. I want to feel it when you shatter.”
A helpless sound escapes me. My hips move on instinct, chasing his fingers, desperate for more of the pressure he refuses to give.
“Sshh, beautiful,” he murmurs, tugging me closer until the heavy press of his cock rests against my back.
I bite down harder, fighting the urge to spin around and drop to my knees for him.
“Everyone is just feet away. What do you think they’d do if they walked in and saw their Valentina getting finger-fucked in her aunt and uncle’s hallway?”
Three fingers bury deep inside me now, curling, stroking that spot until my knees buckle.
I curse around my dress, slowly unraveling, and sure I’ll combust if I don’t scream.
“F-fuck,” I pant, unable to hold it.
“Bite down on me.” His inked forearm slides across my mouth, muffling my cries. “Use me, while I use you.”
In any other moment, I would have called him insane.
But now, with the pressure building higher, sharper, I’m just seconds from crying out his name for the whole damn house to hear.
Only the younger ones are gone, ducked out early for a movie with friends.
Everyone else is right here. But I don’t care.
I sink my teeth into his skin, hard enough to taste blood.
“Just like that,” Maksim hisses in my ear. “Next time, I’m going to bend you over and take what’s mine. Because it is mine, isn’t it?”
Mine.
The word rattles through me, louder than the laughter drifting from the dining room, louder than the footsteps creaking down the hall. None of it matters. Not the noise. Not the house full of people just feet away. Only this—his fingers working me open, my body shaking against his.
I keep my eyes on the mirror like he told me to, even as every part of me screams to turn and kiss him. Maybe he senses my intentions and presses harder over my mouth, forcing me to swallow the desperate sounds clawing their way out of my throat.
“You were made for me to touch like this,” he rasps, eyes locked on mine in the reflection. “Are you going to scream for me when I fuck you?”
I nod and bite harder.
Pleasure tears through me as his fingers drive deeper, until I break.
The orgasm crashes over me, ripping a cry from me that he smothers with his skin.
But he doesn’t stop until I’m clawing, begging for mercy.
Only then does he slide out with the same agonizing speed he went in with.
His soaked fingers rise between us, and I almost come again just watching him slip them into his mouth and suck them clean.
“Mm. My new favorite flavor,” he mutters, turning me toward him. His thumb brushes across my bottom lip. “Blood.”
I glance at the bite on his arm, the red pooling, mixed with my saliva. “Fuck, Maksim. I didn’t mean—”
He shuts me up with his mouth, tongue tracing mine, drinking me in like I’m the one bleeding. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, heavier than I’ve ever seen them.
“Thank you,” he says.
A laugh stumbles out of me. “You’re thanking me for biting and drooling all over you?”
“Means I did my job.”
I lean in, desperate to close the last of the distance, ready for his lips, his everything…when my name echoes through the hallway.
“Val?”
Remi.
We freeze.
Her voice comes again, louder, more frantic. “Hey…Valentina!”
If I know her—and I do—she’s seen enough to know something. And if she’s calling like that, it means someone else is close and she’s giving a warning.
“You better go,” he says, kissing me one last time.
“Now what?” My voice is nearly a whisper.
There’s no going back. I need more.
Maksim slips from my grasp and hands me my crutches. I feel the loss of his touch instantly.
“I’ll be by tomorrow,” he says, voice still ragged.
“Okay,” I breathe. It sounds vulnerable and needy, but I can’t help it.
And then he’s gone, leaving me shaking, smiling like a fool in the empty hall.
“Shit.” I close my eyes, replaying it all.
Maksim’s absence had left an ache in my eight-year-old heart all those years ago, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned from the stories of the people I love most, it’s that everything happens exactly as it’s meant to. And this. Me and him. Now I know exactly what it was. Fate didn’t get it wrong.
Maksim and I, it was always meant to be us.