Chapter 51 – MAKSIM
Fifty-One
MAKSIM
“Who gave the order?”
Mom’s backhand cracks across the man’s face before he can even inhale to answer. Blood sprays and dots the concrete at her feet. He spits defiantly, chin lifting like he’s daring her to try again.
She does.
The butt of her gun slams into his cheek, snapping his head sideways. His partner flinches so hard the chair rattles, eyes glued to the floor, and arms trembling against the restraints.
Amalia tracked these men down. They’re some small-time contacts of Balterra's. But all we’ve learned in the past hour is that Balterra was hired to locate and retrieve something “valuable.” They don’t know the name for it, but we do.
The Ledger.
The fucking epicenter of everything coming undone.
Neither of these clowns seems to know more than the scraps they were fed. And in our world, it’s easy to tell when someone is holding back. Easy to know if pain will crack them open or if they’re truly empty. Today, I can’t even bring myself to care enough to join in.
Any other day, I’d be front and center, knife in hand, smile in place, ready to peel back truth one scream at a time.
But right now, my mind is nowhere in this room.
It’s with Valentina. Always Valentina.
Last night, she told me she loves me with this terrified kind of bravery I don’t fucking deserve. And I didn’t say it back. Didn’t force the words out. Didn’t even try.
The disappointment in her eyes still burns behind my ribs like someone drove a blade between them and twisted.
If I say it...If I make it real, it becomes something I can lose, and something I could fuck up so catastrophically that she never looks at me the same again. Handing that power to someone else, letting her hold my heart in her hands, is terrifying.
And I’d do it anyway.
Because the truth is simple and unavoidable. I already love her. The words are just the last piece I haven’t found the courage to tear out of myself yet.
Suddenly, the room is suffocating, too small, and too loud.
The need to see her and show her exactly what she means to me pulses white-hot, overriding all logic.
I push off the wall, pull my firearm, and level it at the mouthy bastard who’s been smirking through every blow.
Without a moment to think, I squeeze the trigger.
His skull snaps back, body slumping, dead before he hits the ground.
“Maksim?” Mom’s voice cuts through the sharp ringing.
And my eyes swing to the remaining man. I aim at him next, letting him feel exactly how thin his thread of life is.
“You’re going to answer all of her questions. Understood?”
He nods furiously as streaks of pathetic tears slide down his face.
Mom catches my arm as I turn. “Where are you going?”
“To tear out my own heart.”
Her eyes narrow, not in disapproval, but in understanding, and a soft, knowing smile pulls at her lips
“Son,” Silas says as I pass. I nod once, no words needed, and keep walking.
The drive to Sloane’s is a blur, just headlights and asphalt beneath a mind that won’t stop spiraling.
I don’t remember streetlights or traffic.
Hell, I don’t even remember parking the car.
One second I’m gripping the wheel hard enough to split the leather, and the next I’m inside the building, purpose propelling me forward.
I spot Valentina behind the counter, Remi beside her. She’s in the middle of a conversation, lips parted mid-sentence…and then she sees me and freezes. Her brows knit in slight confusion, and I see that little breath she always takes when she’s surprised.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I don’t say a word because words will only slow me down. I move around Remi, and before Valentina can blink, I’ve got my hands on her waist, scooping her up. Maybe tossing her over my shoulder at her job—twice now—isn’t the height of professionalism.
But I don’t give a single good goddamn.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll close up,” Remi calls after us, laughter in her voice because she knows exactly what this is.
Valentina twists just enough to look at me upside down, her palms braced on my back. “I’m starting to wonder why I even have legs,” she teases as I take the stairs two at a time, having no patience for an elevator.
“I needed to see you,” I growl. “Couldn’t wait.”
“I thought you said you’d be tied up?”
I shoulder open her office door, kick it shut behind us, and swipe my arm across her desk. Papers, pens, and her tablet scatter across the floor in a clatter I don’t even look at.
“Consider this my lunch break, beautiful.” My hands slide down her thighs, gripping tight. “And I’m fucking starving.”
Her fingers slide into my hair, nails grazing my scalp, and she laughs—breathless, dizzy—as I tug her pants down her legs.
“I thought it was important.”
I hook my hands under her knees and pull her to the edge of the desk.
“It was,” I murmur against her thigh. “Still is.”
Her legs part for me without hesitation, like her body’s been waiting for this since the second I walked in. My tongue slides along her slit, a low, helpless sound falling out of her.
“So you rushed out of an important meeting just to eat my pussy?”
I glance up at her through my lashes, mouth still pressed against skin, and let a slow smile break across my face.
“No, I came to fuck it too.”
I grip her thighs and pull her even closer, tongue plunging back into her before she can finish her gasp.
Her spine arches, fingers desperate against my scalp as I lick her again, slower and cruelly thorough.
“That good, huh?” She throws her head back, and from this angle—her body bowed, throat exposed, hair spilling over the edge of the desk—she looks like a damn painting. A masterpiece.
Behind her, through the huge pane of glass that overlooks the gun range below, I catch a full bird’s-eye view of people moving from lane to lane. Targets being shredded, casings clattering on concrete. It’s the perfect white noise under her moans.
“I’d crawl through fire to have you dripping on my tongue. So no, it’s not good. It’s fucking addictive.”
That does something to her. Valentina grabs my face with both hands and drags me up, her fingers firm on my jaw.
“Addictive, huh? Well, then let’s not be greedy.”
With a slow, sultry grin, she licks the taste of herself from my skin, over the corner of my mouth, then seals her lips over mine.
“Share,” she whispers into my mouth. “All of it.”
My breath catches as she slides to the other side, licking the sheen from my skin, jaw to cheekbone.
She pulls back just enough to wickedly say, “Good boy.”
Something inside me snaps, and I grab her waist, hauling her closer, my mouth crashing back onto hers with a hunger that borders on violent.
And now she’s shaking in my arms again, her body remembering exactly where we left off. I lightly shove her against the desk, my mouth back on her cunt.
“Look down,” I rasp between licks. “If they only knew what the owner is up to.”
She whimpers, turning her head just enough to glimpse the patrons below. Rows of shooters lining up, unaware of how I’m ruining her, how my face is buried between her thighs, savoring every delicious drop.
The sight alone makes her legs shake.
She lifts off the desk with a sharp inhale, nipples hard under her tank as she braces herself on her elbows.
“Fuck…please…”
I don’t give her time to beg. My tongue circles her clit once, then I suck her into my mouth, hard. She cries out, one hand slapping against the glass behind her as her body jerks.
“That’s it. Sing for me,” I growl, angling her hips higher, my breath hot against her. “Let them hear you, Ptichka. Let them know you’re mine.”
Below, someone reloads. A man fires a rapid triple-tap. A woman adjusts her stance and sends a clean shot downrange. And above it all, Valentina is unraveling for me.
Her thighs clamp around my head, shaking, trying to escape the pleasure even as she drags me closer.
“Maksim, I-I’m coming…”
“Drip for me.”
One more stroke of my tongue and she breaks open, head thrown back, mouth parted on a sound that hits me right in the center of my chest.
Her release pulses against my mouth, and I don’t stop. I drag my tongue through every aftershock, forcing her to feel every second of it.
“Too much—”
Her voice cracks, legs trembling, but she doesn’t push me away. She never does.
I pull back slowly, wipe my mouth with my thumb, then lick it clean as I watch her fight to breathe.
“Up,” I say.
She barely has time to gasp before I spin her around and bend her over the desk. Her palms slam onto the wood. Her ass is glistening.
I drag my hand down the curve of her spine and grip a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back just enough to hear her moan.
“Hands and eyes on the glass.”
She does as she’s told, ass in the air, greedy little cunt searching for me. I line up and push inside, a sharp breath ripping from my chest as her heat clamps around me.
“Fuck,” I hiss, eyes falling shut for a second before I force them open again. “Look at yourself, baby. Don’t you dare look away.”
My hand finds her throat, fingers curling tight.
“God, I missed you all fucking day. What have you done to me, Valentina?”
She exhales a broken laugh that turns into a moan when I thrust again—harder.
“I need you to know something,” I say, kissing her shoulder. “You belong to me the same way I belong to you—violently, completely.”
“I know, Maksim…Always yours,” she breathes, pushing back into me, taking me deeper. “But don’t fucking stop.”
I pull her back by her hair, arching her spine until her mouth is inches from mine.
“I love it when you beg, Ptichka. When I have you like this, spread open on my cock.”
I take her mouth in a brutal kiss, swallowing the gasp that tears out of her when my other hand slides between her legs and finds her clit. She jolts and nearly collapses.
“Fuck—there—right there,” she whimpers, voice cracking on every word.
Her walls tighten around me, gripping, fluttering. My rhythm falters just a fraction.
“Valentina…” Her name breaks from me. “I—fuck—”
I’m losing it. Losing every ounce of control.
She feels it too. I know she does.
Her hips roll back against mine, pushing me closer to the edge. Her breath fogs the glass as she braces for another thrust, another squeeze of my hand around her throat.
“Please—come with me,” she pleads, voice shaking.
I slam into her again, hard enough that the desk groans.
My forehead drops to her shoulder. My grip in her hair tightens. My breath hits her skin in ragged huffs. The confession rises, uninvited, burning the roof of my mouth as I whisper in her ear, my voice caught on words I’ve never said to anyone.
“I lo—”
I slam my jaw shut, heaving against her back.
She doesn’t hear it. Or maybe she does.
“Maksim…”
“Valentina—I’m—fuck, I’m right there—”
She trembles violently, body clamping around me so tight I swear she’s going to tear me apart. Her orgasm rips through her, and it drags me straight into mine.
I crush her against the desk, driving into her one last time as everything inside me shatters.
I stay there, breathing hard, forehead pressed to her back, hand still wrapped around her throat, the unspoken words sitting like fire on my tongue.
So close.
So fucking close.