10. Maksim #2
I pick her up, hands gripping the backs of her thighs, and carry her to the bed.
She wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me again as I lower her onto the mattress.
I drag my shirt off and join her, bracing my weight above her as I kiss my way down her throat, over the curve of her collarbone, then lower, until I reach the edge of her panties.
Zoya gasps when I mouth her over the thin fabric. Her hips lift, seeking more. I can taste her moisture that’s soaked the fabric and it makes my cock swell to the point it feels like my skin will tear open if I get any larger.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmur, dragging the panties down her legs with a finger hooked in each side of the waistband. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I need your mouth,” she breathes. “I need to feel your tongue searching me. Please, Maksim, eat me like I’m your favorite dessert.”
I don’t make her beg twice. I kiss my way back up to her center, taking my time, letting her anticipation build.
Her thighs part for me, the scent of her arousal making my mouth water.
I start slowly, just the tip of my tongue sliding between her folds, tasting her.
She gasps, her hips lifting off the bed, but I hold her down, one hand on her thigh as I tease her with slow, shallow strokes.
When I find her clit, I circle it lightly, then press my tongue flat and drag it over her again, watching the way her stomach tightens, the way her fingers twist in the sheets.
Her thighs close around my head, but I keep going, licking deeper, hungrier, tracing every reaction, every moan. I want to wreck her for anyone else.
"Oh, my God," she breathes. "Maksim, please…"
She doesn’t have to finish. I slip two fingers inside her, curling them just right as I suck her clit into my mouth.
She’s supple and flexible, yielding to my actions as I find her bundle of nerves buried deep under the rough flesh.
I work it, massaging and teasing as I suck her clit until she’s twitching and whimpering, begging me for more.
“Oh, shit… I’m so close… right there… do that.” Zoya claws at my scalp and pulls so hard, my face is buried in her moisture, but I don't relent. I want to feel her pussy pulsing around my tongue.
Her moan turns into a cry, her body arching sharply as the orgasm rips through her.
She trembles, thighs shaking, hips jerking against my mouth.
I don't stop until she's panting, twitching under my tongue, her body spent and slick with pleasure—so much moisture I can barely suck it all up, and fuck, do I ever suck it up. Every drop was made for my tongue.
“Fuck—don’t stop,” she pants.
I continue sucking and licking until she’s calm, now pulling my hair until I find myself leaving a trail of sloppy moisture over every curve of her body until my mouth meets hers, and when I kiss her again, I know she tastes herself on my lips.
“Turn over,” I say roughly. “On your knees.”
She hesitates, but only for a second. Then she does it—climbing up on all fours, her back arched, looking over her shoulder at me. Goddamn, she’s perfect.
“Spread yourself open,” I order, and Zoya obeys quickly. Her hand reaches back, sliding over one hip until her fingers kiss her ass and she pulls herself wide. The moisture from her climax glistens on her skin, and I lick my lips instinctively, remembering her taste.
I unbuckle my belt and push my pants down, wrapping a hand around my cock to stroke it slowly as I take her in.
Her ass, her bare back, the pearls still glinting at her throat.
I’d love to stretch her pussy so wide I could see inside her, to watch her holes pucker and expand while she comes again, but my dick drips with precum. I need release.
“You want me to fuck you like this?” I ask.
“Yes.” Her voice is unsteady, needy. “Please.”
I grip her hips and guide myself to her entrance, pressing the head of my cock against her slick folds.
She gasps, hips rocking back to meet me, and I take my time, easing in slowly, letting her feel every inch.
Her body gives way around me, tight and hot and so fucking wet it almost undoes me.
Her breath hitches with every inch I push deeper until I'm fully seated inside her, my pelvis flush against her ass, my hands gripping her hips to keep from losing control.
Zoya moans, one hand flying to the headboard as she tries to steady herself as I start to move. The whimpers she emits turn to whines, then moans, and her pussy clenches around me.
“You feel so fucking good,” I groan. “Tight and wet and perfect.”
She pushes back against me, taking me deeper. I thrust hard, setting a rhythm that has her gasping with every stroke. The sound of skin against skin fills the room. Her body arches, her moans getting louder.
“Maksim, fuck, don’t stop.”
Zoya pushes back. She actually backs into me, so I slam my cock deeper, letting her feel it. Tiny yelps of pleasure drip from her lips as she looks back at me with desperation.
“I won’t,” I growl, fucking her through it. “Come for me again. Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”
Her body tenses first—shoulders locking, spine bowing as her breath catches in her throat.
I feel it before I hear it, the way her walls flutter around me, tighter and tighter until she's gasping for air.
Her moan builds from the back of her throat, rising in pitch as her climax crashes over her.
She cries out, hands scrabbling at the headboard, her hips jerking back against me as she rides the wave.
I slow my thrusts, letting her feel every grind of my cock inside her while her body pulses around me. Her legs tremble beneath her, and I grip her tighter to keep her upright, watching her fall apart, completely unguarded, completely mine.
"That's it, Zoya," I murmur through clenched teeth. "Let it all go."
She clenches around me so hard I have to grit my jaw, the sensation dragging me straight to the edge. My hips stutter as I fight the urge to come, trying to stretch the moment, savor it, even as my control starts to splinter.
“Shit—that’s it,” I groan, fucking her through it. “Gonna come… inside you… Fuck!”
I spill into her with a rough gasp, my hips jerking as the orgasm hits hard, ripping through me in waves I can’t control.
My hands tighten on her hips as I thrust deeper, grinding against her, trying to get even closer.
Her body grips me with steady, rhythmic contractions, her inner muscles fluttering around my cock as if she’s wringing every last drop from me.
I groan through clenched teeth, buried so deep I can feel the last pulses of release ebbing out of me.
My chest brushes her back as I lean over her, breathing hard against her skin, my hands splayed over her belly to hold her there, connected.
Her warmth, the slick heat of her still holding me tight, keeps me locked in place long after the last twitch has passed.
Neither of us moves at first. Just the sound of our breathing, ragged and uneven, fills the space between us as the tension slowly breaks.
I press a kiss to her spine, then another, trailing up toward the nape of her neck.
She’s still trembling under my touch, and I don’t pull out—not yet.
I want to stay inside her a little longer, grounded in the aftermath, the silence, the shift I know we both feel.
When I finally collapse beside her, dragging her into my arms, she doesn’t pull away. She just curls into me, flushed and breathing hard, and for a long moment, neither of us says a word.
Her head rests on my chest, our legs tangled in the sheets.
I stroke her hair slowly, listening to the soft rhythm of her breathing as it begins to calm.
The heat between us is fading, but what’s left is heavier, more complicated.
What I want from her and the job to which I've been assigned are colliding hard and causing my heart to pound.
“Zoya,” I say quietly.
She hums in response, not lifting her head. It's a dreamy soft hum of afterglow. She's so pliable, so vulnerable, and I'm following orders that might seem like a bomb is being dropped between us.
“I want to marry you.”
That makes her go still. She props herself up on one elbow, her hair falling across her chest as she looks down at me. “You’re serious.”
“Yes.”
“We’ve known each other two weeks—if that. Maksim, it's too fast."
“I don’t care.” The rejection stings. It actually stings me, and I hate that it does because this is just a job. It's a means to an end, but I'm in too deep.
She laughs softly, but there’s tension in it. “That’s not enough time.”
“For most people, maybe. Not for me.”
“Maksim…” Her voice trails off. She sits up, drawing the blanket over her chest. “Marriage isn’t a game. You don’t just decide to marry someone because the sex was good and the night was nice.”
“It’s not a game to me.” I sit up beside her.
“I know what I want.” It's floundering, just as I knew it would.
Grisha's idea seems good on paper, but Zoya isn't stupid.
She knows what I really want—her brother's head on a pole.
She's smart enough to put the pieces together.
We should've just had Renat do his thing, interrogate her. She'd have talked eventually.
But now we're in deep. Now the thought of his hands on her, causing pain in the interest of gaining answers—it infuriates me. I don't want that. Not when my hands have been on her in other ways, intimate ways.
“And you want me? ”
“Yes. Protected. Safe. With my name. Under my roof.” I pull her against my body, realizing that while marriage is definitely way too fast a movement for this relationship, I actually do want her. She must see the sincerity in my eyes, but she sighs and lets her shoulders drop.
She turns her face toward me, searching. “And if I’m not ready?”
“Then I wait. But I won’t change my mind.”
She swallows, looking away toward the window. “I don’t know if I can say yes.”
“You don’t have to.” I reach for her hand.
“Not right away. Zoya, I promise you," I say with deep and true sincerity, "you're safer if you do this my way.
" I'm letting too much show, exposing too many secrets with that statement.
I'm showing my hand and I don't care. I know it's the truth.
I will still find her brother, but I will do it my way.
"We can make it so public the whole world will know.
No one will dare cross you. Not even your brother. "
The words make her stiffen again, and that same fear, the same vulnerability from before flickers in her eyes. I reach for her hand and she lets me take it, fingers cool against mine. Her thumb brushes across my knuckles. “I’m not saying no.”
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it once, firmly.
“That’s enough,” I say. “For now.”