Chapter 5 MAYA
Five
MAYA
Sofia’s yawning by the time the movie ends.
“Alright, honey. Time for bed.”
She doesn’t argue. Just stretches and rubs her eyes. “Please come with me?”
My entire heart melts. “Of course.”
I glance at Mikhail. He’s leaning against the doorway, looking all badass hottie, with his big arms crossed, watching us.
I smile, he gives me a nod that has me grinning like a fool, and I take Sofia’s hand. We head upstairs, and she shows me where everything is. Her toothbrush. Her pajamas. The stuffed bear that has to sleep on the left side of the bed, not the right.
“Mr. Bear doesn’t like the right side,” she tells me very seriously.
“Good to know.”
I help her brush her teeth and change into her pink PJs with little stars all over.
She climbs in bed, and I tuck her in, making sure Mr. Bear is on the correct side.
“Will you read me a story?”
“Of course, sweetie. What do you want to hear?”
She points to an illustrated book sitting on the nightstand.
It’s a princess story with a modern twist. Where the girl saves herself and the prince.
Okay, now I want to meet Mikhail’s sister even more.
Not only is she raising a kind, polite, confident kid, but she’s teaching her the right values as a girl. Kudos, sis.
I’m halfway through the story when I feel him.
And all my girl-power thoughts fly right out the window.
Because, holy shit, look at this man. Who wouldn’t want to be manhandled, then spoiled by all that’s Mikhail Maksimov?
Feel his huge hands all over your body, have his pile of muscles on top of muscles press you into a mattress, feel the burn of his scruff, get your hands on his…
“Maya?” Sofia calls, and I snap my head up.
“Yes, sweetie. Sorry, I got distracted for a second.” I hear a low chuckle coming from Mikhail. Bastard.
I keep reading, but my voice is a bit shaky now. I can feel his eyes on me. Heavy and intense.
When I finally finish the story, Sofia’s half-asleep.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
“Night, Maya,” she mumbles.
I stand and turn to find Mikhail right there… Close enough to touch.
He steps past me and leans to kiss Sofia’s forehead. Oh, my God! How cute is that?!
“Night, princess.”
“Love you, Uncle Misha.”
“Love you too, baby.”
I’m fucking done for. Hot AND sweet? Gah!
We step out into the hallway, and he pulls the door almost closed. Leaving it open just a crack.
And then we’re alone. In the dim hallway. Close enough that I can smell him. All clean soap and something darker. Something that makes my thighs press together.
“She’s out,” I say, because I need to say something.
He doesn’t respond. Just looks at me.
I clear my throat. “Well. I should probably head to bed too. Long day and all.”
I take a step toward my room, but Mikhail’s hand shoots out and wraps around my wrist, stopping me.
His blue eyes, mesmerizing as he orders, “Downstairs.”
“What?”
“You’re coming downstairs with me.”
My pulse kicks up. “Why?”
His jaw tightens, his warm fingers on my skin, his blue eyes never leaving mine…
The way he’s looking at me, I have no choice but to let out a breathy, “Okay.”
He releases my wrist and heads downstairs. And I follow.
My heart’s pounding so hard I’m surprised he can’t hear it. We reach the living room, and he sits on the huge cream leather sectional, and pats the spot next to him. I hesitate for a second, then I sit. Mikhail wraps his hand around my waist and pulls me against him.
I gasp. “Mikhail…”
He cuts me off. “You’ve been watching me.”
Oh God.
My eyes go wide. “I…”
“Three weeks, baby. Three weeks of you eye-fucking me over that wall.”
My face burns. “I wasn’t…”
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
His eyes are blazing, his ruggedly handsome face set in stone.
I bite my lip and look away. Because he’s right. I was.
He holds my chin between two big, rough fingers, forcing me to look at him.
“You think I didn’t notice? You think I didn’t see you out there every morning, waiting for me?”
“I didn’t think you… I mean, you never said anything.”
“Because you were fucking off-limits.”
My breath catches. “Why… how?”
His one-word answer says it all. “Mitya.”
I swallow with difficulty. “And now?”
The blue in his eyes turns darker, dangerous, fascinating. “Now, baby girl, you’re in my house. And I’m done pretending.”
My pulse is racing. My skin feels hot, tight.
“Pretending what?”
“That I don’t want you.”
Oh.
I make a sound that’s half gasp-half moan. Then, his mouth is on mine, taking advantage of my parted lips. And holy shit! He’s kissing me. Mikhail Maksimov is kissing me. And it’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s hungry. Demanding. Like he’s been starving for this. For me.
I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt, holding on for dear life.
He tastes like coffee and something darker. Something delicious, all male, uniquely him, that makes my toes curl.
His lips are full and firm; his tongue, wicked. His big hands all over my body.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy. My lips are swollen. My entire body is on fire.
“Tell me you want this,” he growls against my mouth, forehead resting on mine, breathing just as ragged as my own.
“I… yes. God, yes.”
Without another word, he kisses me again. Even deeper. Like he’s tasting me, gorging on me, fucking taking his fill.
His hands slide down my sides. Over my hips. Grip my thighs. They’re huge. Rough. Fucking perfect. And I want them everywhere.
When he breaks the kiss, it feels like a lifetime has passed.
“You’re not going back to that pool house.”
“What?”
“You’re staying.”
My brain’s still sluggish after the kiss of the century. “Mikhail…”
“You live here now.”
“But…”
His only answer is to kiss me again. Hard, wet, mind-blowingly delectable.
When he pulls back, I’m trembling, wet, aching.
“You’re mine.”
I stare at him. My heart racing. Pussy pulsing, clit tingling, nipples so hard they hurt… Without even thinking, I nod.
“Say it,” he rasps out with his lips still brushing mine.
“I’m… I’m yours.” Oh my God, what am I doing?…
He pulls me on his lap and makes me straddle him. And… I can feel him. ALL of him. Hard. Thick. Long. Right against my throbbing pussy…
I gasp and instinctively rock my hips… just a little. And, oh God, the friction is delicious against my wet, sensitive folds.
And I can’t hold back a moan. “Mikhail…”
“I know, baby. I know.”
He kisses my neck. Full lips, hot tongue, his teeth grazing my collarbone.
His hands finally sliding under my dress.
When his thick fingers meet the thin fabric of my panties, he groans, and I moan even louder into our kiss, shamelessly rolling my hips now, while he guides my movements along the hard ridge of his shaft.
I’ve been fantasizing about this man for weeks.
And now I’m about to come on his huge cock… through our clothes…
“Yes,” I pant.
His hand slides between my thighs, over my panties. I’m sure, finding me soaking wet.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, sounding almost pained.
I whimper, rocking against his hand. Chasing its heat, the contact of the heel he’s pressing along my slit.
He pushes my panties aside and slides one long, thick finger through my drenched pussy lips.
I gasp, “Oh God!”
Mikhail stares at me while he’s finger-fucking me… watching the expressions crossing my features. His eyes, fucking burning.
My nails are dug into his granite-hard shoulders, my ravaged lips parted on an unending moan. My thighs, trembling against his muscular legs.
“Feels… so… good…”
He adds another finger, stretching me, working me slowly. His thumb on my clit, rubbing maddening circles.
“Oh, Mikh… Ahhhh…”
I’m panting. Gripping his shoulders even tighter. Moving with his hand thrusting in and out of me, slow, deep. Scissoring, opening me, pulling me apart…
His blue eyes are wild, feral. He licks his full lips, then his straight white teeth sink into the bottom one before letting it slowly drag out. His massive chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths.
“That’s it, baby. Take what you need.” He barely sounds human. Or looks it. More wild beast feasting on its prey.
And I can’t think. Can’t breathe. Can only feel.
Then the thrusting increases, faster, even deeper. The quiet space fills with the wet sounds of my drenched pussy, my loud moans, Mikhail’s grunts. His big fingers inside me. His thumb on my clit. The heat building. Rising. Swelling impossibly higher, and higher…
Then he commands in his low, gravelly, impossible not to obey voice, “Come for me, Milaya.”
So I do. Hard. My body shakes. My vision goes white.
I cry out his name. And he watches me the entire time.
His flame-blue eyes never leaving mine, making everything feel harder, stronger, tenfold better.
I shake, whine, moan, my fingers clasped at his shoulders, nails dug in hard, pressing myself into his touch…
And he keeps drinking in my orgasm, dragging it, thrusting, hooking his fingers inside me, rubbing those magical circles on my clit…
pulling more out of me, again, and again, everything.
Until I’m nothing but a trembling rag-doll in his arms.
When I finally stop shaking, Mikhail slowly pulls his fingers out of me. I’m too sensitive; I know that. And I’m all orgasmed out. But I feel the loss. Deep. Intense. Like a part of me is withdrawing.
Then he brings his fingers to his mouth.
And fucking tastes me. Long, thick fingers pushing past his full pink lips, his tongue darting out to swirl around them, his gorgeous eyes fluttering closed for a second, a low purr vibrating through his chest…
Fuck me. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life.
When I try to push on my knees to get up from his lap, he holds me with a firm hand on my hip, shaking his head, that glacier gaze pinning me in place.
He lifts me off his lap and lays me on the couch. Then he’s between my thighs, pushing my dress up, pulling my panties down. And spreads me… wide. And buries his face between my thighs.
I’m frozen in place. Under his spell. All I can do is shake, moan, stare at this beautiful man who’s eating my pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do before leaving this earth.
Growling, sucking, licking, biting, his big hands holding me exactly where and how he wants me.
Spread. Open. At his mercy. I’m fucking hypnotized by the back-and-forth sweep of his amazing tongue, the sharp electric current that courses through me every time he sucks on my clit.
The waves of pleasure that invade my body with each deep thrust of his fingers.
His deep, rumbly growls adding vibrations to his ministrations.
The vision of his broad shoulders between my legs, his thick head of dark hair, his dazed gaze when he raises his sky-blue eyes to meet mine.
Like he’s saying: look at me, see how good I’m making you feel, how fucking hungry I am for you…
His tongue. His mouth. His fingers. All of this massive, beastly gangster. Mine. All fucking mine.
I’m moaning. My hands pulling at his hair. My wide hips bucking into his face as he’s devouring me. Like he can’t get enough.
Then his fingers push even deeper inside me, curl and…
“Mikhail! Oh God, I can’t…”
“Give me another one.”
And I do. I come again. Even harder than before.
My thighs are shaking. My whole body is trembling.
But he doesn’t stop, even when I beg. He keeps fucking feeding on my juices, my flesh, swallowing the nasty sounds of my wet cunt, fingers digging into my skin, my hips, hands holding me hard…
until the very last tremor. Then he’s licking long, slow, painfully delicious. Until he is done.
Mikhail pulls back. Wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking completely unhinged. Eyes wild, hair crazy, face flushed, breathing hard, his lips swollen. At the same time, looking ravenous, and like he just had the best meal of his entire goddamn life.
I’m wrecked, spent, completely done for, barely able to keep my eyes open and admire all that’s this man. The beauty of this moment.
He scoops me up, pulling me into his arms. And I curl into his chest, his warmth, his scent. Boneless. Exhausted.
The last thing I feel is his mammoth hand gently stroking my hair.