Chapter 7 MAYA
Seven
MAYA
I wake up to the sound of an alarm. For a second, I don’t know where I am.
Then I feel Mikhail’s massive body wrapped around mine.
His arm heavy across my waist, his huge chest pressed against my back.
His cock, that even at rest feels enormous, nestled between my ass-cheeks.
And everything from this morning comes flooding back.
Oh God. I lost my virginity. To Mikhail Maksimov.
Who is currently spooning me like we do this every day.
The alarm keeps blaring. He grunts and reaches over me to grab his phone from the nightstand. He silences it, then pulls me tighter against him.
“Hey.” My voice comes out raspy. Making me sound exactly the way I feel: wrecked.
He kisses my cheek, buries his face in my hair, and croaks out, “We have to get Sofia.” But he doesn’t let go.
I try to sit up, and immediately regret it. Everything hurts. Between my thighs, my hips, my back. I’m sore everywhere.
When I let out a small whimper, Mikhail sits up, resting a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I nod. Even though I’m not sure that’s true.
He cups my face, making me look at him. “Maya.”
“I’m fine. Just… sore.” I smile, and when his jaw tightens, badass macho guilt written all over his ruggedly handsome face, I can’t hold back a small giggle.
“Fuck. I was too rough.”
I cup the side of his face with my hand, rubbing my thumb over his coarse stubble, and look him in the eye, saying softly, “No. You were perfect.” But he still doesn’t look convinced, so I lean and press my mouth to his in a brief but hard kiss. “I’m okay, baby. I promise.”
His blue eyes search my face, and I guess my tired but over-the-moon does the trick, because he nods.
Then, climbs out of bed, gloriously naked, completely unbothered, all tall, big, muscular, tattooed, scary hot, Russian mobster with an unusually big dick, and extends a hand to me.
I take it, try to stand, and instantly wince.
Mikhail scoops me up before I can protest.
“What are you doing?”
His only answer is a grunt. Of course. But I’m not complaining. Because being snuggled into his warmth, feeling the strength of his arms around my back and under my knees, having his musky scent with the lingering touches of his woodsy cologne all over me? Swoon!
He carries me to the bathroom, and sets me down gently to sit on the side of the massive tub.
He returns with a warm washcloth and starts cleaning me.
Gently, carefully. Between my thighs. Where I’m all sticky with him.
With us. His movements are tender. Somehow more intimate than the sex.
I don’t know what to do, what to say, what to think, where to look.
Especially since he’s watching me with his intense blue stare that makes my insides melt.
“You did so good.”
My cheeks burn. “Mikhail…”
He doesn’t let me interrupt, just keeps cleaning me gently, his eyes boring into mine. “Took me so well.”
“Stop.”
“You’re mine, baby. Gonna tell you shit how it is.”
I can’t hold back my smile while he finishes cleaning me up, tosses the cloth aside, then stands and pulls me in his arms.
I relax into his embrace. He kisses the top of my head. “Now let’s get ready. Sofia’s gonna be pissed if we’re late.”
Getting dressed is… an interesting experience.
Every movement reminds me of what we did.
I pull on fresh panties and leggings, trying not to wince while Mikhail’s watching me from across the room, smirking.
Asshole. He’s dressed in another set of dark jeans and t-shirt that perfectly hug his mouthwatering physique.
God, how did I bag this ridiculously hot man?
! I still glare at him, and of course he grins.
And yeah, he’s beyond gorgeous doing it. Ugh.
“Stop staring.”
He crosses the room, all badass swagger, coming to tower over me, and cups my face. And I instinctively lean into the warmth of his rough palm.
A small smile still lingering on his lips, he gravels, “You’re mine, and everyone’s gonna know it.”
My stomach flips. “How… how would they know?”
“Baby, the way you’re walking.” He sweeps his thumb over my lips. “How you can’t stop fidgeting. The way you smell like me.”
“Mikhail!”
He chuckles, then kisses me. Long, deep, wet, thorough. Until I’m nothing but jelly legs, tingles all over, and horny sighs.
Then he pulls back. “Let’s go get our girl.” Our girl. I’m so screwed.
* * *
The drive to Sofia’s school is quiet. Mikhail’s hand is on my thigh the entire time. Heavy. Warm. Claiming.
I keep glancing at him. He looks relaxed, happy. Like he had the best morning of his life. Well, as much as a scary grump’s expression can show, at least.
“Stop overthinking,” he rumbles without looking at me.
“I’m not.” I protest.
He shakes his head, that tiny smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I can hear your brain working overtime.”
I huff. “What am I thinking then?”
He glances at me, shaking his head. Then he pulls into the school lot, parks, and turns to me.
“I don’t do this, baby. I don’t bring women into my life.”
My heart’s pounding. “Why me, then?”
“Cause you’re mine.”
He says it so matter-of-factly. Like it’s simple, natural, obvious. And maybe it is. Because I feel the same. Before I can respond, Mikhail is out of the car. He opens my door, helps me out, and threads our fingers together as we walk toward the school. What even is my life right now?!
There’s a small crowd of parents picking up their little ones, chatting among themselves, and kids scurrying out of the building, talking and laughing. We get curious looks from some of the adults, especially moms ogling Mikhail… Yeah, I get it: he’s a whole lot of man.
After a few minutes, Sofia comes running our way.
“Uncle Misha! Maya!”
She launches herself at us, wrapping her small arms around one of her uncle’s legs and one of mine. My poor heart…
Mikhail lays a hand on the top of her head, all gentle giant.
“Hey, princess. Good day?”
“The best! We had art, we played outside, and the snacks you packed me were really good!” He nods, smiling down at her, making my ovaries stand at attention. Sofia turns to me with her adorable smile. “Did you guys have fun without me?”
Mikhail and I exchange a look. Oh, we had fun, alright…
“Yeah, sweetie. We had a nice day.”
“What did you do?”
I cough. “Just… uh… hung out.”
Mikhail’s smirking. I elbow him. Thank God, Sofia doesn’t notice. She just keeps chatting about her day as we walk to the car.
* * *
Back at the house, Sofia wants to bake cookies.
“Please?” She’s pressing her palms together, giving us puppy-dog eyes, and I have to hold back my laughter, waiting for her uncle’s response. “I saw a recipe on my tablet, and it looks so yummy!”
Mikhail looks at me and raises an eyebrow.
I beam. “Cookies sound perfect.”
He grunts, shaking his head, but heads for the kitchen.
Sofia giggles. “You’re the best, Uncle Misha.”
I couldn’t agree more.
Sofia pulls up the sugar cookies recipe on her tablet. Mikhail rolls up his sleeves to wash his hands, and my mouth goes dry. Thick, corded forearms, covered in ink… Get it together, Maya, Sofia is right here!
But my internal struggle to not melt into a puddle of heart-eyes and weeping pussy continues as I sit on a bar stool, watching them move around the marble counter.
He’s so patient with her. It’s freaking adorable how Mikhail lets Sofia measure ingredients even though she spills half of them.
He helps her crack the eggs and doesn’t even flinch when she gets flour on his shirt.
And I’m just sitting there making teasing comments that make Sofia giggle while her uncle shakes his head and grunts at us.
Which makes us laugh even harder. And I’m pretty sure that’s his goal.
When Sofia runs to the bathroom, he moves behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me against his warm, muscular chest.
“Having fun?” he murmurs against my ear, sending shivers all over.
“Yeah,” I manage to reply breathlessly.
“Good.”
He kisses my neck. And I feel his lips, teeth, and tongue. The huff of his breath. My nipples harden, my pussy throbs, my clit tingles. And I go from feeling mildly turned on to burning hot. But before things can go too far, we hear Sofia’s footsteps in the hallway.
“Are the cookies ready?” She asks loudly from right outside the kitchen.
Mikhail pulls away after pressing a kiss to the crown of my hair. “Almost, baby.”
* * *
After dinner and way too many cookies, Sofia’s tired after her full day, yawning.
“Looks like it’s time for bed, princess,” Mikhail declares.
“But I’m not tired!” she tries protesting.
“Come on, honey.”
I stand, offering her my hand, with a smile. She pouts, but doesn’t argue.
I help her get ready, read her a story, and Mikhail comes in just as we’re finishing.
He leans against the doorway watching us.
The cotton of his t-shirt hugging his impossibly broad shoulders and wide chest, the short sleeves stretched around his bulging biceps.
Jeans molded to his long, tree-trunk size legs, and that log he’s carrying around that makes it impossible for my eyes not to linger on his crotch… am I drooling?
“Night, princess,” he says, his raspy voice breaking through my thirsting.
“Night, Uncle Misha. Night, Maya,” Sofia replies with a sweet, sleepy smile.
“Goodnight, baby girl.”
I kiss her hair, taking an inhale of her sweet, little girl scent. Then, Mikhail and I step out of the room, leaving her door cracked.
“I should… probably go to bed,” I whisper.
Mikhail doesn’t respond. He just looks at me. His blue eyes, intense. Making my thighs clench.
I give him an awkward wave, turn and head to my room, closing the door behind me. Then I lean against it, my heart racing.