32. Carina
CARINA
Maksim held me on his lap. He had every right to assume the worst of me, overhearing me talking to Arturo after he’d left. Just this morning, I told him that I hadn’t spoken with him since the day before the wedding.
I felt like a liar now, even though I had told the truth.
“I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you,” I confessed, sticking with the full honesty that I wanted him to know he could expect from me.
I knew it had to look bad, though, that I’d called my brother and tried to talk to him after Maksim had left the room for me to shower. He’d lingered though, for whatever reason that was. But I hadn’t intended for a single second to give him any room to doubt me.
“I suspected as much,” he said.
He wasn’t mad. But I worried that he should be. Arturo was an extremely difficult topic between us. I wasn’t so na?ve to assume that he might be killed, and soon. My brother might meet his death by the hands of my husband, and I had to try to come to terms with that, one way or another.
I hadn’t yet, though, and that was why as I sat on Maksim’s lap and accepted and embraced the security his strong body offered me, I felt like a liar. A fraud. Someone who didn’t deserve his goodness.
Because that was what he continued to show me.
“I never want you to think that I’d betray you,” I admitted, letting myself expose how vulnerable I was at the moment.
How close I was to breaking down. “When I reached out to him, it was to hopefully get answers. Not because I feared you wouldn’t, but because I felt like I might be able to.
I wanted to believe I could contribute to this situation and push us closer to knowing what to do. ”
He kissed my cheek then sighed. “Carina, you always contribute.”
“But in this regard, I didn’t want to be some backseat spectator when I could potentially help as his sister, as the only one who’d ever been close enough to even partly get through to him.”
He shook his head, calm and still not mad, simply denying what I said. “I heard him, Carina. I heard his end of the call. You are not getting through to him.”
I frowned, hating to be put on the spot like this. Because he was right. Arturo had dismissed me as someone who “didn’t know anything”.
“I don’t think you ever will again.”
I had to give him credit for acknowledging that fact when I couldn’t.
“You’re not mad at me?”
He shook his head and rested his hand on my thigh to stroke it back and forth gently.
“You don’t think I’m a spy?”
He shook his head again. Gripping my thigh, as if he wanted the reassurance that I was here with him, as his, he leaned in to kiss me.
“Carina, this marriage might have been arranged in the beginning, but it’s anything but an arrangement now.”
I smiled, adoring him even more for saying something like that, for owning up to it.
“Arranged for a reason that I feel like I’m finally understanding.
” Arturo hadn’t wanted me to spy. He hadn’t wanted me to represent how strong the families’ partnership was.
He had only wanted me out of the way to rule the Cartel as he saw fit—right down to ruin.
“It began as an arrangement,” I said, framing his face. “But it’s strengthened by love.”
He kissed me, owning me with that hungry press of his lips against mine. Passion sparked between us instantly, and I clung to him as he showed me that he agreed.
“It is,” he said when he pulled back at last, leaving us both breathless and panting for more. “And I will never stop loving you.”
My heart swelled as I heard those sweet, tender words. He wasn’t vowing them dramatically. They came out as a gruff growl. An intense promise. They blanketed me with a realization that I could hold him to it, too.
Maksim Volkov loved me. His arranged wife. And he always would.
No matter if he should be mad or vexed with me.
Even when he had every reason to assume I was hiding something.
He loved me.
“I love you too,” I whispered, shifting so that I could straddle him.
He roughly shoved at my towel, and the plush fabric gave away freely. It skimmed over my sides, tickling me. Bare to him as he sat here in his suit, I felt like a gift he had unwrapped for himself. A treat that would bring him pleasure. And I intended to give him exactly that.
Reaching between us as we made out, I hurried to unzip his pants and free his cock.
The hard, rigid erection tented the material of his garments.
Like a coming attraction. A teasing preview.
The solid thickness of his shaft turned me on faster.
On the brink of desperation, I moaned into his mouth as he sucked on my tongue.
Desire coursed through me, lighting up my nerves. I fumbled, arching toward him as he ran his hands over my sides. Caressing me. Tenderly stroking his calloused hands over me. Making me shiver to be the recipient of his possessive touch.
“I love you,” I repeated as I dragged my mouth away for a frantic gulp of much-needed air.
He set his hands on my hips and gestured for me to rest my knees on the cushion of the chair and rise up.
Once I was upright, my breasts level with his face, he latched on to one and sucked with vigor.
Suctioning kisses on my flesh sent a zing of potent need straight to my pussy.
Then when he licked around my nipple, I shivered and moaned.
Hugging his head to my breasts, loving the greedy treatment from his mouth, I sighed and barely registered that he’d lifted me not so he could avoid speaking, but because he shifted upward too.
His hands moved over my bare pussy with my legs spread wide open over him, kneeling on the chair like this.
But he wasn’t trying to torment me or tease me further, although that was what happened.
He was only rushing to finish unzipping his pants and shove them down his thighs.
His boxers went too. A shimmying, impatient shuffle of his stripping dragged on.
With his hot mouth positioned over my breasts, though, demonstrating how much more sensitive I was there, I knew that this was probably about as slow as we could go.
Once he sat again, removing his access to my nipples, he gripped my ass checks and directed me to sit on his lap again.
“Now, Carina. I can’t wait. I need?—”
I dipped my head down and kissed him, easing over his thighs once more. This time, his dick was free. The stiff mast stood upright, and I didn’t delay in fitting him to my pussy and taking him in. Stretching. Sucking him inside.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered.
“Every time,” he growled, thrusting upward to me. “Every time is better than the last.”
I was seated on him, all the way to the hilt. He was wedged as far as he could go, giving me that wickedly delicious fullness that I would crave for the rest of my life.
This was it. This was all I needed to survive.
The love from my husband as he completed me.
Resting against him and letting the moment build, I trembled under the caress of his big, hot hands stroking up my back.
Once, twice. Then as he settled one hand on the back of my neck and the other securely cupping my ass, he tipped my head back.
He urged me to lift my face off his shoulder so he could sear me with his smoldering gaze. “I love you, Carina. And I will do everything in my power to always give you what you need. What you deserve.”
I lifted up, hearing the slick, sluicing sounds of my arousal. Unashamed to be this soaked for him, I kissed him tenderly as an agreement. As an acknowledgment that I heard every word of his promise.
“I love you, too, Husband.” I swore, every time we doled out that L-word, I creamed and gushed a little more for him. “And I will do everything I can to?—”
“Fuck.” He grunted harshly as I sank back down. “Talk… later. Fucking hell. You’re so tight. Fuck me. Ride me. Now.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I grinned, teased into happiness and excitement that I could experience on his lap.
Sealing my mouth over his, I gyrated on his lap and rode him.
Arching my back so I could rub my breasts against his chest. The contrast of his shirt and jacket versus my bare skin only heightened the friction.
Kissing him and earning every possessive clutch of his fingers on my ass cheeks, I bounced on his dick.
“Let me see,” he demanded.
I leaned back, putting inches between us as I fucked him on the chair.
He kept his hands on my ass, keeping me in place, and I repositioned my hands on the very edge of the armrest. Holding the hard polished wood knobs of the furniture, I reclined so that he could see where his shiny dick was swallowed up by my pussy.
Slanting back like this put more pressure on me to come.
But it was the sight of him so fixated on me that tormented me the most.
He looked like a madman, obsessed with what I did to him.
He seemed unhinged, like his very sanity depended on me fucking him.
When he lifted his hand and moved it toward my clit, though, I knew that I wasn’t going to last. It already felt so good. I was already pushed so close to climaxing.
He licked his fingers before placing them on my clit, rubbing steady circles, just like he knew I would appreciate.
More tension whipped through me, coiling tighter and tighter.
Maybe it was because I was pregnant. Or perhaps it was due to us declaring our love for each other aloud, for the first time.
But something about knowing I could ride this magnificent and dangerous man like this tripped me into a heady mind space of bliss. Under his touch, with his hard dick rammed up inside me like this, massaging my slippery inner walls, I was spent.
I came with a blinding pressure of euphoria. Endorphins flooded through me, capturing me in this state of pure bliss.
“That’s it. That’s it, Carina. Fuck, yes.”
As I cried out and trembled under the severity of the orgasm, I closed my eyes and tried to hold on to the ends of the armrests. Through the waves of pleasure, I soared. I sank. I drowned. And I was floating again, truly sent out of this world how he made me feel.
But he wouldn’t let me fall. He didn’t plan on dropping me or watching me crash. Not like this. Keeping his hands on my ass, he tried to push his hips up and continue fucking me.
“Fuck— You— I need you—” He could barely string his words together, but I heard enough of them that I got the point. Through the haze in my mind, I understood that I needed to see to his pleasure too.
He deserved it. And more.
Righting myself on his lap, I slumped over him and set my hands on the top of the chair, one hand on either side of his head.
Riding him again, powering through the aftershocks of my first orgasm, I doubled down to make him come. Faster and harder, I danced on his cock. My breasts ached, so heavy and sensitive, especially with how they bounced so freely and jiggled so much as I moved.
He gritted his teeth, staring at my tits while he dug his fingers into my ass.
But then as I started to come again, swamped with the intensity of another climax, he locked his smoking-hot stare on me. Watching me and looking me dead in the eye as he pushed up hard.
“Maksim!” I cried out over and over as I was hit again with another orgasm.
“Oh, fuck.” He clutched me close as his dick jerked deep inside me, filling me with his cum and marking me, undisputedly, as his wife. His lover. The one he’d always protect and need.