37. Maksim
MAKSIM
Iheld Carina close and noticed her breaths evening out. Keeping her in my embrace seemed like such a small thing to do, but it was what she seemed to need.
Comfort. Reassurance.
Love.
In a true one-eighty nature, I’d gone from the dark deed of killing her brother to the elation and brightness of hugging her tightly.
But that was life. That was our life, and we’d get through this storm of whatever she had to come to terms with now.
“I will never doubt you,” I told her sincerely. “In the beginning, I did. I had to. I didn’t know you and our arrangement was proposed in the middle of what I suspected was sabotage.”
She looked up at me and nodded. “I wasn’t too crazy about the idea either,” she admitted.
“I doubted why you were arranged with me and what you were really after. But once I opened my eyes and gave myself a chance to get to know you, to really understand who you are and all the potential you’ve held in for so long, there was not a single doubt in my mind.
” I kissed her, hoping she could feel the honesty I shared if she couldn’t hear it and let it sink in.
“There will never be a doubt in my mind,” I explained.
She sighed before reaching up to kiss me. Deeply. Slowly. Hungrily, like coming close to me was the antidote to all the ugly emotions she warred with.
“Because I know you, Carina. I see you and I will never have to suffer the unknowns that I did when I brought you into my life.” I slowly walked her back toward the bed, placing my hands on her back to guide her as she peppered kisses over my face.
“I understand this isn’t easy for you?—”
“But it is. It will be. Now that there aren’t any more questions about what he was doing or plotting, there’s no room to guess or wonder. His death was inevitable. And I accept that my place, my role, and my purpose are to be with you. Here.”
I kissed her as I lowered her to the bed, not giving her a chance to escape my hold. Lying over her but off to the side, I secured her against me.
“We will both accept all the changes that life will have in store for us.” I meant that in terms of her brother being dead, the fact that we had a child on the way, and the overarching threat of my uncle seemingly back from the dead to cause more hell.
She slid her fingers over the back of my neck as she gazed up at me, clear-eyed and level-headed. Trusting me and listening to all that I promised.
Killing Arturo marked the end of his life and his ability to mess with her.
But it also marked the start of our lives without that problem of his influence needing to be solved.
“I know you. And I love you. And you will never have to be stressed about me doubting you or where your intentions stand.”
She nodded, closing the distance between us to drug me with her sweet lips sealed to mine.
When we first met, sex was the common denominator between us. It linked us and tied us closer to each other until our heads and hearts could get on board with our marriage being the real deal.
Now, as she pried at my clothes and urged me to shed my shirt, it seemed like she was falling back to that strategy, the goal of stripping and feeling me as a distraction. As a means of venting her frustration and built-up emotions.
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy or wise to dive into physical intimacy when she was clearly emotional and not behaving logically. But she wasn’t under the throes of being illogical either.
I shifted up, hovering over her as I braced myself on one forearm to tug at her clothes.
Peeling her layers off and exposing her bare skin felt like a chance to reduce us to the simplest form we could be together.
It wasn’t a frantic race. It wasn’t a lazy exploration.
We both stripped and shed our clothes in an unhurried but meaningful revelation.
Flush together, our softer body cushioned against mine, we had nothing between us. No clothes. No reservations or hatred or guilt. Naked and with our flesh rubbing against each other’s we were elementally stripped down to how we mattered the most.
As a man and a woman in love.
As a husband and wife making love.
As mutual worshippers of each other.
Kissing her was paramount to anything else I could do or say. Keeping my mouth preoccupied with hers was all that I could dare to accomplish. And with every sensual brush and suction of her mouth over mine, and the playful and demanding slides of her tongue alongside mine, she reclaimed me.
I wasn’t her brother’s killer.
I was her lover.
She wasn’t the victim of losing the last of her family.
She was my muse.
Together, we ground against each other and rolled over on the mattress until I could lower my hand to the slick slipperiness between her legs.
I stroked my fingers through her arousal and marveled at how needy, how desperate, and how impatient she was as she parted her thighs to give me more access.
“I love you,” I told her again before lowering my head to lick and suck a circle around her breast.
“And I love you,” she whispered breathlessly as she arched her back to thrust her tits toward my face.
Almost on our sides, I canted her to fit against me. Teasing her wasn’t an option. Making her come and feel good was the only goal I had in mind.
She slid toward me as I urged her to lie back a bit more.
Once I lined my dick up to her soaking wet entrance, I set my hand on her ass.
Pushing her toward me as I thrust into her, I marked the exquisite freedom that stunned me every time I sank into her tight cunt.
She gloved me. She swallowed me. She coaxed me to drive in deeper and savor her gripping me so snugly.
Panting with need, she furrowed her brow as she lifted her hand to frame my face. “Oh, God. I need?—”
“Me too.”
I needed this heat.
This love and bond. This building pressure to come and welcome in the bliss of an orgasm that would obliterate all the worries in our lives even for just a few moments.
I would always need her, just like this. Always.
I kissed her, almost shivering with pleasure as she slipped her hand up into my hair, scraping her nails over my scalp on the back of my head.
I was in her, to the hilt. But before I could disappoint her in not giving her what she needed, what she wanted, I set up a steady pace of thrusts.
Shoving into her tight hole then pulling back out.
Pounding into her slick inner walls then dragging my cock over the sensitive flesh as she moaned and writhed with desire.
Too soon, I felt the first signs of her coming. She clenched around me. Her breasts heaved faster as she sucked in gasps of air. The tug of her fingers wrapped around my hair as she held on tight before letting go.
After her confession and worries and heartfelt vows to never let me doubt her, all her words of love and passion and commitment, I wasn’t going to try to prolong this. I couldn’t.
On the next deep thrust into her, my dick jerked.
My balls pulled up tight. And I shot my load into her, coming so hard that I squeezed my eyes closed and winched my arms around her.
She cried out at the same time, trembling as she draped her thigh over mine to secure herself around me without any break or gap.
We came together, and as we lay there afterward and caught our breaths, I realized that today wouldn’t have to be remembered as a day of death. Of an execution. With her in my arms, my child in her womb, we would always be able to come together in a celebration of life.
Of hope.
And of new beginnings. Some of which would start that night.
Carina fell asleep in my arms, and I slowly let her rest in peace in the bed.
I showered then contacted my brothers and cousins about all that would still need to be done.
Getting to a good place with my wife would always be a priority.
But I was a problem solver. And more problems remained to be solved.
I checked in with Alexei and Lev about the placement of the Cartel men who’d shown up with Arturo.
Dean called and explained the status of the runners and spies near the Garcia territory.
News of Arturo’s death hadn’t spread yet, but we wanted to control the narrative of that.
We intended to control—from a distance—as much as we could.
There was no denying that killing Arturo Garcia would be viewed as an opportunity for a takeover for Yusef Antonov and Gregori.
For any other imperialistic Cartel leader.
Later, after Carina woke up and showered, she came down to join me in the kitchen.
“Now what?” she asked. It seemed like an open-ended question that could invite an emotional reply, but she was pragmatic in asking it.
“Did he drive up here with anyone from the Cartel?” she asked as she crossed her arms and let out a sigh. “Anyone who needs to be spoken to?”
I nodded.
“I’m willing to do whatever would help the situation.”
I stood and hugged her. “I know you are. And we do need your expertise and guidance.”
She furrowed her brow, not even reacting to the concept of being needed. Or flattered. “Don’t tell me Antonov or anyone is already encroaching on the Cartel.”
“Not yet. But it’s inevitable.”
“Yes, it is. Because I can already identify a list of the Cartel members who would be the most impatient to take over and see this as a coup. And I have names ready for those who would be most receptive to allowing someone else to take over what remains. I also have a few names of the ones who would be most likely to accept the leadership of the Cartel and run it with the closest adherence to what my father expected.”
I took her hand and led her toward the door. “Then let’s go. Adrik has been waiting for us to show up and discuss the matter. The sooner, the better.”
“The sooner, the better for Antonov to fail in spreading his influence and reach,” she added, reiterating why and how we would always need to be concerned about what the Cartel did and how they operated south of the border from us.
We got into the car and left, ready to tackle business. As I drove, I held her hand. “Reinstating a trade agreement will be something that I would need to dedicate many hours to.”
“Definitely,” she agreed.
“My father and yours didn’t spring upon it overnight, and I’m not in any mindset to imagine that something new could be formulated instantly now.”
She nodded, watching the desert scenery blur by in a familiar stretch of red rocks and heat. “You can’t make an agreement until a de-facto leader is in place, anyway.”
“Yes, and there’s the matter of Adrik only being the interim Pakhan. Until my father passes, it’s still more or less in limbo. Setting up and planning a new trade agreement or alliance pact with anyone isn’t something that should be done at this time.”
“Then we can solve one thing at a time.” She glanced at me, her grip secure in my hand. “Address the question of who can take over the Cartel now, and then we can do our best to ensure whoever that is wouldn’t fall prey to the threat of your uncle taking over the world.”
I arched a brow at her. She wasn’t prone to exaggerating like that.
“The threat of anyone taking over the world as we know it,” she modified before squeezing my hand reassuringly and resuming her stare out the window for the rest of our drive.