33. Maxim
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
maxim
I lowered myself to my knees and moved her robe out of the way, watching her as I caressed the soft skin of the bones of her kneecaps. Her breath hitched, her pulse fluttering in her throat as her eyes dilated.
“Mrs. Volkova,” I breathed. “You’re like an angel.” My fingers made small circles on her skin. I wanted to savor the moment. Every moan, every heady sigh that she made.
“Max,” she breathed.
Brushing the fabric off her thighs, I let it fall on either side, exposing each long limb and her panties beneath. Rubbing my knuckles over the apex of her thighs and the wetness there, I watched as she threw her head back against the couch, her hips lifting infinitesimally.
“I can’t wait to taste you. You’re going to come for me.”
Leaning forward, I nuzzled her slit through the silk, breathing in her scent. I bit her clit lightly as she gasped and arched into my face.
“That’s it, zayka. That’s it.”
I leaned on my haunches and pulled out my knife, watching Cora steadily as I cut off her panties. She was glistening, dripping, her pussy swollen and pink. Rubbing my thumb over her, I watched as goosebumps scattered across her skin.
“Please, Max,” she moaned. “Please.”
Licking her slit, I let out a sigh of pleasure, that pineapple taste that was uniquely hers spreading over my tongue. God, I’d never get enough of her. Setting myself to the task, I took my time, eating her pussy like it was my life’s work, using my thumb to circle her clit steadily until she pushed into my face and gripped my hair.
“I’m so close. Don’t stop.”
I wouldn’t stop for anything. She cried out, her body bowing in its pleasure, her hips stuttering, and her pussy clenching, and then gushing into my mouth as I drank her down.
Easing away, I rubbed her lazily. “Bend over the couch for me, baby.”
My cock was fairly pulsing in my pants, and I was sure that I had a wet spot on my trousers. I couldn’t wait to bury myself in her. Her eyes lit up as she moved into position, holding onto the back of the couch.
“Push that ass out for me, bend further forward, and hold on tight.”
“Hurry,” she urged.
I laughed. My wife was perfect for me — so needy and eager. Gripping my cock, I squeezed it hard, trying to remind it who was boss. Notching it to her, I eased into her sheath, each movement an exquisite torture as she stretched to accommodate me. She was still dripping wet. I could feel the wetness between us, and there was nothing more intoxicating than the realization that I turned her on.
“Baby, you’re so wet. You’re taking my cock so well.”
“It feels so good, Max.”
I rammed into her, fucking her hard as I angled her hips so I could drive deeper, sliding my hands up her hips, kneading both cheeks, my hands digging into the flesh and her crack. Reaching forward, I pinched her clit, letting my fingers run over her flesh as I drove us both until I felt her flutter around me as she came.
I came in spurts before collapsing over her back for a moment, laying kisses on her spine. I’d never thought to find her.
I sat at the head of the oak table, a steaming mug of coffee cradled between my hands, the smell wafting into my nostrils. Coffee was one of my rituals — I suppose that wasn’t unusual. It was the smell more than the taste. Something about it reminded me of my mother in better times. She always had a cup of coffee by the windows, looking towards the gardens. It was one of the few things that had brought a smile to her face, even in bleak times.
Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room, but I was already focused on the day ahead. Lev stood across from me, his posture rigid as he flipped through a leather-bound notebook filled with figures, names, and the day’s priorities.
“Collections are running behind in Brooklyn,” Lev began, his voice steady. “One of the crews reported resistance from the local distributors. They’re claiming pressure from an independent group moving in from Jersey.”
I sipped my coffee, letting the bitterness settle on my tongue as I considered the implications. “Jersey? We’ve got no gaps there. If someone’s pressing up against our territory, they’re testing us.”
Lev nodded, his dark eyes narrowing. “Exactly. I’ve already sent a team to handle it. They’ll make an example of whoever’s stepping out of line.”
“Make sure it’s thorough,” I said. “If they’re bold enough to test us, we send a message they won’t forget. Anything else?”
“Supply chain issues from the docks. One of our contacts has been dragging his feet on deliveries,” Lev continued. “I’ll visit him personally if it continues.”
“See to it,” I replied. “We can’t afford delays. Not with everything in motion.”
Lev made a note in his book before flipping to another page. “Then there’s the Oliveto situation. Cosimo has a few more hours to deliver Caruso’s body. If he doesn’t, we’re looking at a serious breach.”
I placed the mug on the table with deliberate care, the slight clink echoing in the quiet room. “Cosimo knows the stakes. Caruso’s a liability, and we clarified that he’s responsible for closing it. If he fails, the consequences fall squarely on his shoulders.”
Lev’s lips tightened into a grim line. “And the information Caruso was supposed to bring? Without it, we’re going to be blind.”
Lev hadn’t been pleased that we’d let Oliveto have the concessions that we had, but there hadn’t been much of a choice.
“We’re not blind,” I said, my tone sharpening. “We know who we’re dealing with. If Cosimo delivers, we gain leverage. If he doesn’t, he’s out of play. Either way, the Olivetos don’t get a second chance to prove their loyalty.”
Lev leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Do you think Cosimo has it under control? Or do we need to start preparing for a cleanup operation?”
I leaned back in my chair, considering the question. Cosimo was seasoned but not infallible, and the situation with Caruso reeked of instability. “Prepare the cleanup. If Cosimo fails, we’ll move decisively. Caruso is a dead man one way or another.”
Lev gave a single, firm nod before closing his notebook. “Understood, pakhan. I’ll set everything in motion.”
The conversation paused, and the room briefly filled with the soft hum of the refrigerator. I picked up my coffee again, taking a slower sip as my mind churned through the web of alliances and betrayals that defined our world. Time was always against us, and hesitation cost lives if you weren’t careful.
The footsteps on the stairs drew my attention, and I turned my head toward the doorway. Cora appeared, her hair slightly tousled, her expression soft but curious. She paused at the threshold, her gaze flicking between Lev and me.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice light yet carrying the subtle undertone of someone assessing the room’s mood.
“Morning,” I replied, a hint of warmth creeping into my tone. “You’re up early.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” she admitted, stepping fully into the room. “What’s going on?”
Lev’s gaze shifted to me, waiting for direction. I gave him a slight nod, and he quietly gathered his things before heading toward the door. “I’ll report in later,” he said, his voice low as he exited, leaving me alone with Cora.
She moved toward the counter, fixing herself a cup of tea before taking the seat Lev had vacated. Her presence brought an odd sense of calm, a reminder of why the chaos and violence were worth enduring.
“Anything I should know about?” she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.
I let out a faint chuckle. “Plenty, but nothing that can’t wait.”
Her lips quirked into a small smile, and the weight of the morning’s discussions faded into the background for a moment.
She wrapped her hands around the mug and studied me for a long beat. “You look tired, Max. We should take a vacation.”
I exhaled softly, leaning back in my chair. “I didn’t sleep much either. Too much on my mind. A vacation sounds nice.”
Her brows furrowed, a flicker of concern in her gaze. “Is it about last night? Or something else?”
“Both,” I admitted. There was no point in pretending otherwise—Cora was sharp and knew enough to see through deflection. “The Oliveto situation is a mess; we can’t afford mistakes. I’m a little stressed, baby,” I admitted.
“Cosimo?” she guessed, tilting her head slightly.
I nodded. “He’s running out of time. If he doesn’t deliver, it’s his head. Ronnie sent me some of the backgrounds on the other families. The Vallones are in deep with a lot of nasty stuff.”
The Vallones were their own quagmire of shit that I was going to have to bring to the boys to help sort through. I should have dug into the families before arriving in New York to be more prepared. Now, I was kicking myself for having to play catch up.
Cora took a sip of her coffee, her expression thoughtful. “Do you trust Cosimo to come through?”
“No. Trust is a dangerous luxury.” I studied her across the table, curious at the direction of her thoughts. “Why do you ask?”
She shrugged one shoulder, though her gaze remained steady. “Because if you don’t trust him, you’re already preparing for him to fail.”
I smiled faintly, impressed as always by her perception. “I am.”
“Then what happens next?”
“Today, we go to Conall’s and see if Cosimo fails.” I raised a brow. “If he does … well, that’s a clusterfuck.”
Cora didn’t look away, her expression holding mine. There was no fear there—only understanding and something else I couldn’t quite name. Finally, she spoke, her voice quiet but resolute.
“I want to come.”
I looked at her for a long moment. The kitchen was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
“Are you sure,” I said finally, though the words felt heavier than they should. Things should be stable. That was the thought, anyway. “It should be safe, but there aren’t any guarantees in this line of work. It could be dangerous — and messy.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be someone who sits at home all the time waiting for the other shoe to drop.” She bit her lip. “I’d like to go with you when I can. I’m willing to learn to shoot and stuff.” She shifted on her feet.
There was a part of me that hated the idea and the other part that loved the idea. The meeting was going to be at Conall’s anyway. His building was virtually impregnable, the paranoid motherfucker.
“Okay, zayka, we can take it slow. Today you can come. We can see how you do.” Her face lit up like a beacon, and my cock tightened. Too bad we didn’t have time for a quickie.
A-Hole Chat
Ilias: T minus 15 to find out what Cosimo found out. 5k that he delivers
Angelo: 10k he says he found out nothing
Me: 100k that cut off Dante’s hands
Conall: wtf dude
Angelo: you’re whacked, Maxim
Ilias: just out of curiosity … nevermind — I’ll raise that 500k that he cut off the hands
Conall: fine, 500k he didn’t
Me: See you soon.