Chapter 19 Maksim #2
I want her broken open with pleasure. I want her ruined for anyone else.
Her cry still echoes when I shove her pants over her hips and down her thighs, not bothering with finesse. I want her bared for me, trembling, and already begging by the time I’ve got my cock between her legs.
She scrambles for balance against the shelf, hands gripping wood that groans under the pressure.
My cock is straining so hard it hurts, and I don’t waste another second. I shove her panties aside, fingers sliding through her slick folds once more just to hear her gasp. “Already so wet for me. You tried to run from me but your cunt stays loyal.”
She moans, her head tipping back, throat exposed.
My patience snaps.
I unzip and free myself, dragging my cock against her folds, coating myself in her heat.
She jerks at the contact, her hips bucking, chasing me even as her voice stutters. “Maksim—”
I grab her face, squeezing her cheeks until her lips part. “What.”
Her eyes are wide, shining with lust. “Take me. Hard. I… I need it. I need you.”
That’s all I need. I slam into her with one brutal thrust, burying myself to the hilt. Her scream tears through the room. She’s so tight around me, I see stars, her walls clenching greedily like they never wanted to let me go in the first place.
“Mine,” I snarl against her lips, setting a punishing rhythm. Each thrust drives her higher against the shelf, the junk on it rattling and creaking under us. “You will never run from me again.”
Her nails rake down the front of my shirt, sharp enough to sting. Every little sound that escapes her feeds my hunger. I shift my grip, one hand locking around her throat, thumb pressing under her jaw, tilting her head back so I can watch every flicker of expression as I pound into her.
Her mouth falls open on a cry, her thighs tightening around my hips, dragging me deeper.
“That’s it,” I growl, grinding hard against her, feeling her clench tighter. “You love this, don’t you? Being filled by me, fucked until you can’t think.”
She shakes her head weakly, denial dying on her tongue as her body betrays her again. A strangled sob escapes her, her hips rolling to meet mine in desperate rhythm. “Yes, yes, I love it. I love it!”
The words detonate something inside me. My cock throbs deep in her, and I slam into her cunt harder, faster. Her body seizes suddenly, her walls clamping down so tight I nearly lose it. She cries out my name, shattering in my arms, her orgasm ripping through her.
I groan, teeth sinking into the side of her neck as I pound her through it. “Good girl. Keep coming for me. Show me who owns you.”
I don’t stop until my own climax shudders through me, heat flooding inside her as I bury myself deep and fill her until she drips. I keep her pinned there, refusing to let go. My forehead rests against hers, and I drag in a deep breath, savoring the sight of her wrecked and undone beneath me.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
She looks ruined, and she is, I made sure of it.
Pulling out of her makes her whine, a helpless little sound she bites down on too late. My cock slides free with a wet sound, and I watch as my cum leaks out of her and runs down the insides of her thighs.
I catch it with my fingers, pushing it back into her greedy cunt before she can flinch away. Her sharp inhale makes me smile. “Keep it in. A reminder of who you belong to.”
She’s shaking her head faintly. “You’re insane.”
I lean in, lips brushing the shell of her ear, my fingers still buried inside her. “No, solnishko. I’m inevitable.”
We’re just stepping back out onto the street again when everything changes.
The first shot cracks through the air loudly.
Brick splinters beside my head, showering down grit that stings my cheek. The sound reverberates off the walls, a brutal reminder of how close it had come. Instinct seizes me before any thoughts can form.
I shove Ivy hard back into the alley wall where we’d come from, my body a barrier between her and the threat as my hand yanks the gun from the holster hidden under my jacket free.
“Stay down,” I bark, scanning for movement.
I sweep the street, pulse steady, movements automatic. Training takes over where thought cannot. My eyes track the rhythm of shadows. The twitch of movement at the far end of the street catches my attention within seconds.
Three shapes emerge from across the street.
They move with purpose, weapons already raised and aimed at me. I don’t wait. My arm lifts, my finger squeezes around the trigger, and the recoil slams against my palm. One man crumples instantly, catching the bullet straight in the head. Another staggers back before collapsing in a heap.
The third dives, rolling to cover behind a nearby car.
I adjust, ready to finish it, but pain erupts from the opposite side, a white-hot detonation tearing through my shoulder. It’s sudden enough that it almost knocks me off my feet. I grit my teeth and return fire, two more rounds cutting through the air. One hits home. The figure drops to the ground.
Behind me, Ivy screams my name.
Her voice pierces straight through the haze of being shot.
It slices deeper than any bullet, sharper than the pain ripping through my shoulder.
My head jerks toward her on instinct, but the motion nearly pitches me forward.
My shoulder is dead weight, dragging me down as I move, the wound close to my heart.
It leaks blood, coating my arm and hand as it travels quickly.
A shadow has barreled from the mouth of the alley, arms snapping around Ivy within seconds of her calling out to me. She thrashes like a wildcat, kicking and clawing, her voice ragged with fury and terror as she screams at the person behind her to let her go.
But he’s bigger, stronger. His arms lock across her chest and waist, dragging her away from me step by brutal step.
“No!” The roar tears out of me, lifting my gun and hearing the horrific sound of the barrel jamming.
I lunge forward, but my wounded shoulder betrays me. It seizes and sends me stumbling. My vision fractures again, spots bursting across my sight as I fight not to collapse.
There is a van already waiting. Black steel, back doors yawning wide. He shoves her inside.
She kicks, her heel slamming against the doorframe, her hands clawing for purchase to try and sit upright. For a single, burning second her eyes meet mine, begging me to get to her. To rescue her.
And then the door slams, her scream cuts off, our connection severed in an instant.
One of the drivers has the window already rolled down, a gun with a silencer pointed straight at me. I’m given two seconds of a head start to dive back into the alleyway, the bullet whizzing by me, nearly catching my ear.
The engine roars, tires squealing as the gas pedal is pressed to the floor. The van surges forward, smoke curling off the rubber as it peels away from the curb and down the road.
I stagger toward one of the fallen bodies, grabbing a discarded gun and raising it, firing. Sparks explode across the van’s rear doors, bullets ricocheting uselessly against reinforced steel. The recoil tears through my wounded shoulder, sending fresh waves of fire down my arm, but I don’t stop.
I can’t.
The van fishtails, engine howling as it tears down the street, red taillights vanishing.
As useless as it is, I chase after it. Broken strides, blood soaking through my clothes. I run until the magazine clicks empty, until my lungs burn.
Ivy is gone.