13. Maya
MAYA
When I wake the next day, the first thing that I become aware of is the feel of his hand on my hip.
It feels as though he is reaching deep into my subconscious, pulling me out of sleep and back to the real world, as I stir tiredly, lifting my head from the pillow.
It takes me a moment to remember where I am, who I’m with, but when I hear the slight sigh from behind me, my heart skips a beat, and it all comes flooding back.
I sneak a look over my shoulder, and, sure enough, there he is.
Anton.
I bite my lip as I watch him for a moment, laying there right next to me. I still don’t know how I got the nerve to ask him to stay the night with me, and I had expected him to hit me with a gruff refusal.
But he didn’t.
He’s shirtless, and the covers have fallen away from his chest slightly to reveal his bare skin.
Woah, he’s way more muscular than I had imagined; I haven’t really seen him undressed till now, and I feel my cheeks flush slightly at the realization that I’m in bed with such a gorgeous man.
I swiftly flip over once more, staring at the far wall, but his hand does not move from my side for an instant. In fact, it’s like it has been there all night long, and he has no intention of letting me go.
I close my eyes again, trying to will myself to go back to sleep, but my mind is racing so intently that I know the chances of that are next to nil. I can feel a fizzing in my lower belly, something alighting in me that I don’t want to ignore.
Does he know what he does to me? Does he feel it, too? There’s so much I want to ask him, but I figure the best way I can go about it is to say it without words...
Experimentally, I lean back into him, feeling his warm body against mine. He lets out another sigh, and wraps his other arm around me, pulling me against him in his sleep.
My heart skips a beat. Is this just unconscious for me or is there a part of him responding to the way I’m pulling in closer and closer? I want to ask, but I hardly dare speak right now, in case I shatter this moment before I have a chance to see where it leads.
The hand on my waist slides forward slightly, so that it is resting on my lower belly—low enough now that I can feel the heat of it spreading down between my legs, and I press my lips together, trying to contain myself.
His fingers trace along the top of my waistband, and I hear him let out another noise.
Not a sigh this time, but something closer to a groan, as he flattens his palm against me and draws me in a little closer.
My breath catches in my throat, and I allow him to guide me exactly as he wants me, the warmth starting to grow faster and faster as it consumes more of my body.
I can feel his erection, the press of it into the small of my back.
Morning wood? No, as he grinds his hips lazily against me, I know it is more than just a reaction to the night that has passed.
I bite my lip, closing my eyes, and his hand strays further down, slipping with ease beneath the waistband of my sweatpants and cupping my aching pussy.
I have no spare panties here, so I have been going without, and I’m all of a sudden glad that I could give him such easy access to every inch of me like this.
His fingers slide between my lips, parting them with ease and allowing him even deeper access to me. I’m already slick with desire, as if my body has been simmering all night being this close to him, silently pleading for more even when I was deep in slumber.
His mouth grazes along the back of my neck, and a shiver rushes down my spine as I arch back into him.
I begin to move my hips back against his hand, telling him in every way I can that I’m ready for more—that I ache for it, that I need it, that I need him right now.
I know there’s so much danger outside of this cabin, but when it is just the two of us, I could swear that there’s nothing else in the world that could possibly matter.
He strokes my clit softly, letting me set the pace as he coaxes me into wakefulness with a delicious pleasure. He kisses me again, his teeth grazing against the nape of my neck, and I gasp.
He works his fingers downward, letting them tease my slit for a moment, and I whimper, unable to say it out loud, but needing him more than anything in the world.
He withdraws this hand, pulling a pout to my lips, but he swiftly moves his fingers to the waistband of my sweatpants once more, working them down my body with ease as though he can’t think of anything he wants more.
Through his own sweatpants, I can feel his straining erection, the damp drop of pre-cum that has already leaked from his tip, unable to hide that he wants this just as badly as I do.
I wiggle my butt against him as I wait for him to free his erection, which he makes short work of, pulling himself into his hand and rubbing himself up against me a few times so I can feel just how hard he is for me.
He still has not spoken, but he slips his hand to my neck, pulling me towards him, our tongues coming together as he guides himself against me as though there is nothing that we could say that we could not communicate better with our bodies.
Finally, he positions himself at my entrance, and I groan as I feel the weight of him there, the promise of his cock inside of me.
It is almost becoming familiar now, the anticipation of everything that he is going to give to me so intense I feel as though I’m teetering at the very brink of what I need.
And then, in a single motion, he grabs my hip and pulls me back on to him, and I bury my face in the pillow to try and contain the cry of pleasure that wants to escape me.
The feel of him within me, fuck, it’s intense. Even more so from this angle, with my legs pressed together, making my grip feel even tighter than it did before.
He lets out a satisfied groan, circling his hips against me, holding our bodies flush together, before he begins to fuck me properly, his cock pistoning in and out, in and out of me, as the morning sunlight dapples across the bed around us.
The sound of our breath mingles as we fuck, my hand groping back for his body so that I could pull him even deeper inside of me.
Does he have any idea how good he feels right now?
I wish I could find some way to express it, some way with words to tell him, but all I can do is moan and pray that it is enough to convince him that he is giving me everything I need.
His hand roams all over my body, greedily groping at my breasts and my belly and my hips as he takes me right there in the bed.
Our limbs are entangled, his mouth pressed to that spot where my throat and my ear met, the part that is almost painfully sensitive, but that seems to be what he wants from me.
To push me to that point of no return, to make it so that there is nowhere for me to go, nothing for me to do, but give myself over to him, just as he wants me to.
He draws back and slams deep suddenly, drawing a cry from between my lips, just as his hand skirts down to my pussy once more so that he can play with my clit as he fucks me. He seems to make the most of this position, the fact that my body is completely on display for him to do with as he pleased.
It’s not like in the car, when we were so frantic and forced together, little space between us for anything other than how badly we needed this.
He slows his pace slightly, circling his hips against mine to match the movement of his fingers on my clit, and I gasp as I feel the orgasm beginning to rise within me, faster than I can take hold of it.
He bites down softly on my earlobe, and I can feel the grin on his face even where I can’t see it.
He slams himself deep one last time and holds himself there, fingers still circling my clit over and over again—my pussy tugs and squeezes on his cock, the tantalizing edge of my release so close I can almost taste it.
And then, with another throaty moan, I let it happen, the orgasm pulsing from between my legs to every nerve-ending in my body.
I try to bury my face in the pillow, but he slips his hand beneath my cheek, pushing me back towards him, so that I can look into his eyes as I come.
And, as I stare at him, I wonder if this is his intention, making it so that I associate looking at his face with mind-binding pleasure...
He grunts as he finishes inside of me, and I feel the flood of his warm seed fill me, as if he is claiming his territory, making it known that I belong to him.
Even if there’s nobody else here to see it, I can feel it, can feel how much he wants me.
And that, no matter what I might try to do to convince myself otherwise, I crave him in just the same way.
“Fuck,” he groans, finally speaking his first word of the day as he stirs his hips against mine for another few moments. “You feel so fucking good, Maya...”
I’m still breathing hard and can do nothing other than reach out to him, grazing my fingers through his hair as I awkwardly turn myself over to meet his lips with mine.
“Good morning,” I greet him, slightly giddy from the intensity of the pleasure we just shared. He chuckles, kissing me back.
“Good morning,” he replies.
I love the way his voice sounds first thing in the morning, another little detail of him that I got the chance to uncover. I’m learning so much about him, those little parts of him that almost nobody else got a chance to uncover, and I want nothing more than to spend a little longer…
But before I can let myself sink into the comfort of his presence, I hear something.
A phone ringing, from the next room. His bedroom.
My heart sinks. I doubt that he is exactly taking social calls at the moment, and, sure enough, he draws back from me at once, a frown on his face as he swings his legs out of bed.
“I have to take that...”
I think of protesting, asking him to stay with me in bed a while longer, but I guess I have already asked enough of him for the time being. Instead, I watch as he re-arranges himself, pulling up his sweatpants and pushing a hand through his hair before he strides out to take the call.
I follow him with my gaze, the way the muscles in his back flex with every motion, and wish he could be lying in bed, letting me trace then with my fingertips instead of dealing with whatever has demanded his attention.
I lay there in bed, able to hear the rumble of his voice from the next room, though I cannot make out the specifics of what he is saying.
Maybe that’s for the best. I doubt I want to know, really, what is going on out there in the real world.
Probably better for me to keep my head down and try to stay out of it.
Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, that’s what my father would have said, though I had always hated when he spoke to me like that, as though I was nothing more than a little girl.
And I guess I’m long past the point of having an easy out from here.
Anton changed when he found out about the baby; even if it hadn’t been for everything that had happened with his brother, I know now that he is not going to ease up, not going to let go, not going to allow me to slip through his fingers...
Suddenly, the door opens again, and Anton returns—though the look on his face is a far cry from the tender one he had shared with me in bed just a few moments before.
I prop myself up, frowning at him. “What’s going on?”
“We’re leaving.”
I stare at him for a second. “What are you talking about?”
He glances at me, as though confused that I do not understand. “I said, we’re leaving,” he repeats himself, as though this might just be a matter of me not being able to hear what he is saying.
“I thought it wasn’t safe to go back to the city yet,” I protest, though I’m sure it is useless. I can tell from the look on his face, the steely expression in his eyes, that he’s already made his mind up about this, and nothing is going to move him from his choice.
“My men have secured a new safehouse in the city, an apartment block,” he explains. “I can get back in there. Deal with the shit my brother has been pulling—”
“But what if he comes after me again?” I ask, my voice laced with more fear than I ever knew I was capable of. I know that I need to be careful here, not just for myself, but for my child. For our child.
As soon as I mention that, though, his eyes darken. “You’ll be with me,” he replies curtly. “Where I can be sure that you’re safe.”
“Anton—”
“I’ll make some coffee and then we’re going,” he tells me, turning to walk out of the room.
And just like that, I’m alone again, trying to make sense of everything that has just happened. Because how can I go from the soaring high of his body against mine, his sweet, sleepy tones when he greeted me, to this?
I guess I’m going to have to get used to it, especially if he is so intent on keeping me at his side.
This man, for all that he seems to care for me, seems intent on looking out for me, wants to control me—he might call it protection, but I can see it for what it is, and I’m not sure if I should be so quick to give in to it.
But, at the same time, I’m not sure how much of a choice I have in the matter. And the best thing for me right now might be keeping my head down and praying that I can stay out of trouble.
Even if it feels like we are walking back into a mess bigger than any I have known before.