Chapter 23
Anya
I hear the bedroom door open while I'm still in the closet, wearing my robe, picking out something to wear before going down to dinner. I look at the selection of cashmere sweaters and take a deep breath, trying once again to push away the anxiety his promise stirred up.
I'll be back early today.
Keeping his word, Maksim appears in the closet doorway, still in his coat, his hair damp from melted snow. He stands there for a moment, leaning against the frame, just watching me. The way those gray eyes study me is different—I've never seen him like this, and I don't know what it means.
“Are you okay?” I ask carefully.
Maksim takes a moment to respond, as if weighing whether to give me the easy answer or the honest one.
“I am. After a long time, I'm okay.”
He answers with sincerity, and I feel a quiet satisfaction that he chose to be honest with me.
I don't know what happened in the hours he was away, and part of me whispers that I'd rather not know, but whatever it was, it lifted a weight from his shoulders. I can see it in the way he's standing there, watching me without any rush, wearing the calm expression of someone appreciating the view.
The bracelet that belonged to his mother now weighs on my wrist. I run my hand over it and shift nervously, anxious about what I'm about to say. I take a step toward him.
“Maksim.”
“Svetlana.”
We speak at the same time. Both of us full of things to say and short on courage. I take another step and stop in front of him. Close enough to smell cigarette smoke, leather, and cologne. I take a deep breath before speaking:
“I'm asking now.”
He knows what I mean. We've been dancing around this for weeks, both too proud to give in, but I'm done waiting.
Maksim raises his hand, brushes the hair from my face, and lets his fingers trail softly across my cheek. He leans down just slightly, his mouth hovering over mine.
“You don't need to ask anymore, Solnyshko. For anything.”
I feel his lips on mine before I even understand what he means.
Maksim has given in too, just like me, and from here on out, it's uncharted territory.
I know how to handle the provocations, the pride, being left alone most of the time…
what I don't know how to handle is a man who kisses me with so much desire.
So much devotion. With a hunger that could devour me.
I throw my arms around his neck and deepen the kiss, not wanting to let him go. Maksim grabs my thighs with both hands and lifts me easily, the same way he did the other night. I gasp in surprise—not so much from being lifted, but from his hard cock pressing between my legs.
He carries me out of the closet and across the room, stopping beside the bed. Like every time since I arrived, Maksim surprises me, laying me down on the mattress more gently than I expected. He pulls away just enough to take off his shirt, yank off his belt, and leave his pants unbuttoned.
His hesitation to fully undress bothers me—again that suggestion he might back out. But a more optimistic part of me believes he's giving me space to change my mind. All this unspoken communication between us is strange, but it works.
I sit up on the bed and reach for him, hooking my fingers into his waistband and pulling him toward me. Maksim lowers himself on top of me, braced on his forearms, and kisses me again.
Every time his mouth claims mine, or I feel the light scratch of his stubble against my skin, my body burns. His rough, calloused fingers slip inside my robe, parting it enough to expose my breasts.
“Gorgeous,” he murmurs, his mouth so close to my nipple I can feel his hot breath on my skin.
When his tongue touches my breast, an electric shock runs through me, straight to my bare pussy. I rub my thighs together, trying to contain the pulsing desire and the wetness already building.
“Breathe,” he murmurs against my skin. “We have all night.”
“I don't want to wait all night.” I pull his hair to bring his mouth back to mine. “I want you now.”
He laughs low, a hoarse sound that echoes through the room and reverberates inside me.
“You'll have me now.” His fingers pinch a nipple, then move to the fabric of the robe. “And then all night.”
Maksim tears the robe off me and grunts when he finds me completely naked underneath. With so little experience, it's hard not to feel shy under his intense gaze, but I don't cover myself. I let him look. Let him admire me. His eyes travel down my body slowly, attentively, capturing every detail.
“Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. “You have no idea.”
“Idea of what?”
“What you do to me.” His hand slides up the side of my thigh, over my hip, along my waist, as if memorizing me. “For weeks, all I've done is think about you and how badly I want to fuck you.”
Before I can gather the words to respond, he sucks my nipple hard, making my eyes roll back. His tongue is hot and insistent, and the stubble scratches my skin in a way I've never felt before.
His hand dances across my body, and when his fingers slip between my legs, he lets out a gasp that sounds more like a grunt. His fingertips tease my drenched pussy, spreading the wetness everywhere.
“All wet for me,” he says. “Look at that, and I haven’t even done anything yet.”
Lost in the delicious sensation of his fingers lazily circling my clit, I spread my legs wider, giving him better access. Maksim picks up the pace, keeping the rhythm that makes me arch my back and sigh.
And instead of staying still, passive and waiting for him to take the lead like the other times, I start pulling off his pants.
Maksim helps, quickly shedding them, then hesitates for half a second, deciding whether to return to me in his underwear or completely naked.
“Take it all off,” I say.
“There’s no going back from here.”
“Good.”
His underwear drops to the floor, and there he is. Maksim Nikiforov in all his glory. Everything I’d imagined about his size, based on what little I’d felt before, didn’t do him justice. He’s big, thick, and wow…
A pang of nervousness hits me. My two times with average-sized guys weren’t exactly memorable, so how’s it going to be with this guy? Maksim takes another step toward me, and I shrink back slightly.
“Wait, I…”
I can’t finish the sentence, but I don’t need to. He looks at me intensely, frowns, and then asks:
“Svetlana, are you a virgin?” There’s a hint of surprise in his voice.
“What? No! Of course not!” I respond a little more hysterically than I’d like.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t think I’m going to be very good at this.” I gesture to the space between us. “When I did it before, it was quick and disappointing. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
It’s not easy for me to say this. I spent my life excelling at dance, got used to being the best, and admitting there’s a whole area where I’m a clumsy beginner is terrible.
But even with the discomfort, I don’t lower my eyes when I speak to him.
I face the problem head-on, and if Maksim has any concerns about this, I want to see it on his face.
He looks at me for a long second, serious, processing what I said, until he responds.
“Impossible.”
“What?”
“You’re not bad, Svetlana. You’ve just been with boys who didn’t know how to take care of you.”
“Maksim, I’m being serious,” I say as he approaches again. “I think I’m bad at this.”
“I disagree. But that doesn’t matter now.” He leans down and kisses me, slowly, and when he pulls away, his voice is huskier. “I’m going to make it good.”
Then he trails kisses down to my neck and lower still.
I feel his mouth reach my navel and trace along my hip bone, to the inside of my thigh, and when I realize where this is going, my heart races. Nervousness and arousal war inside me. Neither of the two idiots from my past ever thought about kissing me down there.
But he stops halfway, leaving me confused. I lift my head to see why and realize what he’s looking at.
My scar.
Just above my right knee, that irregular, whitish line marks the exact moment my life ended. Instinctively, I pull back, giving in to the impulse to bend my leg and hide the part of me I can’t stand to look at most days.
“No.” Maksim’s firm hand stops me from retreating. “You don’t need to hide from me, Solnyshko.”
Maksim looks into my eyes as he says it, then lowers his face and brings his lips there, to my knee, to the scar, and kisses it. Slowly. Carefully, without any rush, as if it weren’t the most broken thing in me but rather the most precious.
My throat closes suddenly. I didn’t expect this. I imagined he would ignore it or feel pity, but it’s nothing like that. My husband reveres this broken part of me as if it were as much a part of me as everything else. My eyes burn.
“Don’t stop,” I say, my voice faltering slightly.
“I’ll never stop, Solnyshko.”
His mouth travels back up, and when it finally reaches between my legs, I forget everything else.
His hot tongue starts at my entrance, finding every fold and crevice until it reaches my clit.
Maksim devours me like a starving man, without any delicacy, moving his tongue in a maddening rhythm and lapping up every drop.
My body writhes beneath him, seeking more. Begging for more. His large, tattooed hand splays across my flat belly, just below my navel, pressing down enough to keep me still.
“Still, Solnyshko,” he says, his voice hoarse, mouth pressed to my pussy. “Let me savor my wife.”
“Maks, please.”
I beg him to go faster, but he doesn’t comply. He rubs his stubble against my thighs, taking his time. He’s savoring me, just like he said.
When he went back to sucking my pussy, his tongue worked my clit relentlessly and I felt a long, thick finger slide inside me. My inner walls clenched with delicious little electric shocks as I felt him curve that first finger, only to pull it out and slip in another.
“So delicious,” he murmured between licks. “So tight.”
I felt the orgasm building inside me, getting closer and closer. I grabbed Maksim’s short hair, trying to pull him toward me, but he sensed it and pulled away.
“No,” I moaned, almost furious. “Come back.”
“You’re going to come on my cock, Svetlana.” His large body loomed over mine. I could see the outline of his lips glistening with my wetness and a smile tugging at the corners. “Like a good wife.”
My pussy pulsed at the praise.
He kissed me and I lost my breath. I’d never tasted myself before—it always seemed too performative to lick my fingers after masturbating—but now that I was tasting myself on his tongue, I couldn’t help thinking I liked it.
I think I liked it because it was him. Maksim, completely lost in the kiss after eating my pussy until I was almost there.
I felt his cock pressing against my entrance and for a moment I tensed. He was too big, and I felt tighter than I should be.
“Relax, Solnyshko,” he murmured, biting my earlobe. “You can take all of me. Trust me.”
Maksim rocked slowly back and forth, testing my entrance, opening me a little more each time.
The kisses he scattered along my neck helped distract me and relax my body.
Gradually, the stretch became more and more pleasurable, and when I looked down to where we connected, I saw he was already almost all the way inside.
A sudden worry struck me. I pressed my hand against his tattooed, rigid abdomen—a clear signal for him to stop.
“Condom,” I said quickly. “You need to put one on.”
“We’re married, Anya.”
My nickname sounded husky in his arousal-thick voice. I loved it, but I didn’t understand what he meant.
“I’m not on birth control, and when we talked about children…”
Maksim cut me off with a kiss. It was longer and slower than the others, but no less hungry. He moved against me, sinking his cock a little deeper, making my moan echo through the room.
“We’ll schedule a doctor’s appointment for you.” His movements were slow, in and out. “But I need to feel all of you today.”
I should have thought it through, I knew that. But I couldn’t.
The sensation of his weight on top of me, his beard scratching my neck, the sighs, his thick cock stretching me… I just wanted more.
“Make me come, Maks.”
The low request awakened something in him. Maksim lifted his torso, adjusted his position between my legs, and began thrusting with more rhythm. The new angle made my eyes roll back, and with each thrust, a long sigh escaped me.
“That’s it,” he groaned when I spread my legs wider. “That’s it. You were born for me, Anya.”
I couldn’t even respond. I just clung to the sheet with one hand while the other gripped the fist closed around my neck. In that moment, I was nothing but arousal, sighs, and moans. I was too close.
Maksim seemed to notice, because he grabbed one of my legs, brought it to his shoulder, and leaned forward. Now his cock hit the deepest point inside me, sending shivers through my body. The hand that had been on my neck released. He slid his thumb into my mouth, urging me to suck it, and I did.
“Maksim,” I gasped. “I’m going to…”
His wet thumb slid down to where our bodies met, finding my swollen clit crying out for release.
“Come,” his deep voice ordered. “Come for me. Now.”
And I came.
Ecstasy took over my body, sending tremors from my toes to my fingernails digging into the mattress. My core pulsed and tightened, making the place where his cock filled me increasingly sensitive and deliciously sore.
As my orgasm faded, I noticed Maksim’s movements growing more erratic and urgent, until he shuddered and followed me over the edge, coming inside me with a husky, powerful grunt.
His forehead dropped to my shoulder and we stayed like that for a moment, panting, pressed together, hearts racing. After a moment, my husband pulled out, leaving me with the strange sensation of being empty.
Maksim rolled onto his back and pulled me to him in a movement that seemed automatic. I nestled my face against his chest, draped my leg over his, and listened to his heart slowly winding down.
I felt his heavy hand gently stroking my hair and closed my eyes, savoring this moment of peace. I let the bracelet he’d given me rest cool against his warm chest as I caressed him. Still a little dazed and boneless, I scolded myself for being so stupid.
I’d spent weeks fighting against this, against him. As if this were a war.
It wasn’t.
There was nothing like war here.