by L. L. Ash
“Are you saying you regret me?” I asked through my giggles.
Something about the way he’d kissed me was...it was different. It was him. I didn’t know how else to explain it. He kissed me because he wanted to. Not because he was horny, not because he was seducing me. Because he wanted...me.
“It’s almost nighttime,” he said, sitting up with a thorough grunt. “We’re not going to be able to sleep tonight.”
There are other things we can do…
“I’m sure you’ll sleep just fine,” I said instead, shoving my fanciful thoughts away. “You have so much healing to do.”
“I’m fine,” he said, lifting up the bandages on his arms to peek. “See? Doing better already.”
The man stood, grimacing at whatever pain he was feeling, then he headed toward the door while still cradling his arm.
“Max,” I called, going after him.
“I can piss by myself, kisa,” he said back, rounding the corner to find a tree or bush to relieve himself on.
The man was annoyingly independent, but he still made my heart race, like he always did. After playing that game...it changed things. So much made sense to me now. His pain, his goals, his life. Even the way he seduced me made sense. But I also knew that even if he was rough and irritating and blunt and cared little for feelings, there wasn’t a malicious bone in his body. His justice might be a little skewed, but he didn’t hurt those who didn’t deserve it. Which was why he didn’t hurt me. Physically, at least. But more than that, he didn’t let harm come to me. And to me, that said so much more than anything he uttered ever could.
He came wandering in more than half an hour later with his arm out of the sling, blood coating his hand and knife with the body of some hairy creature in his other hand.
“Maxim!” I groaned, hurrying to him when I noticed blood seeping through his bandages.
“I’m fine,” he said, tossing the little animal to the ground just away from our porch.
Sitting on the step, he gingerly took the animal in his hand, then grabbed the knife in his good hand and stabbed, then pulled the blade through the belly.
I backed away, nauseous as he cleaned and skinned the little beast.
“Maxim! What are you doing? You should not be moving around like this! You’re supposed to be healing.”
“Laying around like a bum never helped anyone heal,” he growled, pulling the skin viciously before flinging it toward the trees.
Some wild animal would find it and it would bring them closer to our cabin. It was why we slept underground. The wildlife could be unpredictable, as I found out the hard way.
“Besides, fresh meat will do me good.”
“What is that thing, anyway?” I demanded.
“Marmot. A rodent.”
“Ew!” I grimaced, and that made him laugh.
“Fine, I’ll have it all by myself. You can go have some of the other shit down in the bunker.”
Good. I wasn’t about to eat a relative to a rat.
He finished his cleanup and entered the hut with the carcass of the poor animal between bloody fingers.
“Don’t drip it on the floor,” I told him, and that made him freeze.
Little droplets of the animal's lifeblood littered the floor as he met my eyes.
“I’m not your kid, and I’m not your boyfriend. Don’t tell me what to do, kisa.”
“Oh, I can't, but you can?” I asked, watching a smile morph his serious face into one of amusement.
“I do because I’m your boss while we’re out here. Like it or not, you’d die in this place without me.”
“You’ll lead the wild animals in here,” I warned.
“The only thing we need to be worried about are wolves, cats, and bears. Bears are gone for the season, cats are further north, and wolves are supposed to be north too. Those we found the other day were...they weren’t supposed to be so far down from the mountains.”
“When some flesh-eating creature comes looking for dinner and you have to save me again, remember that it is your fault this time.”
He burst out into a laugh and I couldn’t help but chuckle too. I loved his smile.
“Go get your dinner, woman. Then you get to ask your next question.”
“Fine,” I agreed and went to what he called the bunker and got myself a packet meal.
“It’s looking better,” I told Max while I dipped the washcloth back in the warm water.
It’d taken some time to get the buckets of water to the cabin, but it was well worth it to stick my hands into the soothing water, anticipating a sort of bath myself.
“Sealed up?” he asked, trying to see his wounds as I cleaned them.
I nodded, patting so gently over the scabs that covered the bite marks. The larger scratch that ran across his collar bone was taking longer to heal, but overall I was impressed with how well it was doing.
“I think your round of antibiotics was a smart thing,” I said, dabbing his shoulder even still.
I just didn’t want to stop touching him.
He knelt in front of the warm water bucket, basking in the warmth of the roaring fire emanating from the stove.
“I can hardly feel it anymore,” he said. “I got lucky there wasn’t an infection or anything, and that the fuckers missed anything important.”
We’d cleaned his wounds with the saline for a few days, but Max had said he needed to save the stuff so we started cleaning it off with some of our water reserves. It had become a daily habit after the nine days since the attack. Only now had we begun to use water from the well.
“And my arms are basically healed by now,” he said.
“That they are,” I agreed, glancing down to see nothing but red, angry scars where the cuts used to be.
Taking the cloth from me, he rubbed it down his chest and underarms before dunking his head into the water with one big splash.
I laughed when the water droplets hit me on the legs, soaking into my jeans in little dark blue dots.
He flipped his head back, flinging water everywhere again before rubbing his hands across his face and stubbly hair.
“Damn that feels good,” he said, taking in a deep breath before letting out a happy sigh.
“What I wouldn’t do for a real bath,” I admitted, staring at the plastic tub only big enough to fit a head.
“Let’s wash your hair,” he said, tipping his chin toward the water. “I can’t give you a bath, but I can give you that.”
“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it? It’s fatiguing on your arms.”
“I’m fine, Mila. How many times do I have to tell you to stop worrying about me? I know my limits. Now c’mon.”
He moved toward the bucket and framed his knees around it before patting his thigh.
“Relax right here and I’ll get it done fast.”
Max picked up the bar of soap that was already almost gone and waited for me to obey.
I slid out of my coat, dropping it onto the floor before kneeling beside the bucket, pushing my short hair forward.
“Turn around,” he said. “Face up and put your neck here.”
He patted his thigh again and even though my heart pitter pattered in my chest, I did as he asked because...why wouldn’t I?
Chapter Twenty
Mila
Lying with my neck on his thigh and my eyes closed, my hair dipped into the bucket and I felt the first ladle of one of our tin cups drizzling the warm water across my scalp.
He was so careful not to get it in my eyes or face, taking the time to wipe away any stray droplets from my forehead as he wet all of my hair. Next he took the soap and stroked it down the wet strands, leaving it in a sudsy mess.
It felt so good. The moist heat of the water hitting my scalp and warming me thoroughly for the first time in days was so nice. That and the comforting wafts of heat and smoke drifting from the stove left me shivering as heat took over where the cold had been for so long.
“You ok?” he asked.
“You’re shaking.”
“It just feels nice to be warm,” I admitted, eyes still closed as I indulged myself.
He hummed in agreement as his long, strong fingers shifted through my newly blonde hair, dunking it back into the water.
I let out a sigh of pleasure when another cupful of water drifted over my head in a warm wave, sending prickles all over my skin in the process.
Another cup, and then another slid down my hair, rinsing away the soap and I got lost in it. Until I felt the gentlest tickle run over my jaw and down to the hollow of my neck. Little droplets of water pooled there before I felt his thumb brush them away where they traveled down the line of my cleavage and between my breasts.
It sent new shivers through my body, these ones not so innocent as before.
Soft heat brushed across my throat and hot lips blazed a line down.
My lips parted at the searing heat, my back arching involuntarily with electricity igniting every nerve in my body.
His fingers dug into the wet hair at the base of my skull, cradling my head in his palm while his tongue flicked white-hot fire into the same hollow where the water had been. A puff of warmth wisped across my skin where his breath cooled the leftover water and heated my skin all at once.
Grazing his teeth across my throat, I tried not to breathe. Was this what the wolf’s breath had felt like on his neck? I could have been seconds away from death with teeth sunk into my throat, but I knew he would never hurt me. He would die first.
The tips of his fingers slid down the base of my throat, pausing between my clavicles before toying with the top button of my blouse. When it opened, cool air touched the tops of my breasts, making me gasp air into my empty lungs as his fingers gently slid against my skin. They dragged down the velvet valley between the swells until fingertips stopped again at the band of my brassier.
My eyes opened and I could only see his head as his mouth savored my skin for a moment, and then he sucked, stinging the skin so pleasantly.
“God...” I breathed out the single word.
“Kisa,” he whispered back against my throat.
I hoped maybe talking to him might make him speed up, but no, he dragged his fingers down my belly so slowly, one button released at a time until eventually they were all open and his hand was laid flat against my stomach.
“Max,” I said, dragging my fingernails down his hair, short and stubbly and masculine. “Fuck me.”
“No,” he whispered into my skin, pressing kisses over the tops of my breasts, which heaved and strained, heavy against the newly uncomfortable restriction of my bra.
“Please...” I begged.
“No,” he said again before bringing my head up, still palmed in his hand as my hair dripped water all over the floor. “You’re more than just a fuck.”
My back hit the floor, the wood boards still cold even so close to the stove.
“Max,” I whined, still begging.
His fingers dragged down my shoulders, drawing down my bra straps and my shirt at the same time until only the cups of my brassier were holding fast to my breasts.
Max backed away for just a moment, gaze traveling from the top of my head to my heaving chest and lower.
“You are incredible,” he whispered so low I almost didn’t hear him.
And then he gave me his lips.
The kiss after the question game had nothing on this one. It was pure, inspired rapture as his tongue stroked mine, teeth dragging against my lips, nibbling almost playfully.
I didn’t wait for him to finish undressing me. At his pace, we’d be naked sometime next year. I flung away my bra and went for my jeans next, unbuttoning and wiggling them down.
He didn’t miss a second though. His hand slid right back down between my breasts and over my belly button until his fingers sank into the silken panties—all that was left covering me.
“Fuck...” he groaned, hands meeting proof of how ready I was for him.
I needed him between my legs and inside me like nothing else. The need was so strange, but maybe that was my innocence speaking and all lovers felt such a strong draw to each other. Either way, I needed him and I would do what it took to take him.
Fingers slipped between my lips, his tongue brushed between my other ones, finger and tongue both teasing me and stroking me in rhythm until those fingers sank into my slit, making me cry out at the welcome intrusion.
I arched my spine, rubbing my achingly hard nipples against his chest, screaming for attention as his fingers withdrew and sank in again in the fantastic rhythm of fucking. And then another finger joined the first.
Gasping, he stretched me, making room for the second just as his mouth left mine. Clamping around his fingers, I wished for something else of his to take their place. His lips smoothed down the soft skin of my chest and down my breasts until he reached my nipple, pebbled with cold and desire, both.
His fingers inside me drove further, almost painfully before drawing out slowly, dragging against the top of my chasm until he hit something...Oh God!
My whole body jerked and I felt him smile against my skin, a deep chuckle emanating from his chest and into mine as he rubbed that magic spot again, slowly but thoroughly.
Sparks lit inside me, dragging heat and euphoric pain through my belly as he sent me spiraling into an orgasm almost immediately. I was still panting as he slid out his fingers and framed them around my hips, pulling me toward him.
With my legs wrapped around his hips, he lifted me into his arms, not minding his injuries at all before sitting me in his lap.
Right on top of his hardness.
Covered still in pants.
I couldn’t reach the button or straps, so I ground into him instead. Maybe if I tortured him enough, just as he had tortured me, he would lose the pants.
“Do you want this,” he whispered in my ear, gripping my hips and rocking me over his cock with a groan.
“Yes,” I moaned back.
“Do you want me?” he whispered again.
Biting my lip, I forced myself to give us a little space as I looked into his eyes.
There, staring back at me, was a young man, hoping, praying for acceptance and love. The young man who lost his mother and stopped loving because of it.
“Do you remember what I told you before we left,” I whispered back at him.
He looked confused, but went along, shaking his head to say he didn’t.
“Before we left Russia, I told you I loved you.”
He sucked in his bottom lip, eyes dropping as our bodies stilled.
“I said it,” I told him, lifting his chin again until he was looking at me. “I said it because I do. I loved you then, the little pieces you gave to me, and I love you now. I love you more now than I did then. I love your stupid, obnoxious attitude and your selflessness and your strength and your intelligence. And I really love your cock.”
He huffed out a laugh with glassy eyes.
“I don’t know about all that,” he said with a grin. “But my cock loves you too, kisa.”
Our lips collided vigorously, demanding everything from each other.
And then he stood.
Muscles bulging, he hefted me up in his arms before backing me against a wall. I felt his knuckles brush against my belly as he undid his pants, letting them drop before he curled his hands around my thighs again and lifted me up until I was snugly wrapped around him, nothing but skin between us.
“You’re going to hurt yourself,” I whispered.
“Let me deal with that,” he said, placing biting kisses on my throat. “Besides. It’ll hurt more if I don’t. So there’s that.”
I laughed, then choked on it when he slid into me in one deep thrust. The laugh turned into a throaty groan.
He paused just like that, letting us both absorb it as he pressed his forehead into the curve of my shoulder and closed his eyes.
“Fucking amazing...” he panted.
“You feel even better bare,” I confirmed
, letting the sensation of his velvety member grow hot and swollen inside me. “But I need you to move.”
He adjusted his grip on me, then backed enough to slam his hips back into mine. Each adjustment put me a little higher in his arms, until he was hitting that spot again.
When the first yelp escaped me on contact, he grinned and held me there, pumping in and out until I was thrashing.
And then he took a breast to his mouth and bit down on my nipple. Hard.
I shrieked and threw my head back, banging it hard against the wall. Then I started to see stars. I wasn’t sure if it was from hitting my head or the explosive orgasm that flooded through me like the Nile, but it left me lightheaded and dreamy.
“Fuck! You ok?” he asked, pausing.
“Don’t stop!” I said, squeezing his rear in my hand until he was sinking into me again.
Two more thrusts blazed through me as I built up again, clenching my eyes shut until his movements got choppier, messier, and more forceful.
With a groan and grunt, he came, spilling into me with my nipple still between his teeth.
I was so close!
“C’mon, babe,” he huffed out, his fingers dropping between us again until they were rubbing hard and fast over my clit.
He thrust one more time with his softening cock and that was all I needed. With a strangled moan I breathed my pleasure silently, the only outward proof of my climax was the throbbing pulses I made with him still inside me.
“Don’t hold it back,” he told me, moving his fingers away again. “Just let it out. Nobody can hear you but me.”
My whole body unclenched after my delicious finish as he dropped my feet back to the rough floorboards.
Our foreheads pressed together while our breathing evened out in the silence around us.
“I...I don’t want to be loud,” I told him eventually.
“Why not?” He looked me in the eyes, expecting an answer.
“What if the—the next man doesn’t like it? That would be a hard habit to break.”
He licked his lips, eyes never wavering from me.
“Don’t think you’ll ever have to worry about that, babe,” he whispered, his hand coming to my cheek and cupping it. “I don’t plan on there ever being any other dudes in your life.”
