“My body is yours, Maxim. It has always been yours, and it will always be yours. Do with it what you wish because it is yours to do with as you please,” I groan the last word as Maxim pulls out and pushes himself completely inside of me, his face sweating, his jaw grinding, and his breath heavy.
“I want to fuck you hard, golubushka. I want to come inside of your body and fill you with another baby. Will you accept me as I am, Haleigh? No matter what this life hands us, will you stay with me?” his asks, his eyes wild and his jaw still set hard and grinding.
Reassurance. The man is inside of me, and he wants reassurance?
I have come here for him, and already, I am questioning my sanity. I reach up and wrap my hands around his cheeks, firmly holding him, feeling the strained muscles in his face as he stays stalk still, rooted deep inside of me.
“I am yours, Maxim. I was born for you, only you. No other man can have me because you will not let them get me again, will you? I am yours to love, to put babies inside of, and to fuck until I cannot walk.”
Maxim growls and then something inside of him snaps. I almost praise Jesus because the man loses all control and begins to wildly thrust in and out of my body, pounding himself inside of me, assaulting me with fast, deep strokes. I love every single second of the deliciously hard torture he is giving me.
I can feel my breasts bouncing each time he roots deep inside of me. His cock hitting me at the perfect angle. My orgasm comes hard and in a rush, causing me to scream as I come for the second time in one evening.
Maxim doesn’t stop moving in and out of me, his punishing pace continuing throughout my entire orgasm. Then he pulls out of me and flips my body over. Lifting my hips, he slides deeper inside from behind. My body is limp and sated as he continues to fuck me so hard, I wonder if I will ever walk the same way again.
Maxim finally stills inside me, and I feel his cock swell and then pulse as he fills me with his cum. I close my eyes and just accept what he is giving, accept his cum as it fills me, the only way he can. Maxim kisses my shoulder as he lowers his body against my back, his hips still moving slightly, lazily, in and out of me.
“I never want to leave your body,” he mutters against my shoulder.
“Stay forever, baby,” I whisper back, my body sweaty, my hair tangled and damp.
“I couldn’t stay away even if I tried. I love you, golubushka. I will take care of you and our son. I will give you everything you could want,” he promises. His words are so sweet and sincere, but they are not exactly what I wish to hear.
“All I want is you, Maxim. Money and things don’t mean anything if I am roaming around that big house all alone and you are not sleeping at my side every night,” I admit. Maxim wraps his arms around my torso, one arm around my breasts the other at my neck, and I feel him inhale and exhale deeply against my back.
“I am yours. Never will you sleep alone, golubushka. Never will you wish I were beside you because I will forever be at your side, from now until death,” he states.
I blink back the tears and finally, finally … I smile.
MAXIM AND I PASS out after making love once more, slower and sweeter than the first time. We are tangled with each other, our bodies wrapped up in the sheets, when I hear yelling from the front of the apartment. Maxim stands up and slides his pants on over his hips, grabbing a gun from the bedside table as I pull the sheets over my body. I am groggy from the flight and the all night sex-a-thon.
A man stands in the doorway of our bedroom. He is as big as the doorway itself and my breath catches at the sight of him looming in the room. He is huge, dark-haired, dark-eyed, and powerful. His blue eyes flick over me, and he begins to rapidly speak Russian to Maxim; unfortunately, I do catch one word that I know. Blyad. Whore.
“Nyet. Mudak.”
The man’s eyes narrow at Maxim before he speaks again. He looks back and forth between Maxim and me, seeing something, though I am not sure what exactly he sees. His presence makes me uncomfortable.
I can tell this man is bad. He isn’t the kind of bad you swoon over. No, he is the kind of bad you avoid eye contact with and cross the street for. He is the kind of bad that would trample whoever got in his way and he wouldn’t even feel bad about it. I can tell all of that from the cold, blank stare of his eyes. As suddenly as he entered the room, he nods at Maxim and walks out, taking the chill out of the room with him.
“I must go, Haleigh. You will stay here until I am able to come back. Do not leave this apartment. Do not venture outside at all, whatsoever,” he orders, making me gulp and nod.
“How long will you be gone, Maxim?” my voice is quiet, and I cannot help the tremble of fear that is there.
“Probably all day and well into the evening,” he says, his eyes full of regret and concern.
“I cannot stay here in Russia for too long. I have to get back to Maksimilyn. Pasha and Sonia are watching him, but I only have enough milk for four days,” I say quietly.
Wishing I didn’t have to tell him. Wishing we could stay in our happy little bubble for a few moments longer. He nods and closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“When I come home tonight, we figure all of this out, yes? I meant it when I said that you will never spend another night alone in your bed, golubushka.”
I nod and give him a shaky smile as he pulls a shirt on over his shoulders and buttons it, then a new pair of slacks up and over his hips.
“Aren’t you going to shower, Maxim?” I wrinkle my nose, trying to change the subject.
Maxim takes a few steps toward me and sits down on the bed, his hand cupping my cheek.
“I want to smell you on me while I am working. I want you close to me.” He gently kisses my lips, my cheek, and then right below my ear, causing me to shiver.
“Be safe with whatever it is you have to do,” I say. His lips immediately go to a thin line and he nods.
“Ya vas lyoblyo, I love you.” His words are nothing but a whisper, but his eyes are screaming with their meaning as he looks at me.
“I love you, too,” I say softly. He nods once and turns to leave.
I decide to take a bath, call Sonia to check on Maksimilyan, then lounge while I am here, locked inside of the apartment for the day. I honestly cannot remember the last time I just relaxed. I make Maxim dinner and wait for him to come back, but he doesn’t.
Much later, I slide into bed, alone, and I pray that what we talked about, what we planned, wasn’t all a dream—wasn’t all smoke. I pray he meant what he said when he told me that he loved me and would always be by my side. I fall asleep as I think about the fact this is the first broken promise of many.
Will he just disappear—leave me alone with nothing but his son, a pile of money, and a broken heart again?
I feel something hot and heavy pushing against half of my body. I try to roll away, but it pins me to my spot. I moan, my eyelids prying open to see Maxim’s face, slack with sleep, is resting on my chest.
Hope stirs inside of me—he came back. I run my fingers through his hair and sigh like a schoolgirl. He came back to me—my Maxim. He moans in his sleep and tightens his arm around my waist, then nuzzles the side of my breast. His tongue sneaks out and lightly licks my skin, then he nips it with his teeth.
“I thought you were asleep,” I say, my voice rough and low.
“I was, but my wife is very tempting,” he grumbles, his voice rough with sleep as he presses his hips against my leg, where I feel his hardening length. It makes my belly clench and my body yearn for his touch.
“We need to talk, Maxim,” I rasp as he nips my breast again.
“We talk after we come,” he murmurs with a smile as he looks up at me.
He looks almost boyish and I can’t help but smile, reaching up to run my fingers through his thick hair again. He turns his head and kisses the inside of my wrist.
“My beautiful, sweet wife, will you let me make you come?” he asks.
I shiver at his words and open m
y legs as my answer. He’s right; we can talk after we come. Maxim’s chest rumbles as he slides his fingers through my already wet core. He pushes two fingers inside of me slowly, his mouth still on my breast, licking and nipping everywhere but the place I want him most. I push my hips up as they search for relief, for pleasure, for him.
Maxim grabs my waist and rolls over so that he is on his back and I am now straddling his hips. Slowly, his hands slide up my sides to cup my breasts, his hard length lying on his belly with my wet center resting against it. I want to rub myself like a cat, to find my release.
“Ride me, Haleigh. I want to watch your body above me. I want you to be in control for a bit.” His fingers pinch my nipples hard, and I gasp with pleasure, my center flooding against his hard cock.
I lift my hips as he guides himself inside me. I slowly slide down, taking all of him inside of me. I groan at the full feeling. I want to be still, I want to take him in and just hold him there, but my instincts and lusty body want something entirely different as I lift up and glide back down, slow and steadily.
One of Maxim’s hands clamps down on my hip as he tries to speed my movements up while the other fists in my hair pulling it tightly. The pain radiates through my scalp, urging me to go faster as the bite of his torment turns me on even more. My back arches and my breasts thrust out while my downcast eyes focus solely on his.
“Such a good girl. Fuck, angel moy,” he rasps as his hand slides from my hip to between my cheeks.
He slowly and gently massages my rear entrance as I moan at the slight pressure. Then I feel one of his fingers slide inside, filling me from behind while his hips thrust up as I grind down.
“Maxim,” I cry out.
The hand in my hair pulls tighter, sending pleasure through my body. It is too much. It feels too good. He is all around me, inside of me every way possible, and before I know it, I am crying out and shaking violently with my orgasm.
Maxim doesn’t stop thrusting inside of me, with his cock or his finger, even after I come. The only way my body is staying upright is by the hand fisted in my hair, holding me in place. He growls, and I look down at him as sweat drips from his forehead and chest, his jaw clenched and the muscles of his body strained. It looks as though his tattoos are going to come to life, he is so taut.
“Who am I, Haleigh?” he grinds as he takes me roughly.
“Maxim,” I sigh.
His finger slams inside of me from behind, causing me to cry out and my back to bow even more.
“Who else? Who am I to you?” his voice growls. I gasp.
“My husband, my lover,” I cry out.
Maxim hums his approval, but his finger is rougher, pumping in and out of me while his cock punishes my pussy. I can feel myself building toward another release. My body begins to tremble again.
“You better fucking come again, Haleigh. You better do it telling me who in the motherfuck I am,” he demands. The sweat is pouring off him and my center begins to pulse and quiver as I come again.
“Oh, baby, I love you,” I scream as I climax.
Then Maxim stills, his finger deep inside of my ass, his dick deep inside of my pussy, and he comes—hard. His cock pulses as my center does the same, together, so perfect.
“Fuck, yes. I am your baby. I am your husband. I am your owner—and you will never be without me,” he murmurs as he slowly slides his finger from me.
The hold on my hair loosens and my body, unable to stay upright, falls onto his chest, my face nuzzling in his sweat-dampened neck.
“I love you,” I moan against his neck. Then I move my head to kiss the handle of his dagger tattoo, one of my favorites, and I don’t even know why.
“Now, we talk,” he announces. I try to slide off him, but his hands clamp on my hips.
“Maxim, you’re still inside of me,” I laugh slightly. He pushes his hips up.
“I stay inside. I stay home when we talk, yes?”
When he says it like that, his accent thick and his English broken, how can I deny him anything? I can’t.
“When will you move home then?” I ask, my hand stroking the blade of his dagger on his opposite shoulder.
“It is not so easy. I work here now. I cannot just pick up and leave. I have a position of power and Dimitri took over my position with Pasha and my business.” He says this like it makes perfect logical sense.
“I’m sure Pasha can bring you back and Dimitri can just go somewhere else in the company,” I offer. He shakes his head and wraps his hand around the nape of my neck, massaging me and adding light pressure to force my head up—my eyes on his.
“It is not so simple, golubushka. I am not just a businessman. I never wanted to tell you, I never wanted you to know, but you must, now,” he says.
My whole body goes tight. I am so confused and it is not just his accent, it is everything he is saying. What is so hard about coming back home and what is he into?
“I am Bratva, Haleigh,” he says. It sounds like a type of confession, but I don’t understand it.
“Mafia, golubushka, I am Brigadier—authority, a captain. I am also a businessman, a collector of debts, a gun tradesman, and in charge of new recruits,” he admits.
I gape at him and then I sit up and look at all of his tattoos. Strategically placed on his body, they are all the same blue color. Then it dawns on me—each one has a meaning, and they tell a story. Dimitri has tried to hint these things to me, as has Sonia, that these men are different. That I will never know exactly what Maxim has gone through in his life. I just never thought it would be something so dangerous, so bad, and so wrong.
It hits me like a freight train—he is a collector of debts. Is that what I was, a debt to collect?
“I see you are understanding some things now, angel moy. I never wanted you to know what I did. You understand now why I cannot just go back to Pasha? My new Pakhan, my boss, will not just allow me to leave. I have proven loyal in the past year. They do not care my family resides elsewhere. They will just expect you to come here if you wish to reside with me,” he says.
I can see some anger starting to flare in Maxim’s eyes, but I won’t let him be angry. I am not angry. He was a poor young boy, and he did what he had to for survival. I am confused and hurt that I am just finding this out, but I am not angry.
“The men who took me?” I ask cupping his cheeks as my eyes search his. He closes his eyes in shame, and it is then that I know he needed to survive. My husband is a survivalist.
“I make promises I never imagined would come to life. I never meant to hurt you, golubushka. I will not ever again. I thought if I leave you, if I go away, then you can be happy. I have done nothing but bring pain and shame to you. I made the deal for my own safety, but it should have never been made. Our soldiers are not few. The group that made the deal with me when I was young is just affiliate of my own. I have not uncovered exactly who leads them, but I will. When I do, I will disassemble them,” he vows.
I chew my lip and nod, but I do not agree. Not really. He may have brought a whole mess with him when he came to me, but I have had many good memories and I would not trade them for the world.
“You don’t bring me pain, baby. You breathe life into me. Without you, I was nothing but an overworked ballerina. I was lonely and desperate to begin a life—any life. Did you ever wonder why I just agreed to marry you without ever meeting you?
“It was partly because my parents demanded it, but also because I was craving something more. I got all I ever wanted and more, so much more, with you,” I whisper.
Maxim rolls us over so I am underneath his body, and he gently thrusts into me. He is hardening again, and I whimper at the tender flesh of my center, but I love the slight pain he offers. What I adore even more is the love shining in his eyes like never before; it fuels my desire.
“You come to Russia. Will not be forever, angel moy. We make more babies and be happy here, I swear it.” His voice dips lower, huskier, and I wrap my legs around his back.
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“I will follow you anywhere, Maxim.” I sigh, with a hitch of my breath. He growls before he pauses above me.
“I am not good man, Haleigh. My jobs are not honorable. They are not legal. I could go to prison, again. I have been before,” he admits, his blue eyes ice and focused.
I cup his cheeks and slide my nose along the side of his. As if I hadn’t already figured out that the things he does are not legal, talks of guns and debts ensure that his job is not legitimate, but I appreciate the confession just the same.
“You are a good man, Maxim, and sometimes good men have to do bad things to survive. I will never hold anything you do outside of our home against you. As long as you are good to our children and me, I will forever be at your side, no questions asked,” I say softly. Maxim withdraws and slides deep inside me again; his motions soft and slow.
“I never mistreat you again, Haleigh. I never lay my hand on you in anger again. I never touch another woman again. Only you, golubushka. I swear this to you. You will see, moya koroleva,” he mutters, nuzzling my neck before he whispers the translation of his last words—my queen.
I come almost immediately, and Maxim buries his length inside of me with his face against my neck, crying out as he climaxes, his hands wrapped in my hair. We fall asleep with plans to go back to America and bring our Maksimilyan back to a new home in Moscow.
“MAXIM, WE CANNOT GO back to that apartment,” I mutter as the plane takes off toward home, toward our baby.
“Why not?” he asks. There is a grin playing on his lips. I want to slap him, but he’s too cute and obviously happy, so I don’t—I refrain.
“I will not bring my son into a home with a stripper pole in the living room,” I practically screech.
Owned by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 1) Page 17
