Page 70 of Maksim
“Do you want my cock?”
He says it like a question, but there’s only one correct answer.
One I can’t give.
If I open my mouth, I’m afraid it’ll come out as a cry. My lip trembles, and I suck in a sharp breath, tilting my head back so he doesn’t see.
A hand weaves into my hair before balling into a tight fist. It jerks my head to the side, sending a shooting pain through my scalp and a gasp soaring past my lips.
It isn’t Nikita. The large body of a man crowds the two of us before I can register who it is or what’s happening.
“Starting without me, slut?”
Maksim’s hot, angry voice seethes in my ear. I don’t even try to make sense of it. Relief floods me as I meet his eyes, leaning into him.
He stares back with a hardened expression that would make me cower if Nikita didn’t have his hands on me. When his hand wraps around my throat, all I manage is a whimper as he yanks my body roughly away from the predator and pins me against the wall.
Nikita merely laughs coldly and watches as Maksim unbuttons his pants and yanks down his zipper.
My jaw drops.
What are you doing?
He shrugs his pants over his hips, revealing himself as carelessly and confidently as Nikita had.
Just like Nikita.
He’s just like Nikita.
No.
No, he isn’t.
I clench my jaw and listen to the voice deep down inside of me that trusts Maksim, spreading my legs wide on its command when Maksim presses himself against me and lifts me up against the wall.
When his mouth claims mine, I don’t resist. His kiss is rough, brutal, and I can feel myself cringing, but I put my hands on his face and lean into it.
His erection strokes the sensitive flesh Nikita just assaulted, and I clench my eyes shut, waiting for pain.
When he thrusts, I gasp, but he doesn’t enter me. He slides between my legs with a grunt while his hands dig into the flesh of my rear.
It’s an act.
A show.
He’s protecting me.
I rip my mouth from his to tuck my face in the crook of his neck so Nikita doesn’t see my face twisting with gut-wrenching relief. I hug Maksim’s neck, squeezing hard each time he rocks my body with his thrusts and hope he can sense my gratitude. Hope he knows I know what he’s doing.
I kiss his neck, to add to the display at first, but then because I want to. I want his smell, his skin, his arms, the faint taste of his sweat, his roughness, his jokes, his vulnerability, his lewd remarks, his…
His everything. Right now, I want his everything. I just want him to take me home, and I want most of all for him to be nothing like the man watching us.
My heart quickens as I peek at Nikita to see if he’s still there, and sure enough, he is. My head whirls the other way in a panic, my mind drifting to the possibilities of what comes next.
Will Nikita wait for this to be finished?
Will he want me next?