Page 88 of Maksim
My eyes go to close, but the night sky looks so beautiful filled with stars that I can’t help but stare up at it, my lips parted, my spine arching as Maksim rubs me.
He moves to the other nipple, restarting the shooting, sweet pain that preludes ecstasy, and I bite down on my lip as another moan slides from my lungs.
His hand grows more eager, more anxious at the sound of my moan. Denim scrapes my legs with every movement until I shrug my shorts off my hips, my own eagerness growing.
I want him.
Really want him.
My whole life I had planned to wait for marriage and thought others’ inability to do so was weakness. Now I understand. Now I feel weak. Feeble. Decrepit. Because I can’t wait another day, another hour, another minute.
“Maksim, I want you,” I whimper, angling my neck for him when he goes to kiss me there.
He peels my shorts and panties the rest of the way off, leaving me bare before working himself out of his pants.
He makes a bed beneath me with our clothes then lays me down flat, lining up at my entrance and putting his lips to mine.
It’s a warm night, and his body heats my skin until I’m breaking out in a sweat. I’m lost in his kiss, so when I feel the sharp pain of his intrusion, I’m caught off guard and freeze.
My eyes clench shut as my fingers dig into his sides.
I don’t tell him. I’m terrified he’ll stop if I do, so I just lie still and wait for the pain to pass like it seemed to with Daniel.
Maksim doesn’t move, just stills himself inside me while planting kisses on my neck.
“You’re perfect, Elira,” he coos. His voice may as well have hands because it feels like it massages my tense muscles, relaxing me. “Don’t ever let anyone make you feel differently.”
I open my eyes at his words and stare at the haunted house for a moment before blinking softly and closing them again. The pain is no longer so intense when he starts to shift inside me.
My legs wrap around him in a tight embrace as tingles roll through my core, and I grasp onto his sides as hard as I did before but no longer due to pain.
His thrusts quicken as his breaths grow more labored, and I listen to them, naturally breathing in rhythm with him. The more worked up he gets, the more pleasure I feel. Or maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe he loves the pleasure he brings me.
Maybe he loves me.
I am not shlyukha.
My mouth opens on a cry as I come around Maksim, my walls squeezing him. Tears leak from my eyes, but I don’t swipe them away. They roll into my hair to hide, unnoticed.
His length pumps in and out of me at an even faster pace while I run my heels over his back and tilt my chin toward the sky.
He groans with three hard thrusts as he spills into me, stilling with one hand grasping my knee.
My body feels full and empty at the same time when he nestles beside me, situating his arm under my head. I nuzzle into him and close my eyes for a moment while I try to capture this forever. I don’t know if it can last. I don’t even know if it’s real.
But it’s perfect. Right now, it’s perfect.
24
MAKSIM
Hugh’s deep roar fills my backyard as I turn shashlik skewers over on a grill I picked up for this occasion like a true suburban dad. It would be painful if Anya’s shy laugh didn’t follow Hugh’s.
I peek over my shoulder at Elira and Anya sitting together with polite smiles on their faces as they listen to Hugh ramble. Both look uncomfortable, surrounded by five of my brothers, and it doesn’t help that Altus and Fox are already showing signs of intoxication.
This, as I explained to Elira repeatedly, was a terrible idea.
Hugh, while my brother, has met Anya once, by chance, briefly. He doesn’t come here. No one involved with the Bratva comes here just to hang out. The things they do and say aren’t meant for a young girl’s ears, so my two worlds have always been kept separate. I never wanted her to be a part of my Bratva family. I vowed to keep her out of it.