“And I’m not going through enough as it is?!” I foolishly complain.
It only serves to amp up the tension, his teasing pushing me farther out into the great unknown. I hold on for dear life, my breath caught in my throat as I feel everything—every finger, every vibration, every nerve in my body screaming until the magical words slip past his lips. Maksim watches me with devious delight, a grin slitting his handsome face.
“Come, Tory. Come for me… Give me everything you’ve got…”
“OH, MAX, YES!” I scream at the top of my lungs, my heels planted into the mattress as I unravel, as I burst into a million stars, euphoria washing over me as I ripple outward like a newborn sun.
The sensations are countless and seemingly endless.
I’ve never experienced something like this before. Something so wild and dirty. So beautiful and intense. I’ve never met this side of me before, yet she’s been here all along. Waiting for someone like him to come along and discover her full potential.
Even in the immediate afterglow, there’s no doubt in my mind that Maksim has unleashed an appetite in me only he can satisfy. And I look forward to feasting again and again.
Chapter 11
Maksim
The Murphy bed's not exactly spacious, but it's enough for this moment, her nestled against me as she drifts off. There's a clarity in the quiet, a certainty that she's what I've been looking for—not just for me, but for Adelina too, who’s needed a mother figure for a long while now.
It’s insane how quickly I feel this way toward her. I’ve only known Tory for a couple of days and I’m already considering her as a stepmother for my daughter? I should be chastising myself for such thoughts.
But they seem so right.
I'd stay if I could. I’d take things further than this, deeper, still. I’d wrap the night around us and forget the world outside. But I've got promises to keep, especially to Adelina. Breakfast plans with her aren't something I'm willing to break. She counts on me, and I won't let her down.
Leaning close, I breathe in the scent of Tory's hair, a moment of peace amidst the chaos of my life. She's sound asleep, worn out, and I know she's got her own early start tomorrow. With a silent reluctance, I carefully disentangle myself and get dressed, the quiet of the room heavy with the echoes of what's passed between us.
Before I go, I scribble a note, something to remind her of the connection we've shared tonight and the promise of what's to come.
Looking forward to Friday. Sleep well, Tory, I write, hoping the words convey more than just the sentiment, but the anticipation, the promise of more.
Leaving her in the dim light of her office-turned-bedroom feels like stepping away from a moment suspended in time. But the note, that small token, is a bridge to the next time we meet.
Silently, I make my exit, the weight of the night and the promise of the future mingling in my thoughts as I step out into the early morning. The city's quiet, the world unaware of the shift that's just occurred in my heart.
The morning drive takes me straight to the doorstep of my father's imposing estate, its vastness a testament to the Morozov legacy. The structure looms large, all sleek lines and expansive windows, a fortress masquerading as a home.
As I pull into the circular drive, Aleksey's car is impossible to miss. It's the kind of vehicle that doesn't just whisper wealth—it shouts it, chrome glinting in the morning light, as subtle as a gunshot. It irks me, his penchant for the ostentatious. In our line of work, discretion is key, but Aleksey's choices are a constant signal of excess.
I park my own car, its understated elegance a deliberate choice, and make my way to the front door. The cool metal of the handle gives way to the familiar warmth of the interior as I step inside. It takes but a moment before the quiet is shattered by the sound of tiny feet on marble.
Adelina, my heart, rushes into the entry hall with the unbridled joy only a child can muster. Her arms are thrown wide and I scoop her up without hesitation.
“Papa!”
“Princess!”
Her laughter fills the space, echoing off the high ceilings as her cheek presses against mine. She's still clad in her pajamas, a whimsical pattern of cartoons dancing across the fabric.
"I didn't know you were coming so early," she says into my shoulder, her words muffled but filled with sleep-tinged surprise.
Smiling, I kiss her cheek, setting her down with a gentle reminder. "Can't keep a beautiful girl waiting," I say, a hint of playfulness in my tone. “Now, go grab your things. I need to meet with dedushka.”
“Okay, Papa. Can we get waffles?”
“We can get whatever you want.”
She giggles, a sound that cuts through the heaviness of my world and darts off to get ready. I watch her go, her energy wild.