Page 108 of Maxim

He slams into me, setting a brutal pace. My hands grip his shoulders, leaving crescent-shaped indents in the muscle from my nails. With each punishing thrust, I climb a little higher. Then his mouth latches onto my breast and he sinks his teeth in, hard.

I come with a scream as my body shatters around him. White-hot pleasure washes over me and for a long, beautiful moment, my mind is wiped clean like a blank slate. Nothing else matters but Max.

“I love you, malyshka,” he whispers as he rolls to the side, pulling me with him.

“I love you too,” I reply with a yawn before drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Epilogue

Nat

A copy of the Daily Journal sits on the table as I sip my morning coffee. My story about the mayor, corruption, and the trafficking of women from shelters meant to protect them has gone viral.

Media outlets have been trying to contact me all morning but I’ve refused to take any calls. My editor can deal with it. I’ve done the hard work and exposed the rot at the heart of our city. All that remains is for the people involved to face justice.

I’m sure a lot of them think they’ll get away with it, but they are wrong. Mickey and Sasha have worked tirelessly to trace every last person who signed up for a subscription to Uriov’s sick website. Many of them thought they could hide behind anonymous online identities, but Uriov was a man who liked to maintain detailed records of his business dealings.

Every person who paid to watch his vile content was identifiable. And it turns out a lot of them are important, famous, well-respected, and all of the above. This morning, at the same time as my story went live online and in print, everyone linked to the site got their comeuppance, one way or another.

All were arrested, with their identities published on WikiLeaks, along with irrefutable proof of their wrongdoings. It’s caused shockwaves across the world since many of those named held prominent positions in politics, and at least one was a minor member of a European Royal Family.

“You need to eat, malyshka.” Max pushes a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of me. I take one sniff and my stomach rolls uncomfortably. He quickly removes the plate and frowns. “How about some toast with peanut butter?”

That worked yesterday. I nod and he pops some bread into the toaster for me.

When a new plate is placed in front of me, my stomach behaves and I manage a few bites.

“Good girl,” he praises and of course I preen in response. Being told I’m his ‘good girl’ does it for me every time. I’m such a praise slut. It’s ridiculous.

“I’m so proud of you.” He leans down and kisses me on the cheek while pointing to the headline with my name on it.

I came so close to asking my editor to publish the story without my name attached. I was - and still am - worried that the attention I’m receiving for being the journalist to break the story will bring the roof down on Max’s head. He’s no angel, and if people realize who my boyfriend is, he could end up in serious trouble.

Of course, my anxiety is written all over my face.

“Baby, stop worrying,” he chides before placing me on his lap.

“I can’t help it,” I reply. “What if someone starts digging and figures out your business dealings are connected to the mafia?”

“My business dealings are legitimate, malyshka, there’s nothing to find. All anyone will see is that I am the developer of a casino-hotel complex that’s due to open next year, creating hundreds of jobs and boosting the local economy. Based on that, I am a pillar of the fucking community.”

“And modest too,” I observe with a wry smile.

“You worry too much, malyshka. It’s not good for you or the baby.” His large hand rests on my gently swollen belly and I exhale all my tension.

“I know, you’re right.” Stress is bad for our baby, which is why I’m taking an extended break from work and focusing on writing a novel instead. I plan to relax and enjoy my unexpected pregnancy here, where it’s safe.

Neither of us expected me to get pregnant so quickly. Even though doctors claim a pregnancy can occur almost immediately after a contraceptive implant is removed, I assumed it would take months, possibly even longer.

But nope. Max knocked me up within two weeks.

I’m still in shock about being a mother.

And so is Amanda. Turns out she’s expecting a baby too, only she’s not sure who the daddy is, which proved to be an interesting conversation.

Jane has gone to stay with her mother in Australia but we all talk every day and she can’t wait to be an auntie. She’s finding it hard to get over the trauma of being kidnapped, but a surfer dude she’s met in Byron Bay is helping. I hope in time she’ll come back and pick up the threads of her life here, but if she doesn’t, Max has promised me we can visit as often as I want. He has a private jet, apparently.

I guess there are a few perks to hooking up with a rich mafia boss. Who knew?

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