Page 17 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

My stomach churned as I climbed into the car, gripping the book in my hands. Maxim had always been a mystery to me—a man of cold calculations, someone who kept his secrets locked away. But now, for the first time, I was starting to wonder just how deep those secrets went.

The car ride back to the mansion was a blur, my mind spinning with possibilities. Was I being watched? Had someone been following me without me noticing? I glanced at the men who sat in the front seats of the car, their eyes trained ahead, oblivious to the storm brewing inside me.

By the time I arrived back at the mansion, I was a ball of tension, my body thrumming with adrenaline. I couldn’t sit still, couldn’t think straight. The moment I stepped through the front doors, I made my way straight to Maxim’s office.

He was there, as usual, sitting behind his desk, his expression unreadable as he looked up at me. The door clicked shut behind me, and the air in the room felt thick with unspoken words.

“Anna,” he said, his voice calm, but I could hear the underlying tension. “You’re back early.”

I didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “What the hell is this?” I demanded, tossing the envelope onto his desk. “Who’s playing games with me?”

Maxim’s eyes flickered to the envelope, and for a moment, I thought I saw something in his expression—something dark and calculating. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady on mine.

“Where did you get that?” he asked, his voice cold.

“In the book I bought,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “So, what does it mean, Maxim? ‘You are not who you think you are’? What do you know that I don’t?”

He remained silent, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. The tension between us crackled like electricity, thick and heavy.

“I don’t have time for games,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m not some puppet, Maxim. You owe me the truth.”

His jaw clenched, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of something raw in his eyes. But then he stood up, moving around the desk with that same controlled, deliberate grace that made him so infuriatingly unreadable.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he said quietly, stepping closer. “I do not owe you anything. Who do you think you are,lapochka, barging in like this? Demanding from me?”

“I don’t care,” I shot back, my voice shaking slightly. “I want to know, what does it mean?”

Maxim stopped in front of me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, neither of us moved, the tension between us rising to a fever pitch.

“You’re still that naive girl, Anna. You do not demand from me. Are we clear?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.

My heart pounded in my chest, my body reacting to the intensity in his voice, the dark promise in his words. But Irefused to back down. I had spent too long being afraid of him, of this world. I wasn’t going to let him control me any longer.

“Try me,” I whispered, stepping closer until I could feel the brush of his chest against mine.

Maxim's deep, primal eyes flickered with a fierce desire as he stepped closer to me. His hands gripped my waist with a possessive strength, pulling me towards him until our bodies were pressed against one another. A spark of heat ignited between us, the air buzzing with palpable tension and electricity.

Without warning, he crushed his lips to mine in a rough, demanding kiss that left me breathless and wanting more. All the anger and frustration I had been feeling seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by an overwhelming need for him. His hands roamed over my body with a sense of ownership, claiming me in a way that made my knees weak.

Despite knowing that I should resist, that I should push him away, I couldn’t help but cling to him and lose myself in the fire of his touch. His lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of heat and causing me to gasp as his teeth grazed my skin. And then, just as suddenly as he had started, he pulled away from me with ragged breaths and wild eyes.

"You don't know what you're doing," he rasped, his voice low and strained.

"I know exactly what I’m doing," I whispered back, my voice betraying the desire coursing through me.

For a moment, we simply stared at each other, the tension between us thick and suffocating. And then, with a growl of frustration, Maxim's grip on my waist tightened and his hands moved over my skin with a roughness that both excited and scared me. He wasn’t just touching me - he was claiming me. And instead of fighting back or pushing him away like I knew I should, I found myself wanting more of it. Craving his dominance, his raw power, his touch.

I should have hated myself for it. But in that intense moment, there was no room for hate.

He attacked my lips again with a hunger that sent my head spinning. It was as if he had been holding back for so long, and now all of that restraint had finally snapped. I could feel the full force of his desire, the desperation in every kiss and touch. And I wanted it - all of it.

With one quick motion, Maxim's hands moved to the hem of my shirt, and he pulled it off over my head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. The cold air hit my skin, causing me to shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat of his touch. His fingers traced over the curves of my body, up to the swell of my breasts, teasing me with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of everything else.

"You're mine," he growled possessively against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. His lips found their way back to mine, pressing hard kisses onto my skin as his hands explored every inch of my body with a mix of dominance and urgency.

I could barely catch my breath, the weight of his words hitting me just as powerfully as the pressure of his body against mine. The tension between us had been simmering for weeks, and now it was boiling over. Every sensation, every touch, every breath felt heightened and magnified in this moment. The room was filled with the sound of our heavy breathing and rustling clothes as Maxim tugged at the waistband of my pants, swiftly pulling them down.

For a brief moment, he hovered over me, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths, his eyes dark and wild with desire. There was something feral in the way he looked at me, as if he was fighting a losing battle against himself.

---