Page 39 of Hunter

“What should I do instead?” My voice is thick with desire.

She pushes me back into the chair, her movements deliberate but cautious, straddling me as her arms slide around my neck. There’s a flicker of mischief in her eyes, but beneath it, there’s something deeper—uncertainty, maybe even fear. My heart pounds, each beat loud enough to drown out the world.

“Sophia…” My voice comes out low, hesitant, but I don’t pull away. My hands hover at her waist, unsure whether to hold her steady or to keep myself in check.

“What?” she whispers, her lips curling into a soft, teasing smile. “You’re acting like this is something we’ve never done before.”

Her tone is light, but I can hear the strain behind it. She’s trying to bridge the gap, trying to find her way back to us, and my chest aches at the effort. “This isn’t about me,” I murmur, my eyes searching hers. “I need to know you’re ready.”

She pauses, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. “I don’t know if I’ll ever feel ready,” she admits, her voice wavering. “But I can’t keep letting fear control me. I can’t let him take more from me than he already has.”

Her words gut me. I reach for her waist, my hands steadying her, grounding her. “Sophia, this isn’t something you have to force. You don’t owe me anything.”

She leans closer, her forehead brushing against mine. Her voice drops to a whisper. “I’m not doing this for you, Maxim. I’m doing it for me.” She pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, her expression raw and unguarded.

“Sophia, I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I murmur, my voice breaking the silence between us. My hands rest on her hips, steadying hereven as my chest tightens. “I can’t take this step—not when your body says yes but your eyes… They’re hesitant. They’re telling me something else.”

Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she looks away, her lips pressing together as if to hold back whatever she’s feeling. Then, she looks back at me, her gaze steady but questioning. “What do you suggest we do, Maxim?”

I force myself to meet her eyes, letting her see the sincerity in mine. “We can talk,” I offer, my voice low.

Her expression tightens, frustration flickering there. “Talk?” she repeats, her hands moving to my shoulders. “Then tell me the truth. No more vague answers, no more trying to protect me. I need to know what’s happening—with the business, who took me. All of it.”

I let out a slow breath, feeling the weight of her words. “It’s not much,” I admit, my voice rough around the edges. “Luca’s men and I…we’ve been hitting nothing but dead ends. The place where you were held? It was scrubbed clean. No evidence, no fingerprints—just…nothing.”

Her jaw tightens, and I catch the flicker of fear she tries so hard to suppress. It guts me to see her like this, but I force myself to go on. “The bodies we’ve found—every single one of them—doesn’t lead back to any gang or organization. They’re just…random people, hired for a job.”

Her voice is quieter now, tinged with unease. “And your business? What about that?”

“There’s more,” I continue, my hands sliding up to frame her waist, grounding both of us. “The attacks…they’re calculated. Coordinated. Whoever’s behind them knows what they’re doing. They’re not leaving mistakes, not giving us anything to work with.” My jaw tightens, and my voice drops to a near whisper. “But I’ll find them, Sophia. I swear, I’ll find them.”

She studies me, her lips parting slightly as if she’s about to argue, but then she exhales shakily. “And what about you, Maxim?”

“What about me?” I ask, my voice barely above a murmur now.

Her hands move to my face, her thumbs brushing against my jaw with a tenderness that catches me off guard. “You’re doing all of this for me—for us—but who’s taking care of you? Who’s making sure you don’t fall apart in the process?”

Her words hit me like a physical blow, breaking through the walls I’ve carefully constructed. For a moment, I can’t answer her. I can’t even look at her, because everything she’s saying is true.

But then, she does something I don’t expect—she leans in and presses her lips to mine.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, as if she’s testing the waters. But then, it deepens, and I feel something shift. The gap between us—the one that has been growing wider and wider since the kidnapping—starts to close. Her touch pulls me back, grounding me in the moment, reminding me of what I’ve been fighting for.

I hesitate, my instincts screaming at me to pull away, to protect her from the intensity burning inside me. But then, she whispers against my lips, her voice trembling but resolute. “Kiss me, Maxim. Stop holding back.”

Her plea breaks something in me, shattering the last bit of restraint I’ve been clinging to. I look into her eyes, searching for even the slightest trace of hesitation, but all I see is desire—raw, unguarded, and unmistakable.

This time, I let go. My hands slide up her sides, pulling her closer as I crush my mouth to hers. It’s not just a kiss—it’s everything I’ve been holding back. It’s a promise, a claim, a desperate attempt to show her all the things I can’t put intowords. That I’ll protect her, that I’ll fight for her, that no matter how lost I feel, she’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

Before I deepen the moment, a voice in my head cuts through the haze. Should you be doing this right now? As much as I crave her, as much as I want to claim her, I care too much about her well-being to be reckless. I don’t know what triggers her panic attacks, and the last thing I want is to cause her more pain.

So, I pull back slightly, my chest heaving with the conflict inside me. She’s not ready to lose herself in me—not like this—and I’m not ready to risk pushing her too far.

Sophia places her hands on my shoulders, tilting her head back so we’re eye to eye. “Maxim, I’m okay. This is okay. I can handle this.” Her voice is soft but firm, her confidence grounding me. She presses her lips to mine again, and I let go of the small amount of control I had managed to grasp, surrendering to her. The kiss deepens, her tongue slipping into my mouth, caressing mine, and all I can do is hold her tighter.

I wrap my arms around her hips, pulling her flush against me, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her body pressed so perfectly against mine. Fuck, she feels amazing. There was a time when I thought I’d never hold her again—never feel the warmth of her skin or the fire of her kiss. To have her here, in my arms, is nothing short of a blessing.

I squeeze her ass hard enough to bruise, pulling her closer, needing her. The intensity of it is overwhelming—an ache deep inside me, desperate for reassurance that she is safe, that she’s still here, still mine.

---