Page 45 of Hunter

“Fuck,” I murmur against her, my words thick with need. “I’ve been deprived of my favorite meal for so long, Sophia.” I lift her legs, draping them over my shoulders, my lips brushing against her thigh before I take her in, the heat of her already driving me wild.

A teasing smile curves her lips, the playful glint in her eyes making my pulse quicken. “Really?” she breathes out, a hint of humor in her voice. “You should eat it soon.”

Her words make my cock twitch, and I grin, my eyes dark with desire. “That’s my fucking plan,” I growl, and I dive in, my tongue tracing her slit with deliberate slowness. The sound of her moan, desperate and needy, drives me wild, and I lick her hungrily, savoring every taste, every movement. “If this was my last meal, I’d die a fucking happy man.”

My tongue alternates between light strokes and deeper, slower laps, each movement driving her closer to the edge. Her breathing becomes erratic, her body trembling under my touch. I can feel her tightening around me, her body begging forrelease, and I can’t hold back the pleasure building inside me. I want to take her to the brink and push her further.

She grabs my hair, tugging me closer, and I growl in approval, letting her press me deeper into her as I flick my tongue faster, harder. “Oh God, I’m going to come,” she pants, and the words break something inside me. I add my fingers to the mix, sliding them inside her, curling them just right, and she gasps, her back arching, her whole body shaking with need.

“Don’t stop, Maxim,” she begs, her voice trembling. The sound of it is like music to my ears, and I give in, adding another finger, my pace quickening as I suck on her clit, the combination of sensations overwhelming her. She’s so tight, so warm, and I lose myself in the feeling of her beneath me.

Her body shudders, her breath catching as I push her closer to the edge. The intensity of it all overwhelms her, and tears spring to her eyes—not from pain, but from the sheer force of what I’m doing to her. It’s beautiful, watching her fall apart because of me, for me.

I don’t slow down. I keep going, my fingers moving deeper, faster, until she’s screaming my name, her body convulsing in a wave of pleasure.

“Come for me, baby,” I command, my voice low and possessive, and that’s the final push. Her body shakes with release, her back arching off the table as I keep going, helping her ride the waves of pleasure. She’s so fucking perfect, so beautiful, and I’m lost in her, in the feeling of her surrendering to me completely.

“I love you, Sophia,” I breathe, my voice full of raw need, my chest heaving with each breath.

“I love you too,” she whispers, and I feel it—her love, her soul, wrapping around me as our bodies move together, finding our rhythm in a dance we were always meant to share. The world outside fades away, and in this moment, there’s nothing but herand me, nothing but the burning, desperate need to make her feel every ounce of what she means to me.

NINETEEN

SOPHIA

It has been a week since we got back home, and it has been an eventful few days, to say the least. I got an earful from my mom and Jenny for not calling more, for picking up and leaving without telling them where I was going or how long I’d be gone. Even though Maxim did his best to message them, I knew I was going to hear it when I got back. My mom eventually got over it, and we started talking about the trip. Maxim had told them what he told me, so I was prepared with my own version of the story for the first half of my disappearance.

I turn the key in the lock and push the door open, stepping inside. I shut it behind me before flicking on the light. Taking a deep breath, I walk to the center of the room. I look around at the clinic’s light gray walls, the front desk, the chairs lined up against the lobby walls. Everything looks the same as when I left it. I thought it would feel different. I sigh. I don’t know what I was expecting. An office filled with inanimate objects can’t change just because you do.

It feels bittersweet standing here. I was supposed to return to work on Monday, but it felt impossible. I barely managed to take a shower that morning before I changed my mind and crawled back into bed, where Maxim held me for hours as Icried, yelled, and eventually slept. It was an emotional day. By Tuesday, I had managed to walk to the front door; Wednesday, I stepped outside; Thursday, I walked to my car and sat inside. Friday, I turned the engine on and drove halfway before turning back. Today, Saturday, I actually made it here. It’s an accomplishment, even if the clinic is closed.

My phone vibrates with an incoming text, and I already know who it is before I even open it. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I read his message.

This bed feels cold without you next to me, krasavitsa. But I’m proud of you for overcoming your fear and making it to the clinic.

Stalker.

I don’t know how I feel about Maxim having my location on his phone. In one way, I feel safer, but at the same time, I feel like I have no privacy. He told me the other night that he gave himself access to my location to calm his panic when I’m not around. But there’s a part of me that suspects that was just an excuse. Maybe the real reason is to feed into his controlling, possessive tendencies.

Since we’re stating facts today, here’s mine: I love you so fucking much, krasavitsa.

I chuckle, shaking my head at his comment.

You’re an idiot.

\I’m whatever you want me to be, my princess.

The butterflies in my stomach stir, their wings threatening to take flight. God, this man knows how to make my heart skip a beat.

I have to take care of a few things today. I’ll pick you up at four on the dot at the clinic. Don’t you dare leave without me.

And just like that, the mood shifts. Even through a text, I can sense his change. The carefree, funny Maxim is replaced with the demanding mafia boss persona. This was bound to happen. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Maybe it’s because he has been so different over the past week—back to work and not doing or saying anything remotely controlling or disrespectful. I guess I assumed things had changed.

But now, I’m left wondering: Did something happen? His mood shifted in an instant. No. I refuse to make excuses for him.

Yeah, no. That’s not happening. I’m your girlfriend, not your employee. You can’t boss me around. When I’m done with what I need to do here today, I’m getting in my car and going home.

With a roll of my eyes, I stuff my phone back into my pocket, ignoring the constant beeps of incoming messages. I head to my office and sit down. I take a moment, just looking around the room. The shelves are filled with pictures of me and my family, posters of medical procedures, figurines patients gave to my dad and me over the years. This place—this space that used to feel like heaven, a sanctuary from my problems—now feels like it’s closing in on me. All the memories here are crumbling.

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