Page 38 of Fatal Bonds

“You like that?” I murmur, nipping the shell of her ear. “You like it when I fuck your ass,zaya?”

“Yes!” she cries, shuddering violently.

“Then, come with me, little rabbit.Fuck, I’m going to fill you up.”

I press my lips to the tender skin behind her ear, suctioning it with my mouth, and Lindsey screams as her pussy clenches, her ass gripping my cock like a vise. The pleasure is so intense, I couldn’t stop myself from coming if I wanted, but I’ve never wanted to come so badly in my life. Thrusting forward to the hilt, I flood her ass with my cum, and I’m shocked by just how much of it I pump inside her. Lindsey ripples around me, her orgasm long and lingering, urging every last drop of my release into her body until my cum is leaking out around my throbbing length.

“Fuck,” I groan, pressing my forehead into the bed beside her head as I stay buried inside her. I breathe heavily, raking in oxygen to try and stop the world from spinning. I came so hard, black dots burst across my vision, and now that I’m finished, it feels as though all my frustration is gone, replaced by a deep sense of triumph that makes my pulse pound.

Lindsey releases a breathy laugh that ends in a whimper when I twitch inside her. The heat of her anger seems to be gone as well, a warm satisfaction softening her expression, and her lips curl into a lazy smile that makes my chest ache.

“That was—” She shakes her head as she searches for the right word and releases a breath through her nose.

“Good?” I suggest with a low chuckle, and I slowly ease out of her.

A shiver ripples through her body, a soft gasp parting her lips, and the wordless objection makes me instantly harden again.

“So much better than good,” she confesses, her cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

I smirk and lean in to brush my lips across hers. “I’m going to take a shower. Care to join?”

Lindsey groans, and my cock twitches, thickening against my leg.

“I’m not sure I can move,” she says as I rock back off the bed, and for one glorious moment, I get the perfect view of her open thighs, her glistening pink folds, and my pearly cum oozing from her tight hole. Then she rolls lazily onto her side and scoots toward the edge of the bed. “But a shower sounds nice, and I should probably clean off.”

Meeting her at the edge of the bed, I take her hand and pull her onto her feet, wrapping an arm around her waist until her bare skin is firmly pressed against mine. We’re both slick with sweat, the moisture cool between us as I lean in for another kiss.

“I can help with that,” I murmur against her lips.

Lindsey pulls back, her fingers running gently across my pecs, and she peers up at me through her thick lashes. “We’re just having fun, right?”

The question feels loaded and heavy with emotion, and my stomach twists. This was never supposed to be serious, but it feels like I keep creeping closer to that line, and I have to be careful not to cross it.

“We’re just having fun,” I confirm, trapping the sides of Lindsey’s glasses between my fingers and thumbs and lifting them gently from her face. I lean around her to set them on the bedside table and open the drawer, then pluck a condom out.

Her gaze heats as she watches me palm the foil packet, and the Baltic-blue intensity of her eyes makes me rock-hard. Tightening my arm around her hips, I pick her up, and she wraps her legs around me, her lips finding mine as I carry her toward the shower.

16

LINDSEY

Sitting bolt upright in bed, I breathe heavily as I shake off the fog of sleep to figure out what woke me. My stomach gives another violent twist, and I know that’s what did it as I practically levitate out of the bed in my rush to get to the bathroom. Blessedly, I make it just in time, pulling the door shut on the enclosed toilet area as I collapse to my knees, pull my hair back, and empty the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl.

Lenka’s stew is a lot less pleasant on the way back up, and I moan as the gagging sensation intensifies until I have nothing left to throw up. Only then does the cramping ease slightly, and as the first waves of nausea subside, I slump onto the cold tile, panting heavily as I lean against the wall behind me.Did I get food poisoning?Honestly, with Lenka’s cooking, it doesn’t seem likely—especially when it sounds like Maks is still sleeping soundly, completely unaffected.

Maybe it’s just a stomach bug. I do ache all over, but the throbbing between my thighs tells me it could just as easily be from the rather passionate night of sex.And again, how could I be sick if Maks isn’t?Aside from Lenka, and now Kira, who didn’t seem sick at all, he’s the only person I’ve had contact with for nearly two months now. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been Maks’s prisoner, but I was probably at the first house for around a week, and I’m confident I’ve been at his house alone for going on six weeks, so catching a cold seems unlikely if he’s well.

The last thought hits me like a bus, and my heart skips a beat as I count back from today’s date to the one I’m fairly certain Maks brought me to his penthouse. Again, I come out to just over six weeks. In that time, I’ve been so out of the loop with my typical reality that I haven’t even thought about my period. But I’m definitely late—like,weekslate. My stomach drops, and I lurch toward the toilet as a fresh wave of nausea hits me, but I have nothing left to throw up but bile. I can’t be pregnant. There’s no way. We’ve used protection every time until tonight, and there’s no way morning sickness would be hitting me from that already. But it’s the only thing that makes sense, really, because now that I’m done throwing up, I feel fine.

Icy dread trickles into my veins as I consider what that might mean. Timing-wise, if I am pregnant, I think it must have happened that first night in his office, but the odds seem astronomical when I’m confident he used a condom. Then again, they aren’t a hundred percent effective. If it had a small hole in it or broke and we didn’t notice, that’s all it would take.

Slumping against the wall once more, I tip my head back and stare at the ceiling. This can’t be happening. Not when I’m more confused than ever about Maks. Just tonight, he confirmed he not only never wants a wife or family but also that I’ll never see him again once he sets me free. That should be a good thing. The admission should have made me feel relieved. I don’t want to be mixed up in all the death and destruction that surrounds him. If I am pregnant, I sure as hell wouldn’t want to put my baby in that kind of danger. But the thought of raising a child all alone is terrifying—and more than that, it makes me want to cry every time I think about going back to a life without Maks in it.

I have no clue what Maks might make of being a father. Maybe he would blame me for getting pregnant and want nothing to do with the child, or he could want me to get rid of it, considering how clear he is on not wanting a family. The thought makes my stomach knot, and I press my fist to my lips as I gag reflexively. I need to find out if I’m carrying his child, and I need to figure it out quietly so he never has to know. I haven’t thought about running again since the night I came back to Maks. I appreciate his protection, and he’s right. I need it. But just this once, I’ll have to risk sneaking out, and my best chance of success is now—when Maks is asleep, the bedroom door unlocked, and his guards at their least attentive.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I steel my nerves and get up. Slowly, I ease the door open and pad softly across the bathroom tiles. They’re warm under my feet—heated, no doubt, and it reminds me of the wealth and luxury that surrounds Maks. His child would never want for anything, but I can take care of a baby on my own. I would do whatever necessary to protect my baby. My maternal instinct is shockingly strong when I’m not even sure I am pregnant yet, but it sends a thrill through my stomach as I realize I would want to keep this baby—even if the unexpected responsibility terrifies me.

I would love to brush my teeth after throwing up, but I can’t risk any unnecessary noise that might wake Maks. As I reach the open doorway between the en suite bathroom and the master bedroom, I pause to make sure he’s not already awake. The sun is just starting to creep over the horizon, casting a soft golden glow across Maks’s face. He looks peaceful in his sleep, his face younger, somehow, without the stress of what must constantly weigh on his mind. But he still looks powerful and masculine, every inch of his muscular back covered in ink and on full display. His arm is stretched across the vacant space I usually occupy in his bed, and my chest aches with the deep desire to climb back beneath the covers and into his arms. Maybe if I ignore them, my symptoms would just go away. Maybe itisjust a stomach bug, and my period is late because I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, what with having a Bratva leader holding me prisoner and all. But my gut feeling tells me it’s not that simple.

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