Page 52 of Bound Vows
After Katarina leaves with promises to return with additional intelligence reports, Maya and I remain in uncomfortable silence.
“How much of that conversation did you hear?” I ask as Maya settles into the chair Katarina vacated.
“Enough to confirm beyond a shadow of a doubt that your intelligence coordinator has feelings that extend beyond professional loyalty. The question is whether you’re aware of those feelings and what you plan to do about them.”
“Katarina’s personal feelings don’t affect her professional performance. She’s been loyal to this organization for years.” I pour myself a glass of vodka from the bottle in my desk drawer. “Whatever attraction she might feel is irrelevant to our working relationship.”
“Irrelevant attraction that manifests as touching you inappropriately and making comments about protecting you better than I can.” Maya’s voice is laced with something I’ve never heard— jealousy mixed with possession. “She wants you, Andrei. She’s wanted you since Elena died, maybe even before, and my presence threatens whatever future she’s been planning.”
I offer Maya the vodka, which she accepts despite the early hour. “Her feelings are unrequited, Piccola. I’ve never given her reason to believe otherwise.”
“You don’t have to give someone reason to hope. Sometimes, proximity and loyalty are enough to feed delusions about eventual reciprocation. Her unrequited feelings make her dangerous to me specifically.”
“Katarina understands the consequences of threatening what belongs to me. Her intelligence makes her valuable, but not irreplaceable. I’m more interested in discussing your reaction to her presence.”
“My reaction?” Maya scoffs.
“The jealousy you’re trying very hard to disguise as concern. The way you positioned yourself to mark your territory when you entered the room. The possessive edge in your voice when you referred to me as your husband.” I smile at her obvious discomfort. “You’re threatened by another woman’s interest.”
“I’m annoyed by another woman’s unprofessional behavior toward my husband. There’s a difference.” Maya finishes the vodka and sets the glass on the desk. “I admit the situation is… irritating.”
“Irritating enough to make you jealous?”
“Irritating enough to make me want to establish clear boundaries about appropriate behavior around married men.” Maya stands and moves toward the door, then pauses to glance back at me with a seductive smile. “Boundaries that might require more direct demonstration than verbal explanation.”
The promise in her voice sends heat straight to my cock, and I watch her leave with growing anticipation of whatever demonstration she has in mind. Maya’s jealousy is unexpected but arousing, especially since it suggests feelings that extend beyond mere legal obligation.
Evening brings Maya to my bedroom wearing nothing but determination and the kind of hunger that makes my blood simmer. She enters without knocking, closes the door behind her, and approaches the bed where I’m reviewing intelligence reports.
“Put those away,” she commands as she climbs onto the bed to straddle my hips. Her hot, naked pussy scorches through my pants, making my hips jerk up on instinct. “We need to discuss boundaries.”
“Do we?” I set the reports aside and slide my hands up her bare thighs. “What kind of boundaries?”
“The kind that make it clear who you belong to.” Maya leans down and bites my lower lip hard enough to draw blood, thensoothes the sting with her tongue. “Since subtle approaches seem insufficient.”
“And this is your idea of unsubtle?”
“I’m going to mark my territory so thoroughly that even your delusional intelligence coordinator understands the situation.” Maya reaches between us, frees my cock from my pajamas, and begins trailing kisses down my throat while her hand strokes me torturously slowly.
“You’re playing with fire, Piccola,” I warn as she bites the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder.
“Good. I want to burn away any doubt about who you belong to.” Her mouth moves lower, sliding her tongue down my chest while her hand continues its maddening rhythm. When she reaches my nipple and bites gently, I groan and thrust into her grip.
“Maya,” I breathe as she alternates between her mouth and her hand.
“Tell me you’re mine,” she demands against my skin. “Tell me no other woman gets to touch you like this.”
“You know the answer to that.”
“I want to hear you say it.” She increases the pressure of her strokes, circling her thumb around the head of my cock in ways that make my vision blur. “Say it, Andrei.”
“I’m yours,” I admit as she takes me into her mouth without warning, her wet heat and skilled tongue destroying what remains of my control. “Only yours.”
She pulls back just enough to speak. “And don’t you forget it.”
Maya positions herself above me and sinks slowly, taking me inch by devastating inch while maintaining eye contact that makes the claiming feel even more intense.
She sets a punishing rhythm, riding me with such aggression that it feels more like conquest than seduction. She rakes her nails down my chest, leaving marks that will be visible for days, and when I try to flip our positions, she pins my wrists to the mattress.
