Page 52 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
“Get on your hands and knees.”
I do, bracing my palms over the frigid floor. He must control the air-conditioning in this room apart from the rest of the house. It’s colder in here. My teeth are chattering, and yet sweat drips down my spine at the same time, a twisted dichotomy.
In this realm, even logic ceases to matter.
Another blow lands across my lower back. Another strikes my hip. My thigh.
“Strip,” he commands.
I do so without bothering to stand up, shimmying from my dress. His footsteps echo, resonating in my bones as he circles my position, eyeing his handiwork. None of the lashings broke the skin, but they came damn close. The one on my hip smarts like hell, and I grit my teeth against making a sound. Attuned to my body like any true predator, he nudges that wound with the whip as if aware of the amount of pain inflicted in each particular spot.
Without warning, the whip hisses through the air and lands in between my shoulder blades. It hurts. I can’t smother a groan, even as my thoughts start to dissipate, drunk on the burning sting.
Merciless, he hits me again.
Again.
Eventually, he forsakes the whip entirely and captures a fistful of my hair, wrenching me to my feet. Without explanation, he guides me to the marble slab and shoves me across it. Shivers ripple down my spine as he slides his hand between my legs, hissing at what he finds.
“There are things I want to do to you that would terrify you,” he admits, stroking his damp fingers up the curve of my back, leaving a trail of moisture in his wake. “Things you aren’t ready for. I’ve been patient, but fuck… Can you trust your body to me, even now?”
A part of me realizes in horror just what he’s doing—begging.
Do I trust him? With his voice thick with lust, his fingers trembling with malice, my body on fire from his lashing…
Slumped against the marble slab, all I can do is nod. The intensity with which I do so makes my mind reel and has him grunting in relief. What dark, twisted fantasies has he held back from enacting?
For whatever reason, I’ll take them without asking. Without hesitating.
His fingers dance over the throbbing skin of my ass, lingering there on purpose to heighten my anticipation. I writhe, too on edge to remain submissive. The disobedience makes him hum, and I know he’s savoring the thought of whatever punishment lies in store.
“No one’s ever fucked you in this way,” he suspects, inching lower down the curve of my hip, to the center of my back. Then lower…
Oh. I have a grim suspicion as to what he wants.
“I can tell,” he adds accusingly. “You stiffen whenever I touch you here. Why?”
My cheeks catch fire at the intimacy of the question. Because no matter how broke or how desperate I’ve been, no one could ever make me relinquish that one, small bit of myself. No one. Anal sex was never on the menu to any John, no matter the price.
“Do you trust this to me?” Maxim wonders, invading my thoughts so easily that it’s pointless to speak them out loud. Heknows. More than I should be comfortable with allowing. More than any other man ever will. “I won’t take it from you—” He slides his fingers dangerously close to the entrance no one has ever touched. Not even him.
I tremble, my chest heaving. I’d be lying if I claimed I wasn’t afraid. What little I know of anal is that it hurts. Like hell. If done too violently, it can cause lasting damage. Unimaginable pain…
And yet, my hips buck—towardhim, not away.
“You’re so perfect for me,” he grates against the groove of my neck. It’s both a praise and a curse. Perfect for him. Squirming and willing, thwarting the perfectionist in him that craves control. I’m ruining his careful, precise vision of taking my last shred of virginity. I’m far too fucking eager. Voice breaking, he commands, “Tell me I can have you—”
“Yes.” The words escape me before he’s even finished speaking. “You…you can have me.”
He whispers something too softly to make out. An apology? His thumb grazes my lips before I can question. He parts them with persistent pressure, finding my tongue. Slowly, he wets his fingers—but I don’t understand why until he moves behind me, urging me to lie higher across the altar.
I nearly jump out of my skin as he guides his thumb between the crack of my ass, finding that elusive opening. One of his hands captures mine, gripping tight as his other pins my hip to the marble.
I only have enough sense to suck in a breath of air before he slips his thumb inside…
Out.
In.
