Page 36 of The Crimson Lily
“You didn’t do that,” I simply say.
“I did the rest,” he retorts with a growl.
He stares at me, the blue of his eyes almost piercing through me. The longer he stares, the more captured I feel. No exit, no way out. My anger fails me and gives way to this sharp feeling of shame. I look down, unable to hold his gaze anymore. My lips tremble, and I have to draw little breaths to avoid succumbing to my own tears again. I have no other choice but to concede.
“I’ll respect your stupid boundaries,” I spit with a pout, like a little child making a promise to a disapproving parent.
I thought he’d go for the ajar door behind me and leave, but instead, he gives me another growl and pushes me against it. He comes at a standstill in front of me, towering above me, his arms trapping me, his lips wet, and his eyes silver.
“Thank you,” he whispers before kissing me.
I wrap my arms around his neck, returning his kiss. The cadence of his lips intensifies the more my hands explore his bare torso. His hands slip underneath my shirt back to his favorite place, my breasts that fit perfectly in his big hands. He squeezes very hard. It doesn’t hurt, but now I know how the fingerprints got there. He dives into my neck and takes a few bites before flipping me around. I end up with my face pinned against the door.
“Stand on your toes,” he orders, panting.
I am already on my toes. He drops his spy trousers, which he wore all night, and seizes my hips. I feel something hard pressed against me. He’s pulling me backward, against the door, then backward again, as if he’s searching for the best way to take me. The door clicks in the mortise each time, like a stranger is trying to force it open.
“I think I’m too short,” I say with a groan.
He turns me around again, lifts me up and holds me there, pinned against the door.
“You’re really tiny,” he comments with a smirk.
Man, I love it when he speaks to me that way. I love everything he’s doing to me.
He holds one hand under me, and he enters me slowly. I grip myself to him and sink my nails to his skin, feeling him at my deepest. I tense the muscles of my jaw in a vain attempt to silence the loud moans that are escaping my lips.
“Let it out,zaya,” he whispers to my ear. “Let me hear you.”
He grips my hips and leans me against the door, then takes me there, with rapid movements. I’m going to lose balance; I’m going to fall! I have to clutch him with my legs, fast, and I let it all out at his command. I even scream his name.
Ding, dong.
What the hell?
The doorbell rings and rings again. Maksim keeps going at it for extra time until he realizes, in turn, that someone is now knocking on the door.
“Liliana?” I hear a faint voice call from downstairs.
He pulls out, growls intensively, and lets me back on the ground. The voice rings and calls my name again. I recognize it—it’s Béatrice!
“Did you give her this address?” Maksim asks in a distrustful tone.
I just shake my head. I told her I was okay, nothing else.
He rushes to put on his clothes, at least for the lower half of him, and leaves the room. He heads downstairs, and I hear him open the door. I can hear Béatrice’s voice clearer now.
“You are hard to get rid of,” Maksim says.
“Nice apartment. Where is she?” Béatrice asks, ignoring his remark.
“Upstairs.”
I hear loud footsteps in the stairs and meet eyes with Béatrice, who approaches me before casting a worried glance at me.
“My God, your face!” she exclaims.
She has a bruise on her cheek too, but it looks much better than my black eye. She then looks to a shirtless Maksim behind her and at me with my hair all over the place.
