Page 39 of The Crimson Lily
“As it turns out, I made the deal with the Bratva to work with them. I knew the safe’s combination, and I proposed to help them in exchange for I don’t know what. On top of that, William expectedmeto show, not the Bratva. This tells me I play a way bigger part in this than I think I do. I just can’t remember, and it’s killing me.”
For the next hour, Béatrice assures and reassures me that, for the whole time she’s known me, I have been a good person. She tells me about how I fought for her against the racist, frustrating parts of our educational system and helped her get the job she deserved. She tells me, with tears in her eyes, how much she loves me and how afraid she was yesterday, seeing that gun pointed at me. We both sit on the sofa and cuddle like two best friends at the end of a sad romance movie.
However, even after this moment of solace with my best friend, with her stroking my blond hair as I rested my head on her lap, I have this feeling of guilt gripping my throat. And I have this twisted urge I can’t explain, one that whispers in my ear that I deserve to be punished. That’s why, after spendingthe evening munching on takeaway pizza, I wait and wait until Maksim comes home.
It’s already dark outside when he opens the door. I wear nothing but my oversized shirt again. I let him take off his jacket and shoes, but after that, I don’t wait anymore. I hop to him, wrap my arms around his neck, and go for his lips. He returns my kiss for a little while, pressing me against him, but he eventually lets me go and lets out a frustrated growl.
“Zaya, wait…” He attempts to push me away.
No! I’m not going to wait anymore. I want him. I need him. And I need him to make it hurt a little. I’m screwed up—I admit that to myself. At this moment, I recognize something isn’t completely right.
Is it not, though?
I’m perfectly fine with things getting rough, and not just a little. I’m perfectly fine with Maksim painting my body with his marks. I actually enjoy it. I enjoy this devilishly handsomeBelarusianman marking his territory, making my body his property.
I land at his feet, on my knees, unbuckling his trousers. I can feel how hard he is already. That bulge is screaming at me.
Maksim growls and runs his fingers through my hair. I look up, meeting his furious silver eyes, and he tightens his grip. I slide his trousers and boxer shorts down his legs. My lips have made it their duty to please this man. I wanted to tease him first, so it all starts with gentle kisses, one after the other. He is quivering, a little more after each kiss. His grip has become a fist in my hair, and he lets a grunt escape—a warning sign.
“Don’t play with me like this,suka,” he snarls.
I roll my eyes back up and give him the cocky blue look of provocation; my tongue has joined in with the fun.
I shouldn’t have done that.
Maksim pulls on my hair, forcing me to stand. He’s taking off his shirt in a flurry, his eyes fixated on me.
He lifts me up effortlessly. I squeal, eager or anxious to witness what he’s about to do to me. My squeals turn into cheeky laughter, which he immediately silences by pressing his palm on my mouth.
We don’t make it to the bedroom.
He lays me on the stairs. It isn’t comfortable at all, but right now, I just ache for him. My body begs for it. When I touch the cold marble, he seizes the occasion to latch on to my hips and pull me to him. He lays his hands on my back, pressing me against him, then he enters me with incredible force. I squeeze the railing with one hand, his shoulder with the other. He fucks me hard, right there, on the marble stairs of his family’s vacation home.
This is extremely uncomfortable. I want to say something between my loud moans, but he pulls out and lifts me up again.
He carries me to the kitchen, which I have no time to explore. He places me on top of the large island and fucks me again. I hang on his neck, screaming like a siren. Maksim is giving me the purest of pleasure. I can barely take it, but at the same time, oh, man, this is divine. A chilling pain blazing with ardor. He slips his arms underneath my knees, which makes me release him. He places my legs on his broad shoulders so he can squeeze even deeper. His hands hold on to my neck as a better anchor. I am completely locked in this position. He keeps a steady rhythm until I feel this familiar wave spread through me again. It reaches out to my toes, to the tips of my fingers, all the way to the crown of my head. His grasp around my neck tightens. That’s when the torrent pierces through all invisible walls erected in my mind.
I scream a silenced scream between attempts to catch my breath. I want to stretch my legs but can’t. The second I reach my orgasm, my entire body explodes.
He lets me go so I can recover. I fall backward, landing on the island, trembling and shaking. Maksim brings his hand to my thigh, but spasms immediately overtake me again the second he touches me. My screams are decreasing, but I am still moaning frantically.
When I gather the composure to face him again, he has an obsessive smirk on his face. My eyes venture down his athletic chest, just for a second of awe, then lower and lower, until…
“Oh my!” I exclaim. “Was that all me?”
I count the little splatters on his abdomen.
“It’s not that much,zaya,” he concedes with a tempting smile. “We need to teach you how to make more.”
I giggle loudly and bite my lip. “How will you do that?”
He only responds after he’s flipped me over and taken me from behind, there, on the kitchen island. I struggle to reach the ground with my toes, that pure feeling of pain and pleasure returns. It hurts, yet it is simply exhilarating. A symphony of luscious pain singing through my nerves and blood. In this moment, as the rapture seizes absolute control over me, I’ve never felt more alive.
Maksim’s body comes forward to cage me. “Just. Like. That,” he growls into my ear, each word after each movement.
I come again. Twice. And Maksim follows me after the last one.
As I am recovering between shallow pants, Maksim walks out of the kitchen and vanishes onto the stairs. I hear the water from the shower run. I feel a little confused…and duped. I don’t know what I expected, but a part of me wants to curl up to him and close my eyes. Instead, he left me on the cold kitchen island.
