Doctored Vows - Chapter 19

“Doc.”

Consistent, dull pounding wakes me every day. Today is no different. It is just the location of the thud, thud, thud that’s changed. My head is demanding more sleep, but the throbbing pulse is several inches lower than my temples.

It is between my legs, and the delicious ache rushes memories of the event I was undertaking before I collapsed from exhaustion to the forefront of my mind.

Touching.

Groping.

More orgasms than I can count.

I consummated my vows as if they were legitimate instead of the arrangement they are.

I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I knew my heart wouldn’t survive a second in Maksim’s presence, so why did I expect anything different from my body?

I guess I could excuse it on the fact my body usually demands less. It is the vessel of my heart and brain. It never gets a say in any decisions I make.

I can’t say that anymore.

It wanted Maksim almost as much as my heart did.

My tongue briefly skims over a delicious salty palette when I wet my lips. It is only the quickest sample, but it heightens my senses as rapidly as the fullness between my legs grows.

I open my eyes before snapping them shut again.

They were barely open for a second, but it was long enough to announce to Maksim that I am awake. His cock—that is still inside me—thickens as he brushes off a strand of hair that fell across my eye.

“I’d let you continue sleeping if I could, Doc.”

As his gravelly tone brings me out of my zombie state, the horror of the situation smacks into me.

I fell asleep on him after he awarded me the best sex of my life.

Was it before he came?

After?

Did I drool on him?

When I inch back, too horrified by the possibility not to check, Maksim’s groan rolls through me. “Easy. If you want me to keep my word to Zoya, you need to quit wiggling. A man can only take so much teasing.”

Confusion rolls through me. “Zoya is here?”

I stop scanning the living room of Maksim’s suite when his growl announces he wouldn’t even allow my best friend to see me in such a compromising position. I’m somewhat dressed. My skirt is just now a belt, and my bra is a midriff top.

“No. Zoya messaged your phone not long after you crashed.” He nudges his head to my phone, which is dumped on a side table next to the sofa we got freaky on. “I messaged her back so she wouldn’t worry.”

I gulp hard when I notice the time on my phone.

I napped for more than a few minutes.

I’ve been sleeping for almost three hours.

My eyes bulge when I flick through the planner in my head and land on an important task I was meant to undertake this evening.

“I have to go.” Maksim’s groan when I dismount him makes me want to forget the promises I made. If they were pledged to anyone but Zoya, I would.

As my skirt slips down my thighs, covering me, I snatch up my shirt and place it on before diving for my phone. “I’m meant to be preparing pre-club… snacks… and… cocktails.”

The gasping delay between my words is easily excusable. Maksim is naked from the waist down. His cock—still sheathed by a condom that exposes he mercifully finished before I collapsed from exhaustion—is impressive enough to hang heavy on his thigh, and unlike earlier, his chest is exposed since the buttons on his dress shirt are undone. “No undershirt today?”

I realize I spoke my inner monologue out loud when Maksim’s eyes stray to a white A-frame shirt dumped near the pants he kicked off during our escapades, and he says, “I knew you had plans, so I didn’t want you to have a sleep crinkle in your cheek.”

My throat dries when I take in the ridges and bumps of his stomach a second after his smooth pecs. “I guess it’s lucky I slept on your chest and not your stomach.”

His smirk reveals he appreciates my underhanded compliment, but he keeps my focus where it needs to be, which also exposes he understands Zoya’s importance in my life. “Doc?”

“Yeah?” I reply while fighting to take my eyes off his delicious body.

He waits for me to finish my long appraisal, before saying, “Get a move on before I add more items to my terms.”

I snap my eyes to his face so fast I make myself dizzy. “We can add more?”

His agreeing murmur isn’t something I’ll ever hear and not squirm. “Especially if it entails anything similar to what we just did.”

I can’t talk. Think. I can’t do anything.

I’m too busy calculating how much paper I’ll need for the terms I want to add.

A clink of laughter from next door snaps me from my wicked thoughts.

“I should go?” I grit my teeth before changing my question to an affirmation. “I better go.” My second attempt shows progress, but I give it another shot since it’s still imperfect. “I’m going.”

When I lean in to farewell Maksim like he did me this morning, I fight with all my might not to drop my eyes to his cock.

I miserably fail, and the chuckle of my husband when I limp for the door, groaning like a child, proclaims how satisfied he is with my devastation.

When Zoya exits Aleena’s room, I pretend I didn’t max out all my phone storage by airdropping her photos of my “wedding” to my phone.

“All settled?”

She looks as exhausted as I feel. “Finally.” Her flop onto the sofa wafts up her familiar scent before her deep exhale blows it away. “Today was…”—a hundred words roll through my head as she takes time to find the right one—“amazing.” Her eyes are on me, heartfelt and misted. “Thank you so much.”

“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

She smacks my words back into my mouth with a cushion before saying, “No prenup, baby. So any gift from Maksim today was also a gift from you.”

I’d groan over her reminder Maksim didn’t protect his assets with a prenuptial agreement if I wasn’t so damn appreciative of how special he made Aleena’s day.

He didn’t just assist in the pre-hen party preparation. He went all out for the entire event. Food. Drinks. Limousine transfers to and from a DJ gig at a nightclub that’s been sold out for months.

He even had four of the hotel’s security team escort us, so if anyone got out of hand, they were moved on before Aleena’s friends and bridal party felt uncomfortable.

“I’ve seriously had the best day of my life. I never would have predicted that would be the statement that ended my day when I woke up this morning.”

Zoya hums in agreement as if she had similar thoughts before she nudges me with her shoulder. “Then what are you still doing here? Why aren’t you taking full advantage of the alone time before we fly home tomorrow? I love Gigi, but you know as well as I do that if Maksim makes you scream like you did earlier today, she’ll take his head off with a baseball bat.”

“Z!”

“What? It was so hot I’m seriously reconsidering my stance on sex club parties.” She stands on the couch, arches over it, then shakes her ass. “You don’t have to participate, but what are your thoughts on this pose? Too risqué or tastefully nasty?”

Laughing, I spank her backside before leaping up from the sofa and making a beeline for my room.

“Are you seriously staying here? He had one request, Keet.” She holds her pointer finger in the air to emphasize her statement. “One!”

“It’s late.”

Zoya scoffs at me. “Don’t act like he isn’t awake, awaiting your return.”

When she follows me to my room, I press my finger to my lips, wordlessly requesting she be quiet before squashing my ear to the wall dividing my suite from Maksim’s. “I don’t want to wake him if he’s asleep.”

“He isn’t asleep.” Even though she’s arguing, she presses her ear to the wall, mimicking me.

I can tell the exact moment she hears the same thing as me, as her brows scrunch before worry settles on her face.

Maksim isn’t alone, and his visitor is female and most likely under the age of thirty-five.

“Maybe it’s the TV?” Zoya defends.

“That isn’t the TV,” I reply when the female laughs at something Maksim says. “There’s nothing but infomercials on at this time of the night, and her voice is too young to be an infomercial host.” I almost say too seductive, but my jealousy won’t let me.

My theory is proven accurate when Maksim’s voice breaks over the thud of my heart in my throat. “I appreciate you coming, Raya. I know it is late, and you’ve traveled a long way, but hopefully I made the trip worthwhile.”

“Of course you did.” I gag on the seductive purr of her reply.

I hear Maksim’s smirk when he says, “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I wouldn’t say no to a chaperon to my car.”

When footsteps move away from us, Zoya and I lock eyes, sharing a million words without a single one escaping our lips, before we sprint for the entryway of our suite like we’re competitors in a marathon.

I curse Zoya’s long legs to hell when she beats me to the peephole. It isn’t a long scold. It only lasts as long as it takes for her throat to work through a stern swallow.

A second after she inches back from the peephole, I spot the cause of her unease. Maksim is guiding a beautiful redhead down the corridor.

She would be of similar age to Zoya and me, but her clothing makes her appear far more mature. Her dress hugs her curves—particularly the one Maksim’s hand is hovering near—and her stilettos are the red-bottom ones every woman dreams of owning one day.

When they disappear from view, I spin away from the door and flatten my back against it. I honestly don’t know what emotion to express first. I’m hurt, angry, and so very jealous, but I’m also confused.

Why do all the wonderful things he did tonight and throw them away before getting any accolades for them?

“Maybe he wasn’t expecting me to give it up so easily,” I answer my thoughts.

“No, Nikita. This isn’t on you. And we don’t even know what this is. She could be an acquaintance? Maybe she helped him arrange all the things he did today?” Zoya tries to rationalize.

“His hand was on her ass. They’re more than colleagues.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was near it but not on it.” When I glare at her in disbelief, shocked she’s defending him, she says, “You don’t see how he looks at you. He’s crazy about you.”

“The only thing he’s crazy about is thinking I will let this slide.” When I walk away, her eyes follow me. “It is two in the morning. No one has business meetings at two in the morning.”

Zoya’s giggle when I snag a dining room chair out from under the dining room table frustrates me, but I act like I don’t hear it while shoving the chair under the lock that jangles two seconds after I barricade it.

I beat Zoya to the peephole this time, and I’m glad. She may not have survived the death stare Maksim hits the peephole with when a second swipe of his keycard on the electronic lock fails to disengage the lock.

“Nikita, open the door.” His voice is far calmer than the tightness pinching his face. I inch back from the door when he locks his eyes with the peephole and says, “I know you’re there. I can see your shadow under the door.”

Zoya and I are smart enough not to move—forcing the shadows under the door to dance is the oldest trick in the book—but there’s little we can do to settle our breaths when Maksim says, “You have twenty minutes. If you’re not in my bed in twenty minutes, I will come get you.”

It takes thirty seconds for Maksim’s shadow to move from underneath the door and another thirty seconds for Zoya’s breathing to regulate enough for her to speak. “What are you going to do?”

“Nothing. I’m not going to do a damn thing.”

She stares at me with a dazed look for several long seconds before finally realizing one thing is more capable of stealing my maturity than she is.

My wish to be placed first.

“You want him to fight for your attention.” She thrusts her hand at the door. “You’re disappointed he didn’t knock down that door and drag you to his bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Why would I want to sleep on the same sheets he just messed with another woman?”

“Because you know he didn’t do anything.” I scoff, but she continues talking as if I didn’t react. “I get it. I understand why you feel this way.” She hits the nail on the head when she says, “But you need to stop punishing every guy you meet for something your dad did. He chose to go after the people who hurt your mom, knowing it would take him away from you as well. Maksim⁠—”

“Is a stranger! So stop acting like he isn’t.”

Over the same conversation we have whenever I end a date early because the guy is an ass, I storm into my room and slam the door so hard I wake Aleena.

I hear her ask Zoya if everything is okay. At the same time a deep voice behind me says, “Twenty minutes was far too generous.”

My hand shoots for the door handle as I twist to face it, but Maksim crowds me against it before I can race through it. “We can either do this the easy way or the hard way, Doc. I’m open to either.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I seethe, more annoyed that Zoya’s accusation was more truthful than deceitful. My mother and sister were taken from me, but my father chose to leave.

That hurts.

My lungs can fill again when Maksim steps back, shockingly giving up.

I realize the error of my ways when he growls, “Hard way it is.” Five seconds later, he pulls me away from the door with a tug on my wrist, bobs down, and then tosses me over his shoulder.

Zoya and Aleena freeze when he throws open my door like I’m not whacking into his back like a psycho, but they do nothing to help me get free of his hold.

They just watch as he kicks the chair I stuffed under the door and walks me down the corridor separating the penthouse suites before they’re stolen from my view by Maksim walking me into his room, acting oblivious to how many times I kick and punch him.

“Let me go, Maksim,” I shout. “If you don’t let me go, I’ll scream so loud everyone will know you’re holding me against my will.”

“And then what will they do, Doc? Try to take you away from me? Try to save you from me?” His voice is as hostile as mine, his anger just as apparent. “They’d never be so stupid.”

Even him walking us toward a bed with sheets pulled tight enough that you could bounce a nickel on them doesn’t calm my anger. This isn’t about jealousy anymore. This is about how quickly your life can change and how rarely it is a good mix-up.

For now, Maksim’s influence is good, but what happens when he decides I’m no longer enough, and I’m once again left to fend for myself?

These fears are why I haven’t extended my inner circle once in the past eight years.

Zoya is my one and only friend by choice.

“I can do this all night, Doc,” Maksim warns a second before placing me on the bed and caging me with his arms. “All. Fucking. Night.” He waits for me to accept the promise in his eyes before asking, “So are we going to do this with words or actions?”

“Fuck you.”

His smirk makes me hate myself more than I already do. “We will get to that… eventually. But first, we need to work out what the hell has your panties in such a twist you can’t abide by my sole term in our agreement. My bed, Doc. My bed every night⁠—”

“Even after it’s been heated by someone else?”

When my jealousy shocks him, I slip under his arm and race for the door.

He once again beats me to it, but this time, he crowds me against it until I have no misgivings of what he meant when he said he could use actions instead of words.

He’s hard and bulging, and the thickness that hasn’t left my head for a single second tonight, even while dancing amongst a group of sweaty bodies, sends my head into a tailspin.

“Don’t,” I plea when he grinds against me, simmering my anger by replacing it with lust.

He ignores my demand. “Do you feel how hard you make me? How fucking crazy?” He rocks his hips forward another four times, firmer and deeper each time. “I fucked my hand for two weeks straight because no one could hold my interest long enough for me to even look at them.” He drops one of the hands he’s using to keep my arms pinned above my head to my waist before he tugs me back so the swell of my ass nestles his cock. “Why would I give this up so soon after discovering you were worth every single second I tormented myself by denying myself of you?” He answers on my behalf. “I wouldn’t. I won’t.” His following four words are the ones I need to hear the most. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But—”

“No fucking buts.” The hand he flattened against my stomach slips beneath my panties. “I don’t want anything but this.” He strums my clit like a musician would a guitar, making me even more desperate than a fool with abandonment issues. “No one but you.”

When he licks my shoulder, I moan, my defenses weakening. It isn’t solely his pledge slackening my worry. It’s also the cool breeze floating in from outside.

It discloses that he scaled a balcony ninety floors high to get to me.

Ninety. Floors!

His eagerness to reach me has me wondering if maybe there’s more to this than just lust. Perhaps he was brought into my life for a reason.

I arch back from the door, giving him more access to the areas of my body dying for his attention. Maksim accepts my wordless offer with a breathy groan before the hand between my legs becomes more teasing than tormenting. He places pressure on my clit with his thumb before sliding two fingers between the lines of my pussy.

“Already so wet for me,” he groans against my sticky neck before he slips two fingers inside me, making me moan. “But I think we can do better.”

He pumps into me enough times to dampen his palm before he withdraws his fingers, twists me around, and then flattens my back to the door. My breath hitches halfway to my lungs when he falls to his knees in front of me.

The lusty stare he hits me with is similar to the one in the video I watched earlier today, but instead of holding back his desire to devour me whole, he does the exact opposite.

He slips down my panties, which are shadowed with wetness, before he makes my dress even more immodest by shoving it up until it wraps around my quivering stomach.

“You have such an enticing cunt, Nikita. So pretty and pink.” His words alone build a familiar sensation low in my stomach, so you can imagine how potent the spasms become when he moves his mouth to within an inch of my pussy. “Why would I want anything else?”

Before I can answer him, his tongue flicks my clit, and my knees almost buckle. I feel his lips rise more than I witness his grin. He loves making me so needy I can’t think, speak, or breathe. And I’m too horny to care if it makes me look like a lovesick idiot.

A sex god is kneeling in front of me, licking, biting, and teasing my pussy with a mouth as sinful as his devilish good looks.

I’d be insane to give this up.

As Maksim makes love to my pussy with his mouth, I brace myself against the door and flutter my eyes shut. Waves of ecstasy roll through me as my limbs tighten in preparation for release.

I should be horrified by how quickly he makes me come undone, but I’m not. His talents are wondrous, and I’m limp and pliable within minutes. If it weren’t for his big hand gripping my ass, holding me hostage to his mouth, I would have stumbled by now.

“Look at me,” Maksim demands as I tighten around him, racing toward release.

As I rake my teeth over my lower lip, striving to calm the hysteria roaring through me with a smidge of pain, I flutter open my eyes and lower them.

Our eyes make contact, and I hiss. The tilt of my hips means I can see everything he’s doing to me. His tongue connecting with my clit. His fingers coated in my arousal as he thrusts them in and out of me. A thickness not even the sturdiest material could conceal. I can see every wicked detail, and the naughtiness is my undoing.

My hands search for something to tether to as the tingles rushing through me redden my skin. One settles on Maksim’s hair, and the other twists around the doorknob.

I tug on his shiny locks, messing up their slicked-back design as my thighs clench his head.

My climax is long, and my tugs are cruel, but Maksim acts like he can’t get enough. He continually flicks his tongue over my clit and groans like the pleasure pouring through me is also engulfing him.

I love how much he enjoys giving head. I grunt and grind like I’m possessed.

Then I fully surrender.

“Yes,” Maksim hisses against my soaked sex, his grip on my ass more pleasing than painful. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come, Doc. So fucking delicious.” He sucks on the sensitive skin that pulled me under once more before he stands, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, then seals his lips over mine.

I can taste myself on his mouth, but instead of being repulsed, I’m turned on.

Some of the mess between my legs is transferred to his suit jacket when he bands his arm around my ass and hoists me against him. While I return the lashes of his tongue and his playful bites, he walks us back to the bed that looks like it hasn’t been slept in for days.

We kiss at the foot of the mattress for several long minutes before Maksim eventually inches back. He nips at the lip I protrude in disappointment before he places me on the bed and takes another step back.

I’m mesmerized in under a second when his hand shoots to his cufflinks. There’s something sexy about his unhurried pace. He makes it seem like not even a hurricane could come between us. He has all the time in the world, and if I want to hog every second of it, I can have them all.

I love that more than anything.

My breathing stalls when the removal of his cuffs and suit jacket is closely followed by the unbuttoning of his business shirt. His shoulders are bulky and defined, stacked onto pecs that display peak physical fitness and a midsection I’d trace with my tongue even if he’d spent his day aboard public transport.

His body is divine, and it is taking everything I have not to reach out and touch every spectacular dip, ridge, and bulge.

“If you wanna touch, Doc, touch. I won’t stop you.”

Desire overwhelms me when his belt clatters to the floor a second before the designer brand of his briefs is exposed by a slow, careless tug on the waistband of his pants. I’ve felt what’s hiding beneath the black material, traced the veins feeding it with my tongue. I know exactly how magnificent it is, but I’m still eyeballing his crotch as if it is the first time I’ve ever seen a penis.

“So fucking impatient,” Maksim murmurs with a groan when my needy breaths have him lowering his pants faster than he removed his shirt and jacket.

His cock bobs when it’s freed from his briefs, and the tip is already wet with pre-cum, but before my tongue can answer the deviant plans of both my head and heart, Maksim ends my campaign with two little words. “Your turn.”

When I stare at him, clueless, he drops his eyes to my dress, which is barely club appropriate. It is skimpy and risqué—a dress you’d usually find on Zoya’s sexy frame instead of mine. It isn’t a look I can pull off, but since I was feeling airy and free after back-to-back orgasms, I threw caution to the wind and let Zoya and Aleena dress me as if I were a Barbie doll.

“I—”

Maksim shoves my denial to the back of my throat before snatching up my wrist and plucking me from the bed. I crash into his chest with enough force to wind me. However, it is not the cause of my sudden breathlessness. It is from feeling how he thickens when he spins me to face a freestanding mirror in the corner of the room. It is one of those antique-looking gold-leafed mirrors you can buy at IKEA for a couple of hundred, except it seems genuine instead of a cheap knockoff.

My confidence slithers off a cliff when Maksim commences walking us to the mirror. His gorgeous tan skin reflects the overhead lighting illuminating his suite like Hollywood stage lights. It makes it even more tempting, whereas my pasty-white skin absorbs the light more than it bounces it. It increases its gaunt appearance, and even from a distance, you can tell my muscles aren’t defined like Maksim’s. They are forced to keep moving. Maksim’s move with purpose.

“I’m—”

“So fucking beautiful.” He drags my hair away from my neck and pulls it behind my shoulders. “So fucking sexy. Christ”—he grinds himself against me like he can’t wait a second longer to feel my skin against him—“I could come just from looking at you.”

When his hand on my waist lowers to the dangerously high-riding hem of my dress, I brace one of my hands on the mirror and drop my head. His fingers are so long, even with his hand not officially slipping under my dress, they brush my pussy.

My clit is still thrumming and hard, desperate for any morsel of attention he wishes to award it.

“Look at me,” Maksim demands, his voice husky with lust.

He awards my submissiveness by placing a delicious amount of pressure on my clit with his thumb before he slowly inches two fingers inside me.

He finger fucks me for several long minutes, teasing and stimulating me until I am on the edge of hysteria before he cruelly pulls me back to reality. “Now look at her.”

When his eyes dart to the side, mine instinctively follow. Instead of the troll I’m anticipating, I am confronted by a lady with wide, lusty eyes, glistening kiss-swollen lips, and enough heat on her cheeks to convince her she should go without makeup more often.

I look presentable—desirable, even.

And since I feel so completely different, I don’t cringe when Maksim’s tug on my dress sends my bosom spilling out the top. My nipples are rosy and strained, begging for attention, and my skin is so flawlessly unblemished it could only look better if covered in Maksim’s marks.

“Now she understands,” Maksim groans out slowly, his hand as teasing as his hot breaths on my neck. He traces them across my collarbone, tickling my shoulder blade with his stubble. “My wife is a fucking goddess.”

When he steps back, I almost wilt like a picked flower left on a windowsill. The only reason I don’t is there is no denying his attraction when our eyes lock in the mirror. He’s as drunk as I am, just as snowed under. He truly appears as if his every wish has been granted, and for some strange reason, that gift is me.

When I spin to face him, almost stumbling since his painfully erect cock is the first thing my eyes land on, the air hisses and cracks with sexual chemistry. It humidifies the air so well I’m glad Maksim was too impatient to close the door he stormed through before scaling the balconies between our rooms.

I’m hot all over.

Even more so when Maksim rolls his tongue over his lips, his eyes flaring when he tastes me on his mouth before he repeats his earlier demand. “Your turn.”

I don’t hesitate for a second. Who would? I’ve never been looked at with so much need. So much hunger.

Once I unzip the dress all the way down, it slips off my body with only the slightest whoosh. I’m naked now—fully naked head to toe except for my scuffed-to-within-an-inch-of-their-life stilettos—but so fixated on how much pre-cum drips from Maksim’s cock as he drags his eyes over my body, you’d swear I was draped in diamonds.

My eyes lift from Maksim’s cock to his face when he whispers, “You make me forget how to breathe. One glance, and I forgot every instinct I was born with. Every moral. Every principle. I forgot anything that wasn’t associated with you.”

With my self-loathing obliterated and my confidence at an all-time high, I become the woman I swore I’d grow up to be. I throw myself into Maksim’s arms before kissing him as if his mouth is the secret weapon to bring me out of my shell.

Hands, arms, and legs go in all directions as I attack him with the savagery of a bear. We’re naked and wet but clawing at each other as if there are layers of clothes between us.

“Not yet,” Maksim breathes over my kiss-swollen lips when I grip his cock and lead it to the opening of my pussy. “You’re not wet enough yet.” The wooden flooring offers relief to my overheated skin when he rolls me over before tracing a slow yet desperate kiss down my quivering stomach. “I need you fucking drenched.”

My shoulder blades meet when he spears his tongue inside a second after he swivels it around my aching clit. He stuffs it deep inside, urging me toward the finish line with frantic licks and sucks before ensuring a climax is imminent by adding fingers to the mix.

He places so much pressure between his fingers and my clit, before I can warn him of its arrival, I fall into pieces, and his name rips from my throat.

“Fuck… God… Please.”

Sentences are above me.

Breathing is above me.

And so is Maksim.

His giant, brooding frame hovers over me a second before he tilts my hips, lines up for a home run, and then enters me with one ardent thrust.

I call out, the sensation almost overwhelming.

I’ve never felt so full and content at the same time. I’m stretched beyond my limit, my vagina burning as it struggles to accommodate his size, but ecstatic to have reached this stage of our exchange for the second time.

Lust thickens my veins when Maksim drags his cock all the way out before he slams back in. He takes me so deep that I ride the crest between pain and pleasure for several long seconds before it veers in one direction—pleasure.

“Oh god, you’re so…”

“Deep.”

He thrusts into me harder.

“Hard.”

I clamp around him when he adds a flick to his hips that drives me wild.

“Striving not to lose control.” He aligns our eyes, his pupils widening when I don’t attempt to hide how he makes me feel. “I’ll burn down the entire world and everyone in it before I will ever give this up. I won’t let anyone take this from me.”

He waits for me to see the honesty in his eyes before he screws me senseless. He takes charge of my body, commands every inch, and I let him.

Maksim’s toes dig into the wooden floorboards as the wave in my stomach crests. He drives into me on repeat, fucking me as I’ve never been fucked. He acts like it is his mission to unravel me, to have me screaming his name loud enough for all the guests at his hotel to hear.

He fucks like a machine designed solely to make me come.

And that is precisely what I do two seconds later.

As an orgasm crashes into me, Maksim’s name tears from my throat. I quiver around him, my thighs trembling as frequently as the moans bellowing around the sex-scented space, but his pace doesn’t slow in the slightest. He continues driving into me, grunting, panting, and increasing my screams until they reach an ear-piercing level.

“Yes, Doc. Scream my name. Say it so loud I’ll hear it for a week.”

When he tilts my ass higher, giving himself unrestricted access to my pussy, a familiar tightening in the lower half of my stomach builds again. It forms like a wildfire—out of control and with no chance of being diminished.

He pumps into me on repeat, caking my skin with sweat with every perfect thrust. I’m overcome in an instant, clawing and panting as fireworks detonate through me for the umpteenth time tonight.

As a ruckus of devastation scorches my veins, I still before throwing my head back and moaning through the stars blistering before me.

The tingles spreading from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair augment when Maksim grinds out his release. He thrusts into me another three times before the hot spurts of cum erupting from his cock extend my orgasm.

“Fuck, Doc,” he groans between frantic breaths as he struggles to fill his lungs with air. “How is this even real?” He bites at my lips and licks up a droplet of sweat before he rolls over, taking me with him.

We lay entangled for several long minutes, the heat never lessening despite our nakedness.

How could it when the most intimate parts of our bodies are still joined?

“No,” Maksim murmurs a short time later when I attempt to wiggle out of his embrace. I’d rather stay wrapped up in his warmth, but even if I hadn’t studied the female anatomy, I’d still know the importance of using the facilities after sexual activities. “Let him stay. My cock loves being surrounded by your heat.”

His groggy voice is so sexy nothing but need fuels my tone when I ask, “Even when we’re not doing anything?”

Maksim lowers the arm he threw over his eyes before peering at me. I smile when I notice how at peace he seems. There’s no crinkle between his brows, and his eyes still shimmer with danger, but more because of the damage they could inflict on my heart than anything else.

“Even when we’re not doing anything.” His cock twitches, and the fire that has barely simmered reignites all over again. “Though I doubt that will be a regular occurrence. It seems to have a mind of its own when it comes to you.”

“Oh sweet Jesus,” I murmur when he shows inhumane strength by rising to his feet without losing our connection. He doesn’t even strain under the pressure of our conjoined weights as he exposes that the bumps in his midsection aren’t for show. He has impressive core strength.

As he walks us toward the attached bathroom, he says, “I’ll get you cleaned up like your germ phobia is rubbing off on me, Doc, but we may get a little dirty in the meantime.”

I’d be a liar if I said I wasn’t hopeful.