Chapter 2

Two

ANGEL

As soon as Maxim enters the house, I know something is wrong. He’s covered in blood and… is that a woman he’s got slung over his shoulder?

“What the hell is going on?” I ask as he hands her off to Nikita. The large brute grins as he slings her over her shoulder.

“ I’ll tie her up ,” he signs, his grin concerningly wide.

“No. Nope. Not a chance. Tell me what’s happening?” I turn to Maxim. “Why is your nose broken, and why does Nikita look like it’s Christmas?”

Maxim laughs and removes his jacket, chucking it carelessly over the back of the armchair. “Love, Niki is grinning because it might as well be Christmas. And my nose is broken, because she broke it.”

He points to the woman who is hung like a glamourous sack of potatoes over Nikita’s shoulders. I walk over to her and brush her hair back from her face. Recognition hits me and fuck.

Shit. Fuck. Bollocks .

This is bad. Like really bad. Like no way back kind of bad.

“What the fuck have you done, Max?” I screech. “Take her back. Take her back, right the fuck now.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Max says but I can’t take my eyes off the girl, who’s eyes appear to be turning gleeful at every word the stupid man utters. She knows me. And I know her.

“I am not being a drama queen,” I hiss.

Nikita taps my arm, grabbing my attention. “ You kind of are .”

I point at the woman. “Do you know who that is?”

“Nope,” Max replies with a nonchalant shrug and Nikita just raises a blonde brow.

Urgh, God save me from ignorant men.

“That is Echo Quinn.” I just get blank faces. Fuck my life. “Only daughter of Rory Quinn, leader of the fucking Irish Mob.”

Nikita snorts before turning and heading to the basement.

I turn to Max who looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“Angel, Rory Quinn doesn’t have a daughter.”

“Yes, he does. It’s just not well known.”

Max raises one of his dark eyebrows. “And how do you know she exists?”

I shut my mouth because I know he will definitely not like my answer.

“Angel,” he says, my name a warning.

“Fine,” I say on a sigh. “I may or may not have been intimate with Echo’s brothers and met her when I stayed at their house one summer.”

Max’s face drops. “The fuck?”

“It was years ago, before I knew you.” I’d been about twenty-three and medical school had been kicking my ass, so I took a vacation in the summer and met the identical twins, Conor and Cillian. I’d always had a soft spot for an Irish accent, so I went and spent a summer across the pond in the gorgeous hills and towns of Ireland and bumped into those two in a small pub and spent a rather wild week with them in their country house.

Fingers grip my chin sharply.

“Are you reminiscing, love?” Max asks, a lethal bite to his words.

There’s no point lying to him. He’s like a fucking human lie detector. “Yes.”

His nostrils widen and his tongue darts out between his plump lips. My heart lurches in my chest as he pushes me backwards. I don’t stop until my knees hit the couch and I fall back onto the cushions. Max crowds me, not stopping until he’s straddling my thighs. Fuck. He looks so beautiful there, like a warrior from hell, all dark and brooding, marked with blood.

My dick is painfully hard, and a groan leaves me as his hips nestle against mine.

“I need to fix your nose,” I say, my words a little breathless.

He leans forwards and sinks his teeth into my bottom lip. I gasp, feeling the sting all the way to my balls.

“Do you want to cause me pain?” he asks, a devious flash in his dark eyes.

“No.” Which is true. I don’t like causing people pain. Feeling pain on the other hand… It's like catnip to me.

His grin widens but he leans back a bit. “Go ahead, doc. Make me all better.”

“I dunno,” I say with a smile. “I like the crookedness. Makes you look more… rugged.”

“Absolutely not,” he hisses. “Fix my fucking nose.”

“Now who’s the drama queen?”

“Fuck you.”

“If I’m lucky.” I place my fingers either side of his nose. There’s already a lot of swelling so this is probably gonna hurt a lot. “On the count of three. Okay?

“Whatever you say, love.”

“Deep breath. One. Two. Th—” I snap the joint of his nose back into place before I finish the count. He knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier.

“Jesus. Fuck!” He pulls his head back from me and I can see that it’s pretty straight. I won’t know for a few days until the swelling goes down, but I think he’s going to be back to his handsome self in no time at all.

He shakes off the pain and turns his attention back to me. It’s intense. Being the sole focus of this man. Maxim Volkov is extreme. In everything he does. Whether it’s torturing someone, making a business deal or fucking me, his attention is always solely focussed on that one thing. It’s like you can’t escape, you’re trapped in his gaze, and you know you should run, you feel the fear, but you don’t care because, for one brief second, it’s like looking at the sun. It’s not going to do you any good, but you can’t help it. You look anyway and you wait for the pain to follow because it’s one hundred percent fucking worth it.

His hand wraps around my throat, and I know he’s feeling how fast my heart is racing. It’s one of his kinks. To know how he makes the other person feel. Even when he’s torturing someone, you can hear the wicked beep of the heart monitor humming in the background so he can monitor his victim. I find it fucking hot, I shouldn’t, but Max is my drug. Everything he does turns me on.

I reach out to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. The blood from his nose has seeped through onto his chest and streaks of it cover his tattoos. I spread his shirt wide, and I can feel my pulse hammering against his hand. Blood rushes through my ears as I lean forward, loving how Max’s eyes widen with hunger.

My tongue darts out, sweeping across his pec and over his nipple. The metallic tang of his blood hits my tongue along with the dark, musky taste of his sweat. It’s all him and I need more.

His hand moves to the back of my head, holding me in place as I swirl and lick my tongue across his skin.

“Angel,” he groans. “My sweet, sweet angel.” He tightens his hand in my hair and yanks my head back. “Are you ready for me?”

I nod. I’m always ready for him.

He presses a soft kiss against my lips, and I know it’ll be the last one I receive for a while. Then he lets go of me and stands. He looks down at me like a king surveying his treasures and I fucking preen.

“Strip,” he commands, and I instantly obey. I stand on shaky legs and strip out of my clothes until I’m standing there naked, my dick pointing skyward, and my breaths coming unsteadily.

His smile is wide and feral as he twirls his finger. I turn around, facing the couch and wait. I can feel him behind me, his breaths caressing the back of my neck, the heat of his body reaching my back.

We stay like for a moment and the anticipation builds, suspending us in time for the briefest of moments.

The calm before the storm.

The quiet before the madness.

A growl rips through the air and then his hands are everywhere. Pushing me. Slapping me. Forcing me to my knees on the couch. Thrusting my head down so my ass ends up in the air.

He presses against me, the soft material of his trousers brushing against my sensitive skin.

His hands hit my ass and pull my cheeks apart.

“What a fucking sight,” Maxim groans. He leans forwards and his tongue swipes up my taint and over my hole.

“Stop teasing me,” I snap. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Again, his tongue moves slowly over my hole and I’m about ready to scream. This isn’t what I want.

“Give me what I want, Maxim. Or I’ll find someone who will. Perhaps the Quinn boys would be up for a repeat.”

A sudden sting radiates across my cheek and it fucking smarts .

“Okay, love. You want it rough?” A sound of a zipper. “Be careful what you wish for.”

The head of his cock presses against my entrance and the obscene sound of him spitting against my hole fills the room.

At least he’s not taking me completely dry.

The burn is unreal as he thrusts into me, and I try not to clench but the pain hurts so good. A gasp wrenches itself from my throat as he finally bottoms out and his hand wraps around the back of my neck, his fingers resting on my pulse point.

A hum of satisfaction leaves his mouth as my pulse flutters beneath his fingertips.

“Yes, Angel. Such a good little doll for me.”

Lust sends sparks all the way to my balls at his dirty words.

Yes, Maxim. Fucking use me.

He doesn’t even start slow, the pace intense, right from the off. The room fills with the sound of grunts and groans and growls as he punishes my ass.

A low whine falls from my lips as he hits the perfect spot, sending waves of pleasure through me. Heat coils at the base of my spine and I’m close. So fucking close.

I wrap my fingers around his hand at the back of my neck and squeeze. I need more to get me there, to take me over the edge. He gets my hint, knowing exactly what I need. He moves his hand to the front of my throat and digs his fingers into my skin. The pressure cuts off my airway and everything goes into overdrive. My heart races as it surges into survival mode.

“Harder,” I manage to gasp out.

“Jesus,” Maxim says as his breaths turn ragged and his hips judder.

Lightning fizzles along my nerves, my balls tighten, black spots dance in my vision. Everything tightens, coils, twists…

Then hits like a motherfucking tsunami.

A hoarse cry rips from my throat as my cock shoots ropes of cum, completely untouched. My body spasms, clenches and I feel Maxim pulse deep inside me.

“Holy fuck, Angel,” he huffs against the back of my neck, and I feel his smile stretch wide against my skin. “You’re so fucking hot.”

I laugh and collapse beneath him. His softening cock slips out of me, and I feel his cum drip out of my hole.

“Mmm,” he hums as he scoops it up and pushes it back inside me. “That’s better.”

“So possessive.”

He scoops me into his arms, bridal style, and grins down at me. “Only with you, love.”