Chapter 2

2

Maxim

She is a sneaky, little kitten, this one.

Normally liars make me very angry, but liars don’t usually look like this Whitney.

Don’t usually have eyes that make my stomach feel very odd.

With a low grumble, I rub the area, but it does not dissipate.

Instead of anger, I find I am curious. To know what is compelling her to lie. To know why she has come in here playing dress-up asking to use the phone. I know little of young girls, but I suspect they do not go places with nearly dead phones. There is intelligence in Whitney’s answers, the challenge of her eyes, and I do not think she would be so stupid to leave her home dressed in such a way without the safety net of a phone. Or a man to protect her.

A roar builds in my throat so suddenly, it rocks me forward onto my toes.

“Do you have a man?”

I growl the question, stomping toward her. Moving in her direction the way I move toward an opponent. With strict purpose. But I do not want to bloody this girl. I want to…

I want to do things I have never been tempted to do before.

Things I cannot do tonight of all nights.

“N-no,” she whispers, backing up two paces. “No man. Not technically.”

I’ve almost reached her now and my cock is throbbing. Raging in my shorts. What has she done to me, this sneaky little kitten? “What does that mean? You don’t technically have a man? This makes no sense.”

“Well.” Her tits are taunting me, straining in the neckline of her dress. I want to yank down the bodice and pinch them. Suck them. “There is a man who w-wants to marry me.”

“Stop backing away from me, kotik. You will fall in those shoes.” I snap, grabbing her elbow, marveling at the softness of her arm, brushing my thumb through the crook with a harsh, amazed sound. “And nyet, you will not marry such a fool.”

She seems to be having a hard time breathing. Is it because I’m standing so close, forcing her to look up at me? Does she also feel these…urges? “Why is he a fool?”

“You said he wants to marry you. Yet he has not made it happen?” I run my palms up the outsides of her arms, across her shoulders and into her honey-colored hair. I can’t seem to stop touching her, though I should be shot for doing so with filth-covered hands. “I would not be so complacent, Whitney.”

A shudder goes through her when I say her name.

So I say it again. “Whitney.”

And again. “Whitney.”

“Stop,” she whispers, swaying closer. “You’re distracting me.”

“From what?”

I rub my thumb along the seam of her lips and her eyes turn unfocused. “My…mission.”

Ah. Now we are getting somewhere. “What is this mission?”

She shakes herself. “To use your phone. Broken down car, remember?”

“Hmm.” I am eager to find out how she feels in my arms, so I pick her up and cradle her like a baby, enjoying the way her softness gives against my muscles. She stares up at me, stunned, but doesn’t try to escape. This pleases me. “I will bring you to use the phone.”

“Uh…thank—thank you.”

I carry Whitney to the back office, mentally listing other ways to hold her. I could put her over my shoulder, give her a piggy-back ride. Or she could put her legs around my waist, her adorable little wrists locked behind my neck.

My balls nearly spill a month’s worth of seed at that thought.

At the image it paints in my mind.

How easy it would be to wedge my cock inside of her in such a position.

Would her beautiful face screw up with pain or would she moan, close her eyes?

Ride me.

I realize I’ve stopped halfway to the office, my chest heaving with labored breaths.

“Everything okay, big guy?”

“No. I am worried what I will do if I get you in back room.”

Her swallow is loud, as if she is nervous, but I see her nipples have turned to tempting pebbles. Are females always so confusing? “Oh.”

“I am a fighter, kotik. There is an important contest tomorrow. We don’t allow any…spilling beforehand. Depriving oneself creates an edge. An anger.”

She seems almost relieved at my explanation.

The tension in her tiny shoulders ebbs.

“We could just…um…kiss?”

Air rifles in and out of my nose. Is she trying to make me come? “You want to kiss me?”

Her smile is lopsided. “Why start asking questions now? You’ve already picked me up without permission like a caveman.”

“You are tiny little thing,” I rasp. “I wanted to cradle you.”

For some reason, her features soften at that. “You don’t spend much time around women, do you?”

I shrug. “They are around once in a while, but they do not have eyes that hurt my stomach. In truth, I don’t care enough to look at them.” I grunt, bundling her closer. “You…you will be major distraction, kotik. Bad for my career.”

She purses her lips. “Oops.”

I hear a strange sound and glance around for signs of a threat.

Then I realize it’s the sound of my laughter.

Whitney smiles up at me and my heart jams painfully.

With a wrench lodged in my throat, I continue stomping toward the back office. “I will murder this man who wants to marry you!” I roar.

When we reach the office, I don’t know what to do with her. She said kissing. Does that mean I will be on top of her? On the resting couch? I don’t think that would be wise if I want to keep my seed. No, definitely not. With her pinned underneath me, I would ejaculate immediately.

Neither one of us pretends she actually needs to use the phone. But I still don’t know why she came here. What she needs from me. I want to question her further and determine her game, but I doubt I would be able to focus on anything knowing she’s willing to kiss me.

Whitney must notice my indecision, because she pats my shoulder. “Could you maybe sit down?” She glances around. “In that chair.”

It is amusing that this fragile girl seeks to direct me.

It is alarming how quickly I obey her.

I settle her carefully on her feet and sit down in the overstuffed armchair, stretching my arms out on the rests, though my hands dangle well over the edges. I didn’t bother to turn the lamp on in the office, so Whitney is backed by the halogens from the main floor, rimming her in light like an angel, and my chest starts to lift up and shudder down, my palms sweating. I’m very aware that I could rip off her tight, flimsy red dress with a swipe of my pinky.

I make a rough sound when she steps between my outstretched thighs and settles her hands on my shoulders. Tentatively. This has brought her tits even closer, those tiny buds straining so close to my face, I might live up to my nickname and go mad. This is when I notice her smell. Fresh fruit. Cantaloupe, grapes, pineapple. It imprints on my senses forever.

“I guess I’ll just go for it, then,” she whispers, lowering her face to mine.

My fingers dig into the arm rests.

Her soft, painted mouth touches mine and she sips at my upper lip. Feather light. My lower lip is given the same exquisite treatment. She teases my mouth so softly, but my cock reacts as if it is being suckled, standing straight up like a column in my shorts. I open my mouth to groan and she hesitates a second, before sliding in her tongue, lapping at mine like the kitten she is. And I can no longer let her explore.

I reach for her hips and drag her down into my lap, giving her no choice but to straddle me, though I am so much larger, her knees do not even reach the seat of the chair. Caught off guard, she loses her balance slightly and her tits land hard against my bare chest, her hair falling forward over one wide blue eye.

Beautiful. So beautiful it feels as if someone is sawing my windpipe in half. It is also obvious that whatever game Whitney came here to play, she is clearly very innocent.

She pushes up slightly, but the hem of her dress is caught between us, so the material pulls and out pop two luscious, little tits.

My hoarse moan is loud in the small office.

“We cannot let me spill, kotik.”

“Right. Right.” Whitney scrambles to pull up her neckline, but the dress is too short. She cannot accomplish the task without sacrificing the material covering her ass.

“See?” I rasp, reaching behind her yanking the hemline up and over her hips, baring her backside. “This is why pants are important, da?”

She stares at me with pink cheeks. Nods.

And then she slides closer in my lap…and her warm pussy pins my cock to my belly.

Every nerve ending from my head to my toes twists into tight knots, my balls wrenching up and digging into my lower body. Ordering me to ease the pain. But I can’t. I can’t.

I drop my head back and pant up at the ceiling.

Whitney’s face appears over mine, her lips brushing my mouth and there is no more gentleness after that. I clutch her young ass in my hands and urge her to hump me through my shorts. And…oh God. One rub of her pussy and I almost shout the ceiling down.

It is wet.

I can feel the moisture through my shorts.

This beautiful girl is attracted to me, but I don’t have time to find that shocking. Or surmise why she is not terrified, does not recoil from me like everyone else. No, I have no time to speculate because she moans, the sound long and stuttered, then her hips start to rifle up and down, dragging her sex all over mine, her tiny ass muscles flexing in my palms.

Blyad! This is very dangerous. But her excited breaths make me crazy. Her arousal is my responsibility and I know I will not be able to stop this torture until hers is over.

“Maxim,” she sobs against my lips. “What is happening?”

I want to remind the sneaky kitten she never asked my name. But instead, I rear up and capture her tricky mouth, brutalizing it with mine, suctioning her into thorough, invading kisses until her fingernails are buried in my shoulders. My cock is a vessel of pain and agony at this point but she rides it, grinds on it, as if there will be no consequences.

“Are you going to come on it, little kotik?”

“Y-yes.” Her eyes glaze over. “Oh God. I can’t stop rubbing…”

“I am allowing this torture, Whitney,” I say through my teeth. “Because I know how rough I will be on you tomorrow. As soon as my fight ends, I will fuck you full of my seed.”

“Only if you win,” she gasps.

My eyebrow goes up at that. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Her forehead grinds into my shoulder, her hips pumping hot and fast. “Otherwise I have to marry Banner.”

The bellow that leaves my mouth shakes the glass of the office window.

Rage like I’ve never known boils up like oil, black filtering into my vision.

My chest is going to cave in. My muscles are going to leap from my flesh.

Whitney is trying to scramble off my lap, but I catch her waist and lunge to my feet. Two steps and I pin her down on the couch, dodging her flailing arms. “Explain yourself.”

I regret shouting when her eyes grow round and a little fearful. “My father b-b-bets on the fights and he lost. A bunch. And now he’s in debt. Banner promised to keep the loan sharks off my father’s back if I marry him.”

The veins in my neck twist, ready to pop. “Do you want to marry this svolach?”

“No.” The more violent parts of my rage slowly dissipate at her answer. “That’s why I came here. I thought…m-maybe…”

“What? That I would sample the pussy and want to buy it for myself?”

She slaps me across the face. Hard.

My ears actually ring.

Impressive.

I’m not used to tempering myself around women. I reside in a man’s world, a brutal one, and we speak plainly. Crudely, even, at times. On top of that, there is the matter of my pride. It has been damaged by the proof she seduced me with ulterior motives.

Did she truly want me at all?

“If you talk to me like that, you are no better than him,” she hisses, taking advantage of my shock to launch herself past me, bounding off the couch and stomping for the door. “Forget it. I’ll be better off with the devil I know.”

“You will not take another step away from me, Whitney!”

She takes another step. Several, actually.

I catch up to her halfway across the main floor, wrapping an arm around her middle and hauling her off the floor. With her back against my chest, she struggles in mid-air, and I do not like it. She is not supposed to fight me. Or be angry with me.

Why was I not more sensitive with my words?

“You will marry no one but me, kotik,” I growl in her ear. “He will not last a round with you on the line. That is a vow.”

“Let me go.”

There are tears in her voice.

They rip at my heart like metal claws.

“Whitney, I have made you sad now, too? First sexy. Then angry. Now crying.” Agony leaves holes in my gut. “I am not good with this kind of thing. I only know I will break Banner’s face tomorrow and you will be mine. Never his!”

At least she has stopped struggling.

Cautiously, I set her down, bracing for another impressive slap.

“I just wanted to avoid one husband,” she says, tossing her hair and looking back at me over her shoulder. “I never said I wanted another.”

“Details, details. You are mine.”

I reach for her, but she steps out of my grasp. “We’ll see.”

I’m left stunned and ravaged as she struts toward the door and pushes out into the night. I am also determined. Violently so.

My fists curl into unbreakable stones at my side.

Banner will regret the day he coveted what’s mine.

Whitney.