Chapter 4

4

Maxim

Ido not like any men around my Whitney.

I never realized how many of them are around. The trainers that gape at us when I carry her out of the room wrapped in a blanket. My manager. Reporters. My driver. All of them want to speak with me, congratulate me, and if I had two free hands, they would surely be wrapped around necks. Can they not see I have no need of their congratulations?

The only prize I will ever need is trying to hide her beautiful face in my chest.

“We go home now, kotik. I will feed you and put you to bed.”

“Maxim.” She ducks her face to hide it from a photographer and I give the man a look that shrivels his balls. On one hand, I enjoy that my relationship with Whitney will be publicized worldwide, so that everyone knows she belongs to me. Period. On the other hand, I am very, very upset by her discomfort. This is why she will go to my home and remain there indefinitely. Until I figure out how to proceed with these new feelings. “Maxim,” she says into my chest. “We have to talk. It’s important.”

“Yes, Whitney.” I hold her closer. “We are almost to the car.”

She nods, but there’s a furrow between her brows.

“Daddy” she calls me.

I find I like this very much.

My instinct is to take care of her. It has been that way since she came to the training facility and a voice whispered cradle her in the back of my head. My balls are empty, for now, and still I have these intense urges to satisfy her in other ways. Soothe her in a bath, rub her back until she is asleep, feed her ice cream, brush her hair. I don’t even know if I own a brush suitable for a woman’s hair, but they must be available for purchase somewhere.

Yet another man holds the door open to the back entrance of the arena and I duck down, turn sideways and go slowly through the opening, to make sure Whitney doesn’t get a bump. My black SUV is there, idling, and I place her in the back, climbing in after her.

Immense relief slackens my muscles when we are locked inside the car and moving. Away from people. Toward a home where we will be alone.

No eyes. No men looking at my kotik.

I pull Whitney onto my lap and open the blanket a little, so I can look at her sweet, supple body. I tug down the neckline of her white dress until her tits are nearly out. They jiggle with every bump in the road and my cock grows stiff again.

“Yes. You will be major distraction,” I sigh, trailing a finger over her nipples. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

She struggles to sit up in my lap. “My sister. They took her during the fight.”

It is not news to me that Whitney has a sister. When she left the training gym last night, I hired an investigator to find out as much as I could about her. Such as her address, full name, siblings, job. “Who took her?”

“Easton Brawn.” She looks fearful and I don’t like it. She should never be fearful with me around. “His men. They just swooped in a-and grabbed her.”

“Easton Brawn?” This makes me frown. He is not directly my boss. No man is my boss. But he is part owner of the federation for which I fight. There is much mystery surrounding Brawn, but there is no question that he is a formidable figure. “She has not met him before?”

“No. Definitely not. Scout would have told me.” She worries her lip with her teeth. “She said she would call and she hasn’t. Maybe that means she can’t. Or he won’t let her. Or—”

“Okay.” I stroke her hair comfortingly. It is so soft. I should not have wrapped it so tightly in my fist before, but I could not help it. “I will make calls and find out what happened. I will make sure your sister is all right.”

She exhales in a rush. “You will?”

“Of course. Will that make you smile, kotik?”

Her head nods slowly. “I want to see her, too. I’m…she’s my best friend. We’re never apart. I have to see for myself that she’s okay.”

A rumble forms in my chest. “I do not like idea of you around Easton Brawn.”

Her spine straightens. “But it’s okay for my sister to be around him?”

I consider this a moment. “Yes.”

Whitney’s mouth falls open. “What is the logic there?”

“You are mine. You belong to me. It is reasonable that I have stronger need to protect.”

Her expression is incredulous. “But if he hurts Scout, that will hurt me. Don’t you see the domino effect, Maxim?”

Frustrated with these complications, I grunt, tug her head to my chest. “All I want is to take you home, make you warm and cuddle you, Whitney.”

She takes a breath, as if to center herself. “I will never be happy. Not completely. Until I am face to face with my sister. Do you understand, Maxim?”

A burn starts in my chest at the idea of her being unhappy in my care. No, this is not an option. She will smile at all times or I will be a shell of a man. “I will make calls. I will find a way for you and your sister to meet.”

Her little fist curls in my shirt. “Thank you.”

I rock her side to side. “Might take little time. Brawn makes himself very inaccessible. But I will get it done for you. I will make you smile.”

Her fingers draw circles on my chest. “I don’t know why they call you ‘The Madman.’ You’re mean when necessary, but you’re also a big sweetie.”

I tilt her chin up so she can see the gravity in my eyes. “If you want to know why I am called ‘The Madman,’ put yourself in danger or try and leave me. You will find out then.”

* * *

My home wasincomplete without her.

That is obvious from the moment we step in the door and rightness clicks into place in the center of my chest. Like a key turning in a lock.

I follow Whitney room to room as she explores, always the curious kitten.

I make note of the parts of my home that please her the most. The movie theater. The hot tub on my bedroom balcony, which I usually use to soothe sore muscles, but now I can only ponder fucking her in it. She doesn’t spend a lot of time in the kitchen, leading me to believe she does not cook much. And I must admit that pleases me. I would rather my chef, Gloria, do the cooking so Whitney has more time for me.

“We will go to your apartment tomorrow and gather your things,” I say, coming up behind her on the balcony and kissing the back of her neck. “This is your home now.”

Her swallow reaches my ears. “But…this is crazy, right? We only met last night.”

Immediately, my heart starts to sprint. “You said you were mine, kotik. You said you would give me babies.” I tug her ass into my lap, fitting my erection to her backside. “You came to me a virgin and called me your Daddy.”

She lets out a shaky breath, leans back against me. “I know. I meant those things. Of course I did. I’m just used to being independent.”

“No longer.”

A laugh puffs from her mouth. “You can’t just say that and make it so.”

Bolts of panic, frustration get stuck in my throat.

I will find a way to bring my Whitney her sister. That will please her and she will stop being conflicted about giving everything up to come live with me forever.

It relieves me to have a goal. A victory to work towards.

And I must get started on it immediately. I will not stand on shaky ground where Whitney is concerned. She is the most important part of my life now and I must keep her.

At all costs.

“Come, kotik.” I lift her into my arms and reenter the house. “Are you hungry?”

“No.” She yawns adorably and my heart flops over. “Just sleepy.”

Yes, she would be. I was very rough earlier when I fucked her.

Fucked her wet, eager little pussy and left my seed inside.

My breath grows short at the vivid memory, my cock hoisting higher in my shorts. I would give anything to fuck her again right now, in our bed, but I need to do the right thing and let her sleep. Also this way I can start tracking down the sister.

Gently, I set down Whitney on her feet at the foot of our bed and undress her. She has been stripped down to the tiny strings she calls underwear when she begins to nod off, her head lolling against my shoulder. With my heart in my throat, I lay Whitney down in our bed and she rolls onto her stomach, falling asleep immediately, her breathing even and deep.

I can’t stop my gaze from drifting down her back, to her two perfect buns, smooth mounds rising up among the white sheets.

Her knee rises slightly in sleep and the lips of her pussy become visible.

A shudder wracks me.

She is naked in my bed.

Where I sleep.

Surely I can’t be expected to withstand this level of need without satisfying it.

Breathing hard, I shove my shorts down to my knees and fist my cock. Her voice echoes inside my head, calling me Daddy while I conquered her pussy from behind. And I begin to stroke. My teeth bite into my lip hard and draw blood so I won’t groan and wake my sleeping kitten. She is so sexy, her pussy red from my savage treatment earlier, her ass cheeks two plump, little handfuls. Daddy, she calls me. Daddy. Daddy.

An image of her in a cotton candy pink dress bouncing on my lap fills my mind.

Her pigtails wrapped in my fists.

It’s unexpected how much this vision affects me, but it does. It cranks my arousal to the highest setting, my hand jacking up and down my steel faster, faster.

And I come all over her tight, young ass, growls of bliss trapped in my chest.

Wiping the sweat from my upper lip, I decide to leave my spend there. Right where it belongs. And I leave the room determined to fulfill my Whitney’s wishes.

* * *

It is a verylong night for me.

Whitney lives up to her kitten nickname, rubbing and purring all over me. Nuzzling her face into my throat and tucking her little hands up beneath my T-shirt. I consider many, many times holding her down and shoving my cock as deep as she can take it, but the redness of her pussy stops me. Truth be told, as the minutes tick by and her sore coloring does not go away, and Whitney’s exhaustion remains obvious, I become appalled by my behavior.

This girl is barely half my size and I did not employ any gentleness.

She seemed satisfied afterward, but I could have hurt her. Badly.

My mouth dries up at the thought. Shame clogs my throat.

I decide to get out of bed early and punish myself downstairs in my gym. Maybe if I exhaust myself, my cock will cease to stand straight up, seeking my kitten’s pussy. Before the sun comes up, I have sweat through my T-shirt running, jumping rope and pummeling the punching bag.

When I have finally managed to tire myself and my erection starts to wane, Whitney walks into the gym in one of my T-shirts and my dick fires back up into the ready position.

“Morning,” she murmurs, pushing her mussed honey hair out of her eyes. “You are working out the morning after a fight?”

“Yes,” I rasp, marveling over the way the sun lights up her blue eyes. “Did you sleep well, kotik, or should I buy new bed?”

“No need for that,” she giggles. “I slept better than I have in a long time.”

“Oh.” Pride floods my chest. “Good.”

She chews her lip. “Did you make any calls about Scout?”

“Yes. I am in contact with a man in Brawn’s inner circle.” I worry about telling her the next part. “He tells me that Easton has brought your sister to his home. She is in no danger, he says, but he is not willing to grant this meeting yet.”

“Grant this meeting?” She shoves my T-shirt sleeves up to her elbows, but they slide back down and I try not to sigh over her cuteness. That might not prove wise when she’s irritable. “Who does he think he is?”

I hold up a hand. “Let me finish. There will be a phone call.” I glance at the clock on the wall. “Your sister will be allowed to call at one o’clock. Does this please you, Whitney?”

Her features soften. “Yes. For now. I still need to see her to be sure she’s all right, but a phone call is great.” She smiles at me. “Thank you, Maxim.”

The crowded feeling below my collar bones forces me to clear my throat. “You will trust me to arrange meeting with your sister soon?”

“Yes.”

I give a satisfied grunt. “Very good.”

Whitney saunters around the gym, trailing her finger over my equipment, and I have to restrain myself from stomping after her. Picking her up and crushing her to my chest. Rocking and kissing her. Making her tell me once again how well she slept.

“So are you going to show me some moves?” she asks, giving me a flirtatious look.

I cock my head. “You want to learn mixed martial arts?”

Her shoulder shrug is swallowed up in my borrowed T-shirt. “I’ve been watching it for a long time. Usually me and Scout sit in front of the television and pray to the gambling gods that my father doesn’t lose his bets. I guess, because of that, I’ve kind of resented the sport. But you changed that last night. You were so…powerful. I want to feel powerful, too.”

Her calling me powerful winds me. Humbles me. “I understand this desire.”

“You do?” She stops behind the bench press. “Weren’t you born powerful, though?”

“Nyet, kotik. I was born poor in Astrakhan. The fishing industry died and my father could no longer provide. I got started in shipbuilding when I was fourteen. And after the work day ended, there were fights. Illegal ones. I saw the money that could be made and knew it could support my family. So I started carrying heavy materials, lifting and learning to punch. To kick. Where the weak spots are located on a man’s body. When I joined those fights, I lost. But then I grew. And grew.”

She smiles. “And you started to win.”

“Yes. My first real win came last night, though.” Thump thump thump goes my heart. “First one to matter.”

Her lips part on a breath, the blue of her eyes softening.

We look at each other a long while across the gym, until I finally shake myself. “You asked to learn some moves. We will start at beginner speed.”

“Okay.”

“Get into a fighter’s stance. Like this.” I show her, turning at an angle and bending my knees slightly. “Fists up. Always guard your face.”

She nods earnestly, a concentration line between her light brows. “What now?”

“Now you learn jab. Stay on the balls of your feet. Always be moving.”

It is one of the greatest delights of my life, watching her dance around on her toes in my T-shirt. “What am I jabbing?” she asks.

“Me.”

“Where?”

I slap my stomach. “Right here. You won’t hurt me.”

Her left hand fires out and strikes in the center of my abdomen. I think. I barely feel a thing. But she sucks in a breath and pulls her hand back, cradling it to her chest. “Ow. Ow!”

The blood drains out of my face. “Whitney!”

“It’s okay,” she says with a wince, shaking out her hand. “I’m fine.”

“Let me see.” I pull her toward me and examine her knuckles, cursing the very day I was born when I find them red and swollen. “Ah, kotik. Baby. I am so sorry.” I kiss each of her knuckles. “I’ve never had a woman punch me before. I didn’t think. Forgive me.”

“I told you it’s fine.” She shakes her head at me. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

My stomach churns. I’ve only had my girl for one day and already I have made her sore and red in two places. “We go get some ice.”

“Maxim, I don’t need any. I promise.”

“Da?”

“Da.”

I blow out an unsteady breath. “Then I will show you other part of MMA?” Without waiting for an answer, I throw her up onto my shoulder so she is seated on her butt and facing forward, making her yelp. “You are in the octagon after a victory. Put your hands up in the air,” I say, walking her over to the mirror. “Flex your muscles like a champion.”

From her perch on my shoulder, she is laughing now, pulling back my sleeve and looking very proud of her puny bicep. I also pretend to be impressed, which makes her laugh harder.

“There you go. You are MMA fighter.”

I let her topple down into my arms and I like the way she looks up at me now through her eyelashes, her arms wrapped behind my neck. “Thank you for that,” she whispers. “I had no idea living with you was going to be so fun.”

“I am very fun guy,” I say, pretending to be offended.

She giggles again and lets me kiss her and my heart nearly pounds out of my chest.

Whitney is my heaven. I wasn’t even looking, but I found her.

And I am never leaving.

Neither is she.