Chapter 5

5

Whitney

It’s weird that Maxim hasn’t tried to sleep with me again since last night.

Mostly because he has a pretty noticeable erection. At all times.

Instead of touching me like I sense he wants to do, he tells me more stories about Russia on the way to my apartment. I’m kind of hoping Scout will magically be there, but she isn’t. So I quickly pack a suitcase of essentials, including the script for my upcoming audition, before Maxim quickly loads me back into his SUV, as if someone is going to swoop in and steal me away. Although, after last night, that kind of thing doesn’t sound unrealistic anymore.

It’s almost time for my phone call with Scout when we get back to Maxim’s house. I rush through a shower, blow out my hair and put on a light, pink dress that brushes the tops of my thighs. Now I pace nervously, phone in hand. Maxim arrives from his own shower smelling fresh and masculine and minty…and commences pacing behind me.

At one o’clock on the dot, the phone rings.

With a sucked in breath, I answer. “Scout. Are you okay? Where are you?”

“Me? Are you okay? The Madman himself carried you out of the arena after giving Banner a concussion and no one has seen you since!”

“I’m fine! This call isn’t about me!”

“It can be about you sometimes, Whit.”

I roll my eyes, but they’re full of moisture, because I miss my sister like hell. We haven’t spent a day apart since we were kids and all of a sudden, it feels like we’re on two separate planets. “Just tell me what’s going on. Is Easton Brawn with you now?”

She sounds funny when she answers. “Yes.”

In other words, she can’t speak freely. This is why I need to see her live and in person.

“Has he hurt you?”

“No.”

“Are you allowed to leave?”

“Hard no.”

“I’m in a similar situation,” I say carefully, cutting a look toward Maxim. “I need to see you. Soon. Will you try and convince Easton?”

“Of course I will.” She sniffs. “I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

“I had sex, Whit,” she whispers dramatically.

In the background, I hear a very male, very exasperated sigh.

“Um. Me too,” I say, heat climbing my neck. “We’ll have to compare notes soon.”

“Okay. Bye for now.”

“Bye Scout.”

When I hang up the phone, I find Maxim leaning against the nearby couch, arms crossed. “You will compare notes. What does this mean, Whitney? You will speak to her about the way we have sex? Details and such?”

I stutter through an explanation. “We…I mean, yes. We tell each other everything. This won’t be any different.”

“It is different.”

“Why?”

A muscle leaps in his jaw. “I don’t want her to know I fucked you like a wild animal your first time. She might convince you I am not good man. Make you leave me.”

“Maxim…” I rear back in confusion. “Is that why you haven’t touched me again?”

He grunts. Looks down at the floor.

Or whatever amount of the floor he can see around his erection. It’s still going strong.

“I loved what we did,” I say, going toward him. “A lot.”

“Your pussy is all red and puffy, kotik. I don’t like seeing your pain and knowing I am responsible. Pain is what I deliver to men. Opponents. Not my sweet girl.”

I stop in front of Maxim and lock my arms behind his neck. “Maxim, you are…large. I was a virgin. I don’t think there was any way around it. Throw in your month-long sabbatical…”

“I also jacked off on you while you were sleeping last night.”

“Oh.” God help me, I just want to laugh. “And now you feel guilty?”

Another grunt. But this time he wraps his arms around my waist and yanks me up against his hard body, inhaling with gusto in the crook of my neck. “I am very worried I will fuck this up. Make you angry or sad.”

I could fall in love with this man.

Whoa.

Deep breaths. “I think the fact that you’re worrying means everything will be all right,” I whisper, lifting up on my toes to press our mouths together. Maxim groans, his tongue demanding entry to my mouth, his hands already sliding up beneath the back of my dress to capture my bottom, his blunt fingertips exploring the line of my G-string. Between us, his hard-on extends, curving behind the zipper of his jeans, and I rub my belly against it, producing a harsh, panting sound from his mouth. “Can Daddy come out to play?”

“Yes, little kitten—” His cell phone starts to ring in his pocket. “Fuck.”

“You should answer,” I murmur, kissing his chiseled jaw. “It could be about Scout.”

“No,” he says, looking at the screen. “Is my manager. He has been trying to reach me all morning.”

“Why didn’t you take the call?”

Maxim looks at me like I’m crazy. “I was busy thinking about you, kotik.”

He starts to toss the phone aside, but I stop him. “This could also be important. Especially after a big win.” I cut off his protests with a slow, meandering kiss. “Come find me when you’re done.”

His chest shudders up and down. “I will be very quick.”

I can feel his gaze on me until I turn the corner out of the room. As soon as I’m in the hallway, I let the hot shiver pass through me. Who knew my life could change so much in a matter of days? I met a man who makes me feel…happy. Safe. Confident. Sexy. Very sexy. And my sister is all right for now. I’m not going to rest until I confirm in person, but I know her voice and she’s not hurt or scared. Now all I have to focus on is my acting audition at the end of this week. If I do well and get cast in the play, I’ll be able to afford a chunk of Scout’s tuition.

God knows my father won’t be able to pay it after the loss he sustained last night.

He’d put a fair bit of money on Banner.

Not to mention his second-born daughter.

Where is he today? And what about Banner? Is he angry?

Surely he won’t try to pursue me any more. Not now that Maxim made his intentions clear to the entire population. No. He definitely won’t.

Reassured, I head to the bedroom and take out my script, intending to practice my lines until Maxim can join me. But I’ve only scanned the first page when my MMA champion appears in the doorway. He licks the corner of his mouth when he sees me, his attention dropping briefly to the script.

“What is that?”

“I have an audition this week. A part in a play.”

“Yes, this is right. My kotik is an actress.” He glides into the room, fingers hooked in his belt loops. “I did some digging before the fight. But I should have known after you lied so convincingly about your broken down car.”

“Was I convincing? You didn’t seem to believe me.”

“You were good. It was just hard to believe I could be so lucky.”

“Oh,” I breathe, my skin prickling with awareness when he sits down beside me on the bed. “Do you want to run some lines with me? It’s only fair since you turned me into an MMA champion this morning.”

“Da,” he says, crowding closer. “I would like this.”

I press my lips together. “Okay. So I’m auditioning for the role of a teenage daughter. She’s kind of rebellious. In this scene, she’s arguing with her father about curfew.”

He arches a dark brow. “What is curfew?”

“Your deadline to return home at night. Say, after a party or a date.”

A grunt and a head bob tells me he understands.

I scoot closer until the outsides of our thighs are pressing together and I hold the folded script so we can both see the words. “I’ll start here. And these lines are yours.” I shift a little, getting into character, then I begin at the top. “Dad, what are you so worried about? It’s just a party with friends.”

Maxim leans in. “Your friends include boys.”

“And?”

“And I know how they think.”

I roll my eyes. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“Fine. I will.” Maxim pauses, swallows loud enough for me to hear. “They’re just thinking of ways to get up your tight-ass skirt.”

“Dad!”

“It’s true. All they want in life is you flat on your back, little girl.” For some reason those two words send a rush of wetness to my sex. Maxim’s voice grows rougher. “I was young once. Nothing about boys has changed.”

“Fine…” My fingers tighter around the script. “Let’s say I do end up flat on my back. What business is it of yours, Daddy?”

Maxim swallows a groan and rubs the heel of his hand against the bulge in his pants. “Everything is Daddy’s business when it comes to you.”

I cross my legs and toss my hair. “Not everything.”

“Oh yes, little girl.” Maxim reaches over and uncrosses my legs. “Everything.”

Heat spreads like a wildfire in my belly, my loins. “That’s not in the script.”

Maxim doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he stands and kneels in front of me. Thanks to the extra-high platform bed, this puts his mouth on level with the hem of my dress. “I know what will make these young boys less appealing. If your first tongue is an experienced one.” He flips up my dress and slides my knees apart. “Would you like that? Would you like to feel what a man can do with your little girl pussy?”

My fingers clutch the bedclothes, the muscles of my sex contracting. This role is like coming home, handing over control, knowing I’ll be cared for. “I-I don’t know, Daddy,” I whine, writhing on the soft comforter.

“These legs are spread pretty wide for someone who doesn’t know.” He thumbs my clit, nips the inside of my thigh with his teeth. “We can have our own parties right here, little girl. With your bedroom door locked tight. You don’t have to leave home to end up flat on your back.”

I’m already moaning the first time he licks me. He doesn’t bother to move aside the G-string. No, he uses it to his advantage. Taking the ultra-thin strap between his lips and dragging it side to side over my clit, pulling the string back and letting it snap down onto my sex. Over and over until my back is arched, my lower body twisting to escape to exquisite agony. “Oh. Oh. Oh! Please don’t stop.”

“Shhh,” he breathes, pressing a thick finger into my opening, rotating it slowly, teasing that coarse spot only he knows about or can find. “So very fucking tight, aren’t you?” He shakes his head, curses. “Can’t blame these boys for trying. But this is all Daddy’s.”

Lust pierces my belly like an arrow and I spin into a climax.

My fingers tear at the comforter, eyes almost too blind to make out the ceiling. Maxim laps at me feverishly, his thumb moving in quick strokes on top of my clit. His shoulders are a beautiful rippling testament to masculinity, his dark head buried between my thighs and all I can do is gasp for air, sobbing brokenly as my intimate muscles contract and release, dampness streaking down my thighs, between the cheeks of my backside.

I’m struggling for oxygen, dew coating my forehead, satisfied beyond belief.

Until Maxim stands to his full height at the bottom of the bed and licks me off his lips crudely, his eyes black with hunger, and another wave of longing travels through me, sparking my nerve endings, curling my toes. “You open legs for Daddy, da?” Maxim unzips his jeans with a deft hand, reaches in and grips himself. “Now this becomes your business.”

He yanks me closer until my hips are almost falling off the edge of the bed and he pins me there with my legs wide open, sliding his thick shaft between my folds, over my still-buzzing clit and I just have to lay there and take it, panting as he teases me, exploits my arousal, drives it back to a fever pitch, mewling sounds breaking past my lips. I feel small and coveted, like a favorite plaything, my much larger master amusing himself with me. And when he spears into my opening, filling me with a throaty moan, I become essential to him.

The veins in his neck and shoulders stand out, the muscles of his biceps and abdomen straining. Instinctively, I know he is trying not to orgasm too soon and that makes me feel powerful even though I’m the one being dominated.

Maxim loops his arms beneath my legs and falls forward, bringing my knees up to my shoulders, positioning his shaft even deeper inside of me. A shudder wracks him and he starts to thrust slowly, as if savoring every entry and exit, his breath sawing in and out of his throat.

His mouth moves over mine in a long, wet kiss, his lips trailing down to suck the sensitive skin of my throat, his tongue swirling in the hollow. “Angels made you, kotik. But I swear your pussy was designed by the devil.” His hips start to move faster, lust making his eyes feverish, bright. “Once you have it, you will spend rest of life craving more. Hard and aching. I already want it again.”

“It’s yours,” I whisper, running my palms up and down his flexing back. “Yours as many times as you need.”

With a groan, he falls forward and fucks me in earnest, frenzied like last night.

His snarls and grunts make beautiful masculine music against my ear, his hips slapping down against mine, his tight ball sack pressing to my bottom with every downward stroke. That fighter’s body of his is a heavy wall of muscle that gives no quarter, anchoring me to the mattress while he takes his pleasure, one of his hands coming up to wrap around my throat.

“Wet little kitten,” he grits out. “You squeeze me too tight. You make me fucking crazy.”

My intimate muscles begin to tighten again, bearing down so I can feel every ridge of his sex traveling up and back inside me. “But I just want to please you.”

His grip grows stricter around my neck and I love it. I love that I’m being punished for being too good, too tempting. I’m both an object of misery and a conduit to paradise. Praised and chastised, all at the same time. “You are greedy for my come,” he rasps. “Is that why you choke my cock, little girl? You want to have Daddy’s baby?”

A moan originates from deep inside me, raw and honest. It doesn’t even sound like me when it passes my lips. “Yes.”

Maxim bares his teeth, his features screwing up in a mask of pain. He buries that face in the curve of my neck and latches onto my earlobe, biting and sucking. “It was only matter of time once you matured and started tempting Daddy’s big dick.” His accent is the thickest I’ve heard it, slurred and horny and deep. “Someone was going to put my hot little girl flat on back. Had to make sure was me, da?”

I’m shaking.

The nerve endings in my feminine flesh are gathering together, preparing to disperse like a starburst, and I cry out, the sound cut off by the fighter’s grip around my throat.

“This is just for me, kotik. Otherwise legs stay closed.”

I nod, stutter through an agreement, my thighs beginning to tremble.

Maxim presses down more, bringing my knees up to my ears, his mighty hips bucking hard enough to make me scream. Struggle just a little. As much as I can beneath an unmovable object. Because the tide that rises is so swift, it sweeps me off the rocks and drags me out to sea and I sob and sob, the constrictions of my sex so intense they’re almost painful. The relief is not, though. It’s all-encompassing. It rewards me with a total slackening of my muscles. And all I can do is cling to my fighter’s heaving shoulders as he hits a jagged peak, hoarse calls of my name filling the room, violent tremors holding him in their grip.

Warm, sticky liquid squelches between us, spilling out onto my butt and thighs, the bedclothes. Just like last night, he seems to find a reserve of lust, deep within himself, and just when I think it’s over, he’s battering into me once again, his head thrown back to curse at the ceiling. Until finally he’s emptied himself and his heavy body goes boneless on top of mine, both of us sucking air into our lungs, sweat slicking every inch of our skin.

Maxim lifts his head and looks down at me, my heart swelling over the love in his eyes.

There’s so much affection and care radiating down at me that I’m completely unprepared for the thunderous frown that gathers on his face.

“Hold on, Whitney. I just think of something.” He glances over at the discarded script. “Do you kiss boys in this play?”