Then suddenly, he pulled out—swift, practiced—and with a low groan, came in thick, hot spurts across my stomach. His body jerked above mine, muscles taut, breath ragged. I watched him through half-lidded eyes, dazed, trembling, completely undone.
He looked down at me, chest heaving, and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. “Fuck.”
His cum glistened on my skin, warm and sticky. I didn’t care. I was floating.
He rose, padded quietly into the bathroom, and came back with a towel. With surprising care, he wiped me off, his touch gentle, almost tender. Then he tossed the towel aside and collapsed beside me, breath still unsteady. Instead of keeping his distance, he slid his arm beneath me and pulled me into him—my bare chest pressing against his, my head settling above the steady thrum of his heart. We lay like that for a long, silentmoment, suspended between exhaustion and something that felt like peace.
Then, in a low, husky voice, he said, “I can’t kill him, Kira. But touching you? That’s off-limits. For him. For anyone.”
The words were simple. But from Maksym, they were a vow.
My chest tightened. I looked up at him, kissed him slow, sweet, like a thank-you I couldn’t put into words.
He kissed me back, lips still rough but somehow reverent.
He exhaled against my forehead. “How do you feel?”
I smiled. “I don’t even know my name right now. I just know I’ve never felt this good—and that every muscle in my body is officially useless.”
He whispered near my ear. “Tell me again how you’re not a porcelain doll. I barely even fucked you properly.”
“I swear, if I had an ounce of energy left, I’d climb you again,” I murmured, voice soft with exhaustion, the words slurring with sleep as my limbs melted against him.
He pulled me tighter against him, hand brushing up and down my spine in slow, lazy strokes. His touch was gentle, but his tone still all Maksym. “Rest up, Malaya. I’ll drag your wrecked little body to school later.”
My body was too blissed out to argue. I closed my eyes against the warmth of his chest, listening to his heartbeat as my lashes fluttered shut.
Wrapped in his arms, I let sleep take me.
Ididn’t know how long I’d been out before I heard his voice.
“Kira. Malaya. Time to wake up.”
His palm slid gently along my thigh, followed by a light squeeze.
I stirred, groggy, heavy-limbed, blinking as the memory of what had happened washed over me in waves. The soreness between my legs, the heat still humming under my skin—it all came rushing back. So did the ache in my chest. But it wasn’t pain. It was… want. A delicious, overwhelming afterglow.
“Academia awaits, princess. We both know you’re not going to hear a word your professor says, but let’s get you there anyway,” he said teasing.
I stretched with a quiet groan. “Screw the lecture. I’ve already been thoroughly educated.”
He chuckled. “Come on, clothes are dry. Up you go.”
The sweatpants and hoodie he’d given me earlier were folded on the chair. I changed, still sore in that good, aching way that made every movement feel like a secret reminder. By the time I joined him by the door, he was already dressed in black jeans, a tight gray tee and a leather jacket, keys in hand. There was no winning with that man—clothed or naked, he made it impossible to think straight.
He drove fast but smooth. One hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on my thigh, his thumb moving in slow, possessive circles. The window was cracked to let in the late afternoon air, but the heat between us lingered.
He was the one who broke the silence. “Next time I’m at the estate,” he said casually, eyes still on the road, “I’ll make sure to sneak in and see you.”
My stomach flipped instantly, stupid butterflies erupting in my chest, but I refused to let him see it that easily.
“And what makes you think I’ll want to see you?” I asked lightly.
A low chuckle escaped him.
“You were the one who pushed me,” he said. “And now that I’ve tasted you…” For a second he turned his head, shooting me a slow, knowing smirk, his tongue dragging briefly across his lower lip before his eyes returned to the road. Then he added more quietly, “you’ll see just how far I’m willing to go to get what I want. So good luck trying to keep me away.”
God. That was hot.
