Page 59 of Bound in Possession

"Tell me, princess," Maksim rumbles against my ear, his thumb flicking teasingly over my swollen clit as his fingers push deeper. "Do you want my cock?"

"Yes," I sob out, tossing my head back against his chest, desperate for the friction. "Yes, Maksim, please..."

He doesn't make me beg twice.

In one smooth motion, he lifts my leg higher, aligning himself at my entrance, and drives into me with a single, deep, devastating thrust that buries him completely inside me. The sheer size and stretch of him make me cry out, a sharp wave of pleasure washing over my entire body.

He doesn't pause. He pulls back and plunges in again, establishing a hard, merciless pace that rocks me against the cold wall. His large hand snakes around my ribs to the front, his thick fingers locking onto my bare breast, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh in sync with every heavy, possessive thrust of his hips.

The movement drives me completely out of my mind. Every relentless stroke is deep, heavy, and brutally precise, claiming all of me until there is no room left to think, only to feel.

His fingers bruise my hip and grip my breast, holding me firmly in place as he pounds into me with a desperate, possessive fury. The sound of skin meeting skin, our harsh, ragged breathing, and the slick friction of our bodies echo off the steam-slicked walls.

"Look at me," he grunts, his voice completely wrecked as his rhythm grows faster, harder, more chaotic.

I turn my head as much as I can, catching his wild, blown-out eyes in the reflection of the vanity mirror. He is completely undone, a man totally consumed by the woman in his arms.

The pressure building in my lower belly snaps violently into a blinding, shuddering climax. My walls contract around him, pulsing tightly as a guttural cry tears from my throat. The feeling of my tight release over his length pushes Maksim straight over the edge.

With a low, primal roar that vibrates through my entire spine, he buries himself as deep as he can go, driving into me one last time as he comes hard, his muscles coiling and trembling against my back.

We hang there together in the aftermath, gasping for air, our wet skin slick with sweat and water, completely locked in each other's arms as our hearts hammer in frantic unison against the cold marble wall.

After a long, unhurried moment of catching our breath, Maksim gently eases out of me, his arms keeping a firm hold on my waist so my liquid-soft legs don't collapse beneath me.

He leads me straight into the open glass shower stall, turning on the overhead rainfall showerhead. Warm water cascades over us, washing away the slick sweat and remaining exhaustion of the night. He doesn't say a word, just holds me under the stream, his hands soothingly running down my back.

Stepping out, he grabs a plush white bath sheet, carefully wrapping it around my body before gently drying off my skin and damp hair with dedicated, quiet care.

When he is finished, he lifts me easily into his arms once more and carries me into the dim, grand bedroom. He sets me down under the heavy silk sheets of the king-sized bed, slipping in right beside me. Reaching over, he clicks off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into the soft, velvet dark of the night.

In the quiet blackness, his massive arm reaches out, pulling my body flush against his chest. I sink into his heat, resting my head over his steady, beating heart.

He tilts his head down, pressing a lingering, tender kiss against the top of my shoulder.

"Goodnight, princess," he murmurs softly into the dark.

“Goodnight, Maksim.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MAKSIM

A soft, persistent tug on my shoulder pulls me out of a heavy, dreamless sleep.

My eyes snap open, my lethal instincts flaring instantly as my hand reaches beneath the pillow for my piece—until the light scent of vanilla and jasmine fills my lungs, cutting through the instinct to kill.

Camilla is hovering over me.

She is fully dressed in cargo pants, a snug black tank top, and combat boots, her dark hair pulled back into a sleek, high ponytail. A bright, eager excitement dances in her eyes, completely contrasting the dim, quiet stillness of the early morning bedroom.

"Get up," she whispers, a wide, triumphant smile curving her lips as she shakes my shoulder again. "You're going to teach me how to shoot today."

I let out a low, gravelly groan, rolling onto my back and throwing a heavy forearm over my eyes to block out her blinding enthusiasm. "It's still so early in the morning, Camilla," I rumble, my voice rough and thick with sleep. "Go back to bed."

"No way, Maksim," she says, her hands coming down to grab my wrist, fruitlessly trying to haul my weight off the mattress. "You promised me, and after last night, I am not taking no for an answer. Get your lazy ass up."

“You handled the shot well last night,” I murmur.