Page 60 of The Stalking King

Lia: This doesn’t mean anything. But get over here.

Maksim: It means everything.

I reply, pocket my phone, and hurry from the house.

I drive fast, my knuckles turning white as I grip the steering wheel.

Nodding to my men, I hurry up the stairs to the townhouse and hammer on the door. She answers it in a bathrobe. My dick is leaking in anticipation. Her hair is free, no makeup on her face, as though she showered recently.

I surge inside and pull her into my arms, kissing her passionately. She reaches behind me and pushes the door closed. I grip her ass indulgently, greedily. She shivers against me.

“Did you do what you were told?” I snarl in her ear.

“Yes,” she whimpers. “But this is… just this.”

“It’s all I need,” I tell her, and she looks offended. I kiss her on the cheek. “For now.”

She squeals with delight when I lift her into my arms. But halfway up the stairs, she wriggles like she can’t wait. She pouts up at me with a devastatingly beautiful look on her face. It’s dangerous and nervous all at once.

“You want it here,” I growl, reading her. “You want it rough and hard. You want me to take you like the Bratva king.”

Oh, fuck.

I’m right.

Her breathy pants and the look on her face tell me everything I need to know.

I put her down, facing away from me. She leans forward, bracing her hands on the higher stairs. I can’t fucking believe this. This is a dream come true. I don’t think about after, when she might tell me this was just sex.

I tear off her bathrobe, gasping when I see her smooth round ass. Her inner thighs tell me she wasn’t lying. They’re glistening and wet, her juices dripping down her silk legs.

My hand flies to my belt and rips it away. I pull my pants down just enough for my cock to spring up.

“You’re filth,” I growl. “In the best possible way. Filthy as fuck, just for me.”

“Yes, yes,” she moans.

“Tried to be good. Tried to have morals. But in the end, you need your Bratva man’s cock deep in that tight, needy pussy.”

She shifts her hips from side to side, her ass swaying. “Maksim,” she says tightly.

I smooth my hands over her ass, pushing her thick folds together, fixating on the glorious size of her. A string of precome slides from my cock and onto her skin. I watch it slide down her skin in wonder.

“How wet did those texts get you?” I growl, guiding my shaft to her core.

Her entrance kisses me. So. Fucking. Wet and hot. She burns against my tip as I hold myself there, teasing her, teasing myself.

“Maksim,” she pants.

“Tell me,” I demand, and I sound like I do when dealing with business. “Now.”

“So wet,” she admits, her voice shaking. “I did… I tried to be good. But it’s been so long and then you and me and—and it’s never felt like that, anyway. Is it so bad to want something? Just for a little while?”

I push forward more, her heat wrapping tightly around me. She’s clutching onto me with a vic like she never wants to let go.

“I thought of this so many times,” I snarl, thrusting all the way in, watching her ass meet my tense abs. “Watching you on the video, imagining those scrubs gone. Fuck—fuck. Just this… thick, perfect ass.”

She turns, staring at me, nodding. She needs this as badly as I do. No matter how hard she tries to fight it.