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So what the hell can we do?
If I’m so strong, why can’t I save everyone?
When I’m cleaned off and dressed, he gets me settled in my chair. The warm towel does feel soothing on my aching butt. He goes to leave, but I make him stay. He frowns slightly, quizzical, head tilted.
“You don’t have to run off, you know,” I say quietly.
He nods once, pulls up a chair, and sits.
“Hand me that book,” he says, nodding at the last book still standing on the table.
I toss it over. He catches it.
I pick upWar and Peaceand we start to read.
Chapter18
Siena
Maxim was right. I’m sore for a few days after that punishment. He goes easy on me—but he doesn’t keep his hands to himself.
It’s like I woke something up and can’t put it back down.
Not that I want to. We sleep in bed together that night, the first time since our first evening together, what feels like forever ago. He fucks me slowly, almost tenderly, hands cupping my breasts, and I come as I ride him into oblivion.
It’s the same thing the next morning. Tender tongue on my clit, his hard cock between my legs. He takes me, and takes me, and takes me, and over the next few days we have more sex than I thought was possible in such a short time.
We don’t talk about the change. Neither of us seems like we want to admit it. I’m afraid if I mention anything, it’ll break the spell. My feelings for him are complicated—I’m still angry about what happened at The Velvet Rope and blame him for a lot of my misery—but I’m beginning to soften a bit.
Maybe it’s all the hot sex turning my head to mush.
Not like I’m complaining.
He’s insatiable, and I can’t get enough. He fucks me from behind in the shower. He makes me suck his cock while I tease my own clit and when I’m about to come, he finishes deep between my legs while I scream his name.
I notice a change in him, too. He cuddles me at night in the darkness after fucking me into submission. He whispers sweet things in my ear. He tells me he’ll slay a dragon for me. He’ll invade a kingdom for me. He’ll give me the world, and all I have to do is ask.
But eventually, I need to eat, so when Emiliya invites me out to lunch, I decide to accept.
“When will you be back?” Maxim looks at me like he’s about to rip my clothes off and refuse to let me go.
“Soon, I promise.” I laugh and kiss his cheek. “You need to get some work done too, you know.”
“Fuck work. They don’t need me. I want this.” He grabs my ass and I only wince a little bit. The pain’s mostly gone and only a ghostly yellow bruise in the shape of his hand remains from his punishment.
“You’ll get it later. Absence makes the heart grow, blah blah blah.”
“Let me pick you up when you’re done at least.”
“If you insist.”
He kisses me, deep and slow. “Don’t let my sister walk all over you.”
“She won’t. She’s a sweetheart.”
He grunts. “She’s bratva.”
I pat his face and head out. Emiliya meets me downstairs and one of the family drivers takes us to a barbeque place with a big tent outside. We sit in the shade at a picnic table and Emiliya wolfs down brisket like its water. She chatters on about her brothers (loves them dearly, thinks they’re all morons) and her parents (mother is a saint, father is the devil). “You seem to be getting along with Maxim,” she says, smiling at me as she wipes her mouth and takes a breath for the first time since we arrived. “How’s that going?”
