Promised to the Killer: A Dark Mafia Romance - Page 60

I keep seeing Zita’s face. Her terror. Her utter, pure horror.

For so long, I thought my father and his people were the most powerful men in the world. I lived in fear and awe of them. I thought they could do anything, destroy anyone, take whatever they wanted. I never once pictured Zita being cowed by anyone except for my father. How was that possible, when he was the most terrifying man in the entire world?

Maxim managed to do it with nothing but his words and a smile.

Complicated emotions flit through me. I’m excited, yes, but I’m also wary, afraid, jealous, angry. I want to have been the one to make Zita pay for what she did to me and Mira and all the others, and yet it took a man like Maxim to make it happen. The world isn’t fair; that’s the way the world is.

But most of all, I’m grateful.

Maxim closes the door and faces me as I pace into the sitting area. It’s warm and cozy, and the stack of English-language Russian novels next to the window teeters sideways. War and Peace sits open on an armchair with a velvet bookmark down its middle: the red fabric glints slightly in the overhead lighting.

“I didn’t know you were going to do that,” I say, staring at the leather covers. I touch them with my fingertips. I luxuriate in their softness and their age. Old, cracking, soft. They’re strangely warm. “Is that what you’ve been doing the last few days?”

“Among other things, yes. Zita wasn’t difficult to track down, but I wanted more than just her address. I wanted her entire world. I needed her to know that I could destroy everything she loved if she disobeyed me.”

I shiver and my heart quickens. Is that what he wants from me? Complete obedience? Does he want me to know he could wreck me at any time?

I don’t know how I feel about it. Excited at some level. I like the idea of giving myself to him, body and soul. But I’ve spent so long as the object of other people, controlled and directed, and I’m not sure what my life would be like if I finally submitted completely to Maxim.

And I don’t even know if that’s what he wants.

“Look at me,” he says. He’s closer now. Only a few feet away.

I look back. His eyes sizzle into mine and I feel my racing heartbeat and the sharp pulse of adrenaline rushing through my veins. It’s like the first hit of heroin, the first taste of cocaine—it’s a drug and it’s heaven and it’s hell all at once.

My contradiction. My Maxim.

“I took care of Zita for you because it was the right thing to do, and because I want you to be happy. But you still broke my rules, and I haven’t punished you yet. I wanted to wait until this was done with, so you knew I was fair. Now comes the hard part.”

I step back and bump against the chair. The pile of books topples over and spills onto the floor with a thud. I’m too afraid to look. “What are you going to do?”

He comes at me. I open my mouth to scream but his lips clamp down on mine as he pushes me toward the window. I gasp into his kiss and let him force me onto the deep bay windowsill. The wood’s cold beneath my legs and I wrap one ankle around his thigh and press myself against him with a whimper.

His hand finds my hair and tightens in the strands. He bites my lower lip hard, on the edge of making me bleed. I groan in pain and excitement as he holds me there.

“I’m going to undress you now,” he says. Not a question. No hint of hesitation. There are no options for me, not right now. “I’m going to spank your ass raw. I’m going to make you hurt, Siena. But while I make you hurt, I’m going to bring you to the edge of orgasm and leave you there. What happens next will be up to you.”

“Maxim,” I whisper, my spine tingling with excitement. I must be sick. I can’t possibly want this.

But I do.

He takes off my top. He does it lovingly, one button at a time. He kisses my neck, nibbling softly, teasing. His hands are sure and strong and warm. I feel a slight breeze from the window, hot and gentle against my neck. He unhooks my bra and kisses my nipples, his tongue rolling around them, as he takes off my shorts.

I sit there in my panties and nothing else as he looks down at me with blazing hot eyes. I can feel the freezing wood grain beneath my thighs. He looks like he wants to ruin me, and I want him to try.

Tags: B.B. Hamel Dark
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