Bound Together (Dangerous Sinners) - Page 1

Part One

Ten Years Ago

Chapter 1

SAMIRA

One look at Maxim Fedorov, and I know he’ll be my ruin. He’s seeped into my bloodstream, making me a prisoner to his touch and an addict of his love.

We’ll never be free. Our whole affair is a collage of stolen moments and complicated hook-ups, but my heart and body don’t care. I never asked to be a bargaining chip in a game conducted by monsters. I never choose this life or my role in it. The only decision I’ve ever made was to love Maxim.

One hand firmly grips my hair while his other wraps around my throat. His fingers press into my flesh, taking my breath with such force that I’m not sure I would care if he took my life. In his violence, I savor liberation. By his force, I discover trust. Through his anger, I find love.

“I hate that he even looks at you. The way his eyes take you in like he’s picturing you naked. He’ll never touch you,” Maxim pants in ragged breaths. His frantic kisses border on possessive desperation blazing across my skin. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him. I’ll find a way.”

This affair with Maxim is the only thing I have a modicum of control over.

My love for him is my choice and no one else’s. But it’s a choice that could blow into a million pieces and obliterate us. At moments like this, when he’s all that surrounds me, I don’t think about the reality of our faith. I’m lost in the faint possibility of our future. We speak about running off, but our forbidden love has no future. It only has the potential for bloodshed.

Max has more hope than I do. He still thinks he can save us, that we have a future, control over our fate. But I’m rooted in the reality that I’m not, and never will be, in control of my own life. I’m a pawn on a chessboard, my every move orchestrated by powerful men. The only thing I’ll ever have are these few stolen moments.

I don’t respond to his promises of white picket fences and sunny days. As much as he wants to save me, I know he can’t. I let his hands roam my body and get lost, knowing that our sin is my only salvation. Sometimes I pray that he’ll snap, and I’ll die from the force of the way he shows me his love.

“You’re mine, Samira. You’ll always be mine.”

“My heart is yours,” I say, not daring to promise anything more. I long to tell him that every single part of me belongs to him, but I’ll never lie to Max. The idea of tainting what we have with lies repels me.

Max pulls away from me, and something flashes in his eyes. Anger, rage. I’m not sure. “I’ll fix it. We’ll be free of them.”

I tug at his tie, pull him toward me, and whisper, “Can we not think about it right now?”

A growl escapes his throat as he crushes his lips to mine. It’s a kiss of ownership. Max pours his soul into it, consuming me. He ignites the kiss, his need for me like gasoline accelerating the fire inside me to new heights. Passion and want wrap around my heart with a vise-like grip. The notion that one day he won’t be here is claw marks on my heart. Max will be the wound that never heals. He’s imprinted himself on my entire being, a permanent tattoo.

He tugs my hair, and I fall to my knees, eye level with his hard cock. I long to have him in my mouth, to get lost in his aggressive love. His frustration fuels the way he fucks me, and my desperation allows it. Our passion is volatile, an animalistic need grounded in nature.

“Take out my cock,” Max demands. His voice is hoarse, his eyes hooded as he stares down at me.

The way he looks at me is combustible, like I’m his whole reason for living. In these moments, I allow myself to believe that his delusions are a possibility.

My hands work their way to his zipper, and I tug at the metallic tab, so his black dress pants drop to his ankles. I smile at his lack of underwear. Even our wardrobe is constructed for our affair. Minimal clothing to allow for maximum pleasure at any moment. I pull out his dick and kiss the head before licking the pre-cum from my lips.

“See what you do to me,” he groans as he fists his cock in his hand and slaps my face with it. “You’re gonna take care of it. Open up, Malishka. Show me what a good little slut you are for me.

I grind my thighs together as I open my mouth and take in his velvet cock. His dick is huge. It barely fits in my mouth, but I love forcing myself to take in all of him.

Tags: Mila Crawford Crime
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