Another brush of his calloused thumbs sent pleasure thrumming through me. I squirmed in embarrassment when he parted my lower lips, studying my most private area with his hungry black gaze.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he rumbled, and a wave of feminine satisfaction washed through me. His praise did something funny to my insides, warming me all the way to my fingers and toes. I quivered in his hold, an uncontrollable tremor making my thighs shake in his powerful grip.
His low hum was so close to my sex that I felt it vibrate through my core. “I like having you like this: trembling and calling out my name. At my mercy.” He pressed a kiss directly to my clit, drawing a ragged cry from my chest. “Totally helpless.” His tongue circled the hard bud, and stars popped across my vision. “All mine.”
My fingers tangled in his hair, and despite the way my cheeks flushed at my boldness, I tugged him toward my pulsing core. I needed his mouth on me. I needed…
My back arched on a rough shout when his tongue traced my slit before flicking over my clit. His low groan rumbled through my belly, and my inner walls contracted, aching to be filled.
“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” He pressed a kiss to my inner thigh before returning his full attention to the throbbing heat between my legs.
His skillful mouth drove me wild, drawing pleasure I’d never known from my most intimate places until I was writhing beneath his firm hold on my thighs. My fingers twined in his glossy curls, urging him impossibly closer, directing his tongue deeper.
He nipped at my clit in reprimand, and an ecstatic burst of something between pleasure and pain shot down my spine. His hands left my legs to capture my wrists, his long fingers cuffing me down as he pinned them to the sheets at my sides.
“Look at me,” he commanded.
My eyes snapped to his, and I watched as he tongued my sex. The sight of him worshipping between my legs sent a pulse of warmth through my belly, stoking the fire inside me.
He kept me captive in his flashing black gaze as he rumbled dirty words against my lower lips. “Who does this pretty pussy belong to?”
My cheeks flamed with embarrassment, and I squeezed my eyes shut. A nip of pain dragged my attention back to him when his teeth grazed my clit in warning. A shudder rolled through me as I met his possessive stare.
“You,” I whispered. “I’m yours, Max.”
“That’s right,” he growled. “Mine.”
With that fierce declaration of ownership, his tongue delved between my slick folds, and desire washed through me. I twisted against his grip on my wrists, struggling to hold onto him once again. His fingers tightened, shackling me in place as he tormented me with decadent pleasure.
I wantonly lifted my hips, grinding against his face. He held me at the brink, and I was desperate for release. The pleasure was too much, tormenting me with so much bliss, I thought I’d burn with it.
“Please, Max. Please…”
My begging and panting his name seemed to be his trigger, because he feasted on me like a man possessed. Ecstasy exploded through me, spreading from my core in a riptide of pleasure. My back arched, and a sharp scream tore from my chest at the intensity of my release. The orgasm went on and on, Max forcing every last drop of pleasure from my shaking body.
When I was utterly spent and trembling beneath him, he finally relented. His jaw was tight with need, and white-hot flames flickered over his dark eyes as he braced himself over me with one strong arm. His free hand went to his hard cock, and he worked his shaft while he kept me pinned in his intense, possessive stare. His gaze roved over each of my features, memorizing me in my post-orgasmic glow.
My hands no longer bound by his, I cupped his beautiful face and pulled him into me for a fierce kiss. I tasted my own desire on his tongue, and the reminder of how he’d claimed me sent a fresh shudder of pleasure through my body.
He cried out into my mouth, and heat lashed at my stomach as he attained his own release. He kissed me like he owned me, like every inch of me belonged to him.
I twined my arms around his neck and pulled him closer, giving him everything. I did belong to Max, and he belonged to me.
ALLIE
You think it’s your fault that your mom died because you didn’t run back into that fire to save her. But there was nothing you could’ve done. She was already dead. Max’s horrific words echoed through my mind. Your father started the fire to cover up her murder. He didn’t want anyone asking uncomfortable questions. There was the election to think about. And then, his Russian friends killed my mom in retribution.
“You okay, Bambi?” Max’s low rumble jolted me back to the present. His jaw was tight, and his eyes were dark with concern.
I realized that we’d arrived outside the building that housed the U.S. Attorney’s Office, but I couldn’t remember the last five minutes of our journey as he’d escorted me to work.
When we’d woken up in my bed this morning, Max had promised that he’d stay close until he was sure that I was safe from his cousins.
If you hurt her, I will fucking kill you. Both of you.
My stomach lurched, my body rebelling against the idea that Max was capable of murder. He’d sworn that he would do anything to protect me. Did that really mean he’d go so far as to kill members of his own family? No matter how terrifying his cousins were, I shuddered at the prospect that Max could be a killer.
It was too much. While I was with him, I was able to lose myself in him and forget about all the complications that should separate us: his Mafia family and his vendetta against my dad.
Now that the shadows that usually shrouded my dark protector were dispelled by the morning light, everything was becoming all too real. I couldn’t ignore his sickening accusations anymore.
“Allie?” Max’s brow furrowed, and his fingers danced along my jaw in a soothing caress.
Despite my distress, I leaned into him, craving to throw myself into his strong arms and forget all the awful things that should separate us.
“I should go,” I murmured, unable to lie and say I was fine. If I didn’t get to work and distract myself, I’d be sick.
“I’ll be here when you get off work.” His promise was edged with something like warning.
Max had said that he couldn’t say away from me, and I didn’t want him to. No matter how terrible his accusations against my father were, I wanted him more than I wanted my next breath. The man who held me with such harsh passion and shocking tenderness was my addiction, and nothing could sever our fiery connection.
He pressed a quick, searing kiss against my lips, branding me with his heat. His masculine scent enfolded me, and I tipped my head back to accept his fierce claim. For a few merciful seconds, the churning in my stomach abated, and all I thought about was Max: the beautiful, damaged man who would do anything to keep me safe.
But as soon as I walked away from him and entered the building, the queasy feeling returned. I barely made it out of the elevator before my stomach knotted, and I rushed toward the bathroom. I locked myself in the stall just in time to vomit at the sheer horror of what he’d told me on that night he’d crushed my heart. For weeks, I’d been trying to convince myself that he was wrong, that his family had lied to him.
But after last night, when he’d told me some of the terrible details about his own mother’s brutal murder, I couldn’t avoid thinking about it any longer.