Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
She was gone, but that didn’t stop Maksim from sitting with her until her parents arrived.
“Don’t tempt me, Doc,” Maksim says when I peer up at him with loved-up eyes.
I’m still grieving the unnecessary loss of an innocent child, but the way Maksim has helped me through my grief process over the past five days has made me fall in love with him more than I ever thought possible. He held me when I cried, washed my hair when I tried to drown my sorrows in the tub, and fed me even when I swore I wasn’t hungry.
He looked after me like a husband would a wife and proved without doubt that he didn’t marry me for an alibi.
“I’m already struggling not to touch you,” Maksim admits, doubling the output of my heart. “I don’t know if I will be able to hold back if you say the words I see in your eyes.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
Some of the hurt lifts when he murmurs, “Still a shit liar, Doc.”
I try to pretend his words aren’t gospel. “I wasn’t going to speak.” Now I’m honest. “I was going to kiss you since they’ll forever relay more than my words ever will.” I shrug before heading for the exit. “But if you don’t want me to do that, I guess I will wait for you out there—”
He tugs me back in front of him so fast my words are forced back down my throat by the gust his pull causes, and then he cups my jaw as I’ve been dying for him to do the past few days before he seals his mouth over mine.
I melt into his embrace before I’m eventually wholly consumed by it.
Maksim knows how to kiss, and it has me suddenly knowledgeable as to why he’s withheld them from me the past five days. He knows they’ll lead to sex, and although he’d never deny me, he knew I needed time to grieve. Not just the loss of Yulia’s life, but my mother’s and sister’s as well.
I wasn’t given the chance to grieve back then.
Maksim would never allow that to happen again.
After nibbling on his lips, I inch back before locking my lusty eyes with his. “I love you, Maksim.”
“Fuck, Doc,” he murmurs, his chest heaving like the words are almost too much for him to hear. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you’re making it real fucking hard.”
A confidence I never anticipated owning shines bright when I lick my lips before lowering my eyes to the crotch of his trousers. “Who said I wanted you to be a gentleman?”
“Doc…” he growls in warning, his low tone announcing just how tethered his restraint is.
“I love you.”
I inch closer.
“I need you.”
Another step.
“But I can’t tell you that with words. I need to show you.”
He lunges for me so fast my pajama bottoms don’t stand a chance against his rueful tugs.
I’m naked from the waist down in under ten seconds and being filled by Maksim’s fat cock even quicker than that.
“Don’t even think about it.” Maksim’s grumble ruffles strands of hair sticky with enough sweat that they shouldn’t be able to move. “My cock loves being surrounded by your heat.” I mouth his reply while he vocalizes it. “Even when we’re not doing anything.”
I pretend I’m not busting to pee by snuggling back into his chest and tickling his ribs with my fingertips. We were so impatient we almost didn’t make it out of the bathroom. We stumbled as far as the walk-in closet before Maksim buried his head between my legs to feast on the dessert that will only ever be consumed by him.
Round two eventually saw us rumpling the bedding on our mattress. That was around two or three hours ago. I can’t be sure of exactly how long I’ve been sheltered from my grief by Maksim’s sturdy cocoon, because I collapsed from satiated exhaustion seconds after my name tore from his throat while his cum heated the walls of my vagina.
Our impatience to become reacquainted means we’re still mostly clothed. Half of Maksim’s trousers are huddled around his shoes, and the other half are sprawled across our bed. My pajama shirt is more of a belt than the ensemble I had hoped would entice my husband back to our bed earlier rather than later, and my lacy sleeping bra is still latched, but the cups are pulled underneath my breasts.
I stop fighting the smile I’d feel guilty showing after so many innocent lives were taken when my fingers flutter over a gritty lesion in Maksim’s lower back. You can’t fight something that no longer exists.
I’m too panicked to smile.
“What is that?”
“It’s nothing,” Maksim immediately replies before rocking his hips upward slowly, striving to coerce my curiosity to longing with his rapidly thickening cock.
“It doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”