Embrace of the Russian Tiger (Russian Mafia Kings #2)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

D ays passed after I confronted Maxim. I hated it.

I hated that I couldn’t stop thinking about him, that I couldn’t control the way my body reacted when he was near. I hated that, even after everything—after the lies, the manipulation, the secrets—I still found myself wanting him.

The mansion was quiet tonight, the kind of quiet that felt oppressive, like the stillness before a storm. I had been wandering the halls aimlessly, trying to clear my head, but my thoughts kept circling back to him. Always him. It was like I couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard I tried.

As I turned the corner into the hallway leading to his office, I froze. The door was cracked open slightly, just enough for me to hear the soft murmur of his voice. He wasn’t speaking in his usual sharp, commanding tone. There was something softer, almost... pained about it. My heart skipped a beat, and before I knew what I was doing, I was inching closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

I peeked through the door, careful not to make a sound, and my breath caught in my throat.

Maxim was sitting at his desk, leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, his hand massaging his temples as if he were trying to ease some deep, internal pain. His expression, usually so cold and unreadable, was tight with something I hadn’t seen before. Vulnerability.

And then he spoke, barely above a whisper, but it was enough to send a chill down my spine. “Katya...”

His sister.

My heart clenched as I watched him. I had never seen him like this, so raw, so exposed. It was like the weight of the world was crushing him, and for the first time, he wasn’t hiding it.

He didn’t know I was there; didn’t know I was watching him. And in that moment, I realized that there was so much more to him than the cold, ruthless man I had seen. There was pain there, deep pain, and it called to something inside me, something I didn’t want to acknowledge.

I should have walked away. I should have left him to his thoughts, left him to his darkness. But instead, I pushed the door open wider, stepping into the room.

He tensed the moment he heard me, his eyes snapping open, his body going rigid as he turned to face me. For a second, I saw the vulnerability in his eyes, but it was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that familiar mask of cold indifference.

“What are you doing here, Anna?” he asked, his voice hard, but I could hear the strain beneath it. He was trying to keep control, trying to shut me out.

“I was walking,” I said quietly, taking a few steps closer. “I heard you.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just watched me, his gaze sharp, calculating, as if he were trying to decide how much to let me see.

“You don’t have to hide from me,” I whispered, stepping closer still. My heart was pounding in my chest, a wild rhythm that matched the intensity of the air between us.

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to shut me down, push me away like he always did. But then something shifted in his eyes, something that made my breath catch.

“You think you know me, Anna?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous. “You think you’ve seen the real me?”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. “No. But I think I’ve seen enough.”

He stood abruptly, closing the distance between us in a single, swift movement. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating in the best way, and I had to fight the urge to back away. My heart pounded in my chest, but I held my ground, refusing to let him intimidate me.

“You don’t know half of what I’ve done,” he said, his voice hard, though I could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. “The things I’ve done to protect what I built.”

“Tell me. What have you done?” I whispered, my voice shaking with the intensity of the emotions coursing through me. “

His breath hitched, just for a moment, and I knew I had struck something deep. Something he wasn’t ready to face. But I couldn’t stop now.

“You can push me away all you want, Maxim, but it won’t change what’s happening,” I said, my voice gaining strength as I spoke. “It won’t change the fact that I see you. The real you. And I’m not afraid.”

His eyes darkened, and before I could say anything else, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me against him. The air between us was electric, charged with a tension that had been building for weeks, and my body reacted to his touch in ways I couldn’t control.

“You should be afraid,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, his breath hot against my skin. “I’m not a good man, Anna. I’ve done things that would make you really hate me. Not the hate you like to say you feel for me right now. Real hate.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. “I won’t hate you.”

His grip on my wrist tightened, his eyes searching mine as if he were looking for something—some sign of fear, of hesitation. But I wasn’t afraid. Not of him. Not anymore.

His other hand moved to my waist, pulling me even closer until our bodies were flush against each other, the heat of him searing through my clothes. I could feel the tension in him, the way he was holding himself back, like he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control.

And then, without warning, his lips crashed down on mine.

The kiss was intense, desperate, like he was claiming me, marking me as his. But beneath the hunger, beneath the need, there was something deeper, something raw and unspoken. I kissed him back with equal fervor, my hands fisting in his shirt as I pulled him closer, needing more. Needing everything.

We stumbled backward, his hands moving to cup my face as he guided me toward the bed. My heart raced, my body igniting with every touch, every kiss. I had been fighting this for so long, fighting the pull between us, but now that it was happening, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.

He laid me down gently, his body hovering over mine as his lips trailed down my neck, his hands exploring every inch of me. My breath hitched as his fingers moved beneath my shirt, skimming over my bare skin, igniting a fire inside me that I couldn’t control.

"Maxim..." I whispered, my voice trembling with desire.

He didn’t respond with words. Instead, his lips found mine again, his kiss demanding and consuming. His hands were everywhere, setting my skin on fire as they moved over my body, exploring, claiming.

I arched into him, my breath coming in ragged gasps as his hands moved lower, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I felt like I was losing myself, losing all sense of control, and I didn’t care. Not in that moment.

His hands dipped lower, his fingers teasing the waistband of my pants before slipping beneath, and I let out a soft gasp as he found exactly what I needed. His touch was rough, urgent, but there was something else there too—something tender, something vulnerable.

I moaned his name, my body arching against him as he continued to work me, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as I kissed him, desperate for more, for everything.

And then, just when I thought I couldn’t take anymore, just when I was teetering on the edge of release, he pulled back, his lips hovering over mine, his breath ragged.

"You don’t know what you’re doing to me," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

I reached up, cupping his face in my hands as I pulled him down for another kiss. "Then show me."

His hands gripped my thighs with a bruising force, spreading them wide as his mouth descended on me like a predator closing in on its prey. There was no hesitation, no gentleness—only raw hunger and need. His lips trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, igniting a fire that burned hotter with every touch. I could feel the heat of his breath against me, so close yet agonizingly teasing.

"God, you taste so fucking good," he growled against me, his voice rough, dripping with desire. His fingers dug into my skin, keeping me pinned in place, spreading me wider as his mouth inched closer, deliberately taking his time, driving me insane. I gasped for air, my hips bucking involuntarily, but he held me down, his strength overpowering any movement I tried to make.

"You’re not going anywhere," Maxim’s voice was dark, commanding, sending a shiver straight down my spine. "You’re going to stay right here until I’ve had every inch of you. Until I’ve made you scream my name."

I whimpered, clawing at the sheets beneath me, desperate for more, for his mouth, his touch, anything to relieve the aching need that pulsed through me. My body tensed under the skilled assault of his tongue as it finally found me, circling my most sensitive spot with such precision that I thought I might lose my mind. Every flick, every stroke drove me higher, pushing me closer to the edge, and I couldn’t stop the soft cries that escaped my lips.

"Fuck, you’re already soaking for me," he muttered, his mouth never leaving me as he devoured me with an intensity that bordered on brutal. "You want me so bad, don’t you? I can feel how much you want it."

His words sent a shockwave of arousal through me, and I couldn’t help but moan his name, lost in the sensations that consumed me. "Maxim... please... I?—"

He cut me off, his grip on my thighs tightening, pulling me even closer as his tongue moved faster, teasing, torturing. "You don’t get to beg yet," he growled, his voice vibrating against me, sending jolts of pleasure deep into my core. "Not until I’ve decided you’ve earned it."

I cried out, the intensity of his mouth on me overwhelming, every nerve ending on fire as he pushed me higher and higher. My mind was spinning, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, and I was helpless, completely at his mercy.

"Look at you," he groaned, pulling back just enough for me to feel the loss of his mouth, but not enough to offer any relief. "Fucking wrecked for me. And I’ve barely started." He pressed his thumb against me, watching my body arch and tremble in response. "You’re mine, every fucking inch of you."

His eyes were dark, predatory, locked on mine as he dipped his head once more, and I nearly came undone at the sight of him, so relentless, so determined to destroy me with his mouth. My fingers tangled in his hair, desperate, pulling him closer, needing more, needing him.

"Maxim..." I gasped, my voice cracking with desperation. "Please... I can’t... I need?—"

He chuckled darkly, and the sound sent another surge of heat through me. "You need me to make you come, don’t you?" he taunted, his lips brushing against my swollen flesh. "You need to fall apart for me, don’t you?"

I could only nod, my body tightening, coiling with the intensity of it all. I was so close, teetering on the edge of something massive, something that threatened to shatter me completely.

"Beg," he commanded, his voice like velvet and steel. "Beg me to finish you."

I swallowed hard, the words tumbling from my lips before I could stop them. "Maxim... please... make me come. I need you. Please..."

His eyes flashed with satisfaction, and in that moment, he showed no mercy. His mouth descended on me again, his tongue moving with such ferocity that I couldn’t hold back the scream that ripped from my throat. He ravished me, devoured me, his hands gripping me tightly as he brought me to the brink of madness.

And then, with one final flick of his tongue, I shattered.

My body arched violently off the bed, my legs trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of blinding pleasure crashed over me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel the overwhelming ecstasy that tore through me, leaving me breathless and quivering beneath him. I clung to him as though he were my lifeline, my nails digging into his scalp as I rode out every last tremor.

But he didn’t stop. Not until the last shudder had wracked through me, not until my body was limp and spent in his arms. He pulled back just enough to look up at me, his lips glistening with the evidence of my release, his eyes burning with an intensity that made my heart race.

"You’re so fucking beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice softer now, though the rough edge was still there. "Completely wrecked. Completely mine."

But as I tried to catch my breath, the doubts started creeping back in. The pleasure he’d just given me, the way he’d made me feel, it was undeniable... but so were the questions. The secrets. The lies. How could I give myself to him like this when he had kept so much from me?

I pulled away from his kiss, my chest heaving as I stared up at him, my emotions a tangled mess of desire and uncertainty. His face softened slightly, but there was still that guarded look, as if he was waiting for me to push him away, waiting for me to break the fragile thing between us.

"Maxim..." I began, my voice shaky as I tried to gather my thoughts, to make sense of what I was feeling. "How can I... How can I trust you when you’ve kept so much from me?"

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze darkened, the familiar coldness slipping back into place, though I could see a flicker of something else beneath the surface—something vulnerable. But still, he stayed silent, watching me, waiting.

I wanted to demand answers, to force him to tell me everything, but the truth was, I didn’t know if I was ready for that. I didn’t know if I wanted to know all the secrets he was hiding. Because once I knew, everything would change.

And so, for now, all I could do was breathe, steady myself, and try to make sense of the whirlwind that was Maxim and everything he made me feel.

"You’re dangerous," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "You make me feel things I don’t want to feel."

Maxim’s eyes darkened, his hand sliding up to cup my face as he leaned down, his lips brushing against mine in a whisper of a kiss. "You think I don’t know that?" he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. "You think I haven’t been fighting this as much as you?"

I stared up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. For the first time, I saw the cracks in his armor—the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide. The control he clung to so tightly, slipping away.

"Why are you fighting it?" I asked, my voice trembling.

My breath caught in my throat, his words slamming into me with the force of a wrecking ball. Loving me. He hadn’t said it outright, but the implication was there. He felt it too—the pull, the connection, the thing that was slowly consuming both of us.

Maxim’s jaw clenched, his eyes searching mine for something—an answer, a solution, a way out of this mess we had created. But there was no way out. Not anymore.

He kissed me again, slow and tender this time, as if he were memorizing the feel of my lips, the taste of me. And in that kiss, I felt it all—the fear, the desire, the inevitability of what was happening between us.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath hot and heavy against my lips. "This will destroy us both," he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet resignation.

I closed my eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over me. "Maybe we’re already destroyed," I whispered.

And part of me didn’t want to return.

Maxim stood, his hand brushing my cheek before he pulled away entirely, his gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door.

But before he could leave, I called out, my voice soft but filled with everything I couldn’t say aloud. "Maxim?"

He stopped, his hand resting on the doorframe, his back still to me. "Yes?"

"I’m not afraid of you."

The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. He didn’t respond, but I saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way his hand tightened on the frame.

And then, without another word, he left.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my heart pounding, my mind a storm of emotions I couldn’t untangle. I was falling for him—falling for a man who was as dangerous as he was broken. And I didn’t know how to stop.

I didn’t know if I wanted to.