Page 29 of Run, Little Rabbit

“Angel,” he says, my name a warning.

“Fine,” I say with a sigh. “I may or may not have been intimate with Echo’s brothers and met her when I stayed at their house one summer.”

Max’s face drops. “The fuck?”

“It was years ago, before I knew you.” I’d been about twenty-three, and medical school had been kicking my ass, so I took a vacation in the summer and met her brothers Conor and Cillian. I’d always had a soft spot for an Irish accent, so I went and spent a summer across the pond in the gorgeous hills and towns of Ireland and bumped into those two in a small pub and spent a rather wild week with them in their country house.

Fingers grip my chin sharply.

“Are you reminiscing, love?” Max asks, a lethal bite to his words.

There’s no point lying to him. He’s like a fucking human lie detector. “Yes.”

His nostrils widen and his tongue darts out between his plump lips. My heart lurches in my chest as he pushes me backwards. I don’t stop until my knees hit the couch and I fall back onto the cushions. Max crowds me, not stopping until he’s straddling my thighs. Fuck. He looks so beautiful there, like a warrior from hell, all dark and brooding, marked with blood.

My dick is painfully hard, and a groan leaves me as his hips nestle against mine.

“I need to fix your nose,” I say, my words a little breathless.

He leans forwards and sinks his teeth into my bottom lip. I gasp, feeling the pain all the way to my balls.

“Do you want to cause me pain?” he asks, a devious flash in his dark eyes.

“No.” Which is true. I don’t like causing people pain. Feeling pain, on the other hand… it’s like fucking catnip to me.

His grin widens, but he leans back a bit. “Go ahead, doc. Make me all better.”

“I dunno,” I say with a smile. “I like the crookedness. Makes you look more… rugged.”

“Absolutely not,” he hisses. “Fix my fucking nose.”

“Now who’s the drama queen?”

“Fuck you.”

“If I’m lucky.” I place my fingers either side of his nose. There’s already a lot of swelling, so this is probably going to hurt a lot. “On the count of three. Okay?”

“Whatever you say, love.”

“Deep breath. One. Two. Th—” I snap the joint of his nose back into place before I finish the count.

“Jesus. Fuck!” He pulls his head back from me, and I can see that it’s pretty straight. I won’t know for a few days until the swelling goes down, but I think he’s going to be back to his handsome self in no time at all.

He shakes off the pain and turns his attention back to me. It’s intense. Being the sole focus of this man. Maxim Volkov is extreme. In everything he does. Whether it’s torturing someone, making a business deal or fucking me, his attention is always solely focused on that one thing. It’s like you can’t escape; you’re trapped in his gaze. You know you should run; you feel the fear, but you don’t care because, for one brief second, it’s like looking at the sun. It’s not going to do you any good, but you can’t help it. You look anyway, and you wait for the pain to follow because it’s one hundred percent fucking worth it.

His hand wraps around my throat, and I know he’s feeling how fast my heart is racing. It’s one of his kinks. To know how hemakes the other person feel. Even when he’s torturing someone, you can hear the wicked beep of the heart monitor humming in the background so he can monitor his victim. I find it fucking hot; I shouldn’t, but Max is my drug. Everything he does turns me on.

I reach out to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one. The blood from his nose has seeped through onto his chest, and streaks of it cover his tattoos. I spread his shirt wide, and I can feel my pulse hammering against his hand. Blood rushes through my ears as I lean forward, loving how Max’s eyes widen with hunger.

My tongue darts out, sweeping across his pec and over his nipple. The metallic tang of his blood hits my tongue along with the dark, musky taste of his sweat. It’s all him, and I need more.

His hand moves to the back of my head, holding me in place as I swirl and lick my tongue across his skin.

“Angel,” he groans. “My sweet, sweet angel.” He tightens his hand in my hair and yanks my head back. “Are you ready for me?”

I nod. I’m always ready for him.

He presses a soft kiss against my lips, and I know it’ll be the last one I receive for a while. Then he lets go of me and stands. He looks down at me like a king surveying his treasures, and I fucking preen.

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