Page 20 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
Is there any true connection mingled within it all?
I want to say no. But my heart pounds against my ribs, hammering out a silent answer—liar, liar, liar.
“Marriage is status to you. But…” I lick my lower lip, tasting my answer before I have the strength to utter it out loud. “I don’t even know what it is to me. My mother didn’t exactly model healthy relationships.”
Though what does that say about not only me? Daisy, Mikie, and the others have never known stability either. A loving mother is a foreign concept in our world, let alone a father.
“You value your name, but I value my family. I don’t want to make the same mistakes Melanie did.”
And what little I know of marriage comes right from her playbook. Melanie had been married at least four or five times. Hell, to be honest, I’ve lost count. In her view, being a wife was nothing more than a fashionable accessory. A game. A way to chase off boredom.
But I’ve never even had a serious boyfriend. I’ve had partners. Clients. Johns.
I’ve had Maxim.
Only one of those options has lasted longer than a handful of hours at a time.
“Deep, down, I always told myself that I never wanted more,” I confess. “That life was enough. Scraping by and depending only on myself was enough. I don’t know anything else.”
“But I can teach you, littlekotyonok,” he finally says, satisfied by my answer. “There is so much I have yet to teach you.”
He nudges me onto my side, tracing my sore nipple with the tip of his thumb. In one swift motion, he releases the clamp, and my head swims.
“Holy shit!” I nearly crawl off the fucking bed to escape the unbearable sting—he has to press on my hip just to keep me in place.
“It will hurt,” he warns, soothing the abused flesh as blood rushes back to the area. “I think you might enjoy this more than a whipping.” He spares a glance at my trembling knees, fighting to stay together. “Next time, I will...”
He trails off, letting my twisted imagination fill in the gap.
A whine breaks from me as he releases the second clamp, but then his hands settle over my hips, drawing me into him.
“I can show you the lengths a man will go to in order to prove his claim to the entire fucking world,” he swears. “But I won’t call you my wife without the power that title deserves. I won’t.” He drags his fingers along the side of my face, down to my throat. “So if you want it…then fightwithme for it.”
“How?”
“There is someone I could use as an ally,” he admits, and I marvel at the change in his tone. Gone is the bitter anger. He’s the composed, calculating game master again. One with a new strategy in mind. “Finding him will be difficult,” he adds. “But if you want a partnership? Then come with me when I eventually do track him down.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” I shiver as his fingers soothe my burning scalp, replacing the violent tugging with a rare, addicting softness. “He would never agree to meet me alone. And you… You will fascinate him.” A growl mangles the words, making them anything but a compliment.
His touch turns possessive as his nails nip at my flesh in a silent warning.You’re mine.
“Who is he?”
All at once, he withdraws from me and leaves the bed altogether. His footsteps retreat toward the doorway, but I know better than to chase him this time. I merely roll over and watch him go, his body dominating the door as growing darkness shrouds the room in shadow. Near the threshold of the hallway, he hesitates.
“He… He is someone I mistrust even more than Anatoli. And he is the only other bastard crazy enough to stand against him.”
He enters the hall, and his echoing steps track his progress throughout the suite—but he never leaves.
And I don’t sleep. I just coexist in a silent dwelling that I know he still occupies, fuming in some distant corner. I can smell him. Sense him. It’s like my body stays attuned to his presence even if he isn’t in the same fucking room.
I’m draped in invisible chains this time, tugged and twisted at his discretion.
And right now, he is twisting hard.
