Page 7 of Surrender: XXX Maxim
“I will admit that I prefer to use the club whenever I can,” he admits as he steps over the threshold. “But in the interim,thiswill make do for when I need you.”
This. A space enclosed by ebony walls and gray marble floors, containing more careful details than the rest of the suite. There are no windows to the outside world. Just closeness and shadow and him. The only real item of furniture is a table in the center made of solid black marble, polished enough for me to make out my reflection as he sets me onto it.
It’s cold. A hiss escapes my mouth, and he tugs me closer in response, dominating the space between my legs. Leeching off his heat, I watch him silently explore the surface beneath me. For my benefit, I realize—it’s a silent tour of sorts.
Beneath my position, a small ledge extends from the side of the table. I follow the line of his gaze as he runs his hands over the objects strategically placed there, all within reach. One article is a pool of thin, black fabric.
A blindfold? Alarming enough—but the other items are seared onto my psyche even if I don’t dwell on their purpose for now.
An unlit candle.
A pair of metal handcuffs, lined with black leather.
And lastly, a knife, sharpened and ready. Maxim grasps the weapon first, testing the weight against his palm.
“Do you know when I first knew it?” he wonders against my scalp. “That you were mine? Do you?” His finger returns to my jaw, urging me closer with a beckoning caress. “It was that first night you climaxed. Do you remember?”
I do, and my throat goes dry at the memory.
“It’s not the fact that you got off that made me consider snapping your fucking neck right then and there.” His thumb teases the throat in question, tracing the hollow of it as I suck in air, too enthralled by his words to release it. “I could feel it…your greedy cunt gripping me tight. For the first time, fucking wasn’t satisfying an urge, no more intimate than pissing or breathing. Your body wanted more than a fuck, wringing every ounce it could from me.”
The awe in his tone resonates down to my core. Deep inside, muscles clench in response, my brain buzzing.
“You don’t understand it.” He looks down at his hands and curls them into fists. “What it feels like to go your entire life satisfying those primal fucking urges out of necessity and nothing more. Before you, I rated the quality of sex based on how efficiently I could get it over with. How much blood I could draw and gasps I could wring from the whore beneath me just to know…I was still there. Still alive. Still connected to my body. Pleasure didn’t matter. Lust was a mere byproduct of biology. I was always in control. But that night with you…” His lips purse as he lowers his hand to his glistening cock. “You forced me to feel it, didn’t you?”
His eyes cut up to mine accusingly.
“You made me see you. Even now, at the edge, when I can feel myself so fucking close to slipping. When all I should crave is to go numb. To rage, and maim, and kill.You…” He laughs in disbelief, shaking his head. The manic gleam in his eye reassures me despite how my heart seizes up. The terror is still there, building in my blood, but that one, searing expression keeps me from succumbing to it.
Because it means he’s still here in this moment. Still Maxim.
And he reaches for me like a lifeline, his nails biting into my skin, sealing in his possession.
“I still feel you,” he admits. “Like no one else. So hear me now—”A searing pain in my ear is my only warning as he bites down over the sensitive lobe. “Mine,” he rasps. “You were made for me. And I will ensure the world knows it. No matter the fucking cost.”
