Maxim: Red Bratva Billionaires

by Miller, Coco

  Wait a minute...is Maxim in the mob? I don’t know why this thought has just come to me, but it just has, and it doesn’t seem that far fetched to me.

  “What was all that about?” I ask.

  Maxim grabs my arm, walking me to the outside of the bar. He walks me around the corner and lets go of me.

  “Who was that?” he asks.

  “An old high school boyfriend. Doesn’t matter. Why did you speak to him that way? Why did you hurt him?”

  “Because he was disrespecting you.”

  “That was my business.”

  “You are my business.”

  I wish that were true, but I can’t allow those possessive words to overshadow what I’ve just witnessed tonight. Maxim is dangerous. Probably a lot more dangerous than Tasha knows.

  “Are you in the mob?” I ask him and then slap a hand over my mouth. I can’t believe I just asked him that.

  He laughs and then responds in his thick Russian accent. “That sounds a little what you say... racist? I’m big, I’m Russian, so I must be a criminal? I must be Bratva?”

  I shrug. “You’re avoiding the question. Are you in the Russian mob or whatever you call it…the Bratva?”

  His eyes darken and he leans in closer. “I don’t want to see that man anywhere near you ever again, or any other man for that matter.”

  I cock a brow. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.”

  “Where’s your wife?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “Doesn’t matter.” He says, his eyes softening just a bit from his recent fight.

  “You’re a train wreck. We both are. You’re married and you need to leave me alone. You have no right to make demands. If I want to fuck Trevor in the middle of that bar tonight, you should have no say in whether I do or not.”

  “That depends if you want him breathing while you fuck him.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Don’t push me, Tantsor.”

  “Leave me alone.”

  He steps close, raising his hand to caress my cheek. “I fucking can’t.”

  My insides tingle and I’m wet. Just like that. One look, one touch, one word and I’m ready to repeat the other night with him. My body is a traitorous bitch. Why am I putty in his hands? Why can’t I say no to him?

  “Please stop.”

  “Tasha and I aren’t what you think. I can’t explain it. Please let me have you tonight and I will,” he begs.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Give me one more night with you and I’ll explain,” he says with his eyes full of sincerity.

  Unsure of what to say, I simply nod and agree. One night with him and then it’s over. I can’t do this anymore. He says he’ll explain, but what could he possibly say to me to fix the mess I’ve made. I mean this is my sister’s husband. I need to put a stop to the madness and not sleep with him ever again. After tonight.

  Am I being selfish? Probably, but I just can’t help it. I can’t stop the need swimming through my veins. It runs deep, and every time he stares in my direction I yearn for him. Plus I want to at least give him the opportunity to explain whatever it is he feels he needs to explain. Why he treats me like I’m his. Why he acts like his marriage means nothing. Why I can’t stop gazing into his eyes.

  Ugh. What could he possibly explain except that we’re both bad people. That we’re both committing a major sin. That we’re doing the unthinkable. That together we are falling for one another, and we shouldn’t be.

  Well, I’m definitely falling for him. I know it’s crazy. It’s insane really. I shouldn’t even be thinking about this man ever, and yet here I am drinking him in. Feasting on the attention he shows me. Yearning for just one slight touch from him, and praying he does it again and again.

  I know I said I didn’t believe in love at first sight, or love at all really, but what if I was wrong? What if it’s all real? What if there is one person out there for each of us, and mine just happens to be unavailable in the worst way. What is my life going to be like now? Will I always yearn for him at family get-togethers and avoid Christmas dinners for fear of running into him?

  Will I never be able to find anyone else? Will I forever be alone, living on stolen moments over family photos of my sister and her husband on vacations. And what if they start a family?

  Oh my God, I can’t do this. While Tasha and I may not be the closest of sisters, she is my blood, and I want to be sure that I’m not sabotaging whatever relationship I have left with her over “some” dick. Well to be totally fair, it is some really good dick.

  I think about the way he pulled Trevor off of me, and my insides flip flop like a fish. Like I don’t know how to act right now. Every part of that encounter was sexy as hell. He was so calm and collected. So cool and suave. Like he knew Trevor couldn’t hurt him even if he tried. It was amazing to watch, and I hate to admit it, but it turned me on more than anything. I couldn’t turn away no matter how hard I tried. Just the thought of Maxim coming to my rescue sends a chill across my skin and down to my core.

  But then I see my sister’s face in my mind and I realize this is madness. I can’t sleep with him again. No, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll meet with him tonight, and ask him to explain. He needs to explain whatever it is, and maybe I need to hear it, but then I will go back to my room, and try to put this whole mess behind me.

  I deserve an explanation, but Tasha deserves the chance to be happy in her marriage as well. No sex for me tonight. It’s settled.

  I don’t care what he tries.

  Chapter Nine

  We head home after enduring another obligatory hour and a half of hanging out with old friends. I enjoyed seeing Kelly and the girls, but am happier to be heading home. I’ve grown since high school, at least I think I have, and have moved on from our days of cutting class and smoking in the bathroom.

  The car ride home is an intense one. My whole pep talk with myself about not sleeping with Maxim tonight flies out the window as soon as he pulls out of the parking lot of the bar. Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m not a very good person, but why would he feel so right if it were so bad?

  I can feel his intense, all-consuming, energy vibrating all around me. In the backseat of the car, I press my thighs together trying to alleviate the feelings of want deep within me.

  I watch him closely as he drives through the streets of downtown, heading to my mother’s house. He swerves through the road as if he’s on a mission to get there as fast as humanly possible, and right now I want him to get there.

  I don’t know where or how we will be together tonight, but I don’t care. I need him. He parks the car, opening my door for me.

  “The shed in an hour,” he whispers close to my ear.

  I nod and head inside.

  Up in my room, my nerves are all over the place. I have an hour to contemplate whether or not I’m going to go through with this. I pace. I hum. I watch ten minutes of a bad movie, listen to Beyonce’s song Best Thing I Never Had, and then I throw caution to the wind and prepare myself to meet up with Maxim.

  I sneak to the bottom of the staircase. The house is quiet, and I round the corner to the kitchen and slip out the back door. I stumble through the yard as I see the shed. Opening the door, I glance around to make sure no one is watching. Once inside, Maxim greets me. He rushes to me, sweeping me into his arms and planting his lips to mine.

  “I’ve wanted you all night,” he says, breaking the kiss.

  My mind is already not operating correctly. We’re supposed to be talking. He’s supposed to be explaining things. Instead his hand slides along the inside of my thigh.

  “You’re still wearing dress.”

  Most of the time Maxim speaks using perfect English, but I love how he forgets to use articles or conjunctions in his sentences when he is seriously turned on. It’s one of his tell-tale signs.

  “Yes.” I exhale harshly.

  He smiles with approval and then says, “I have a surpr
ise.”

  “Okay.”

  “You trust me right?” His eyes speak volumes and I think about my answer for a moment.

  “Yes.” I nod.

  “Good.” He grabs both my hands and walks me to the back of the shed.

  My insides light up, and excitement begins swimming through my veins as I recognize what I’m seeing. At what’s about to happen. Maxim is for sure kinky, and I think I’m about to experience another level of his kink tonight.

  A rope lays on a wooden table and he grabs it with one hand. He binds the rope around my hands and secures a knot. Hoisting me up, he hangs my joined hands on a hook used for tools. My toes barely reach the floor. He takes a step back, his eyes wandering over my dress.

  Slowly he lifts the dress up and over my head, but it is still around my arms as well. I couldn’t move the upper half of my body if I tried.

  I have no bra on, and the sight has Maxim blowing out a slow, controlled breath. He takes another step back and turns around to retrieve something off the table. When he swivels back around, I see the sharp, metal cutting shears in his hand.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he says calmly.

  I take a deep breath and keep my eyes on his.

  In nothing but my small, red thong, Maxim brings the shears closer.

  “I can’t wait to be inside you, Tantsor.” He snaps the shears open then closed again. “Are you afraid?”

  I shake my head no, knowing he won’t hurt me.

  He drags the cold metal down my leg as he hisses a long, line of Russian curse words. The bulge in his pants gets bigger, harder as he stares at me.

  “I have you at my mercy. I’m in complete control. That doesn’t frighten you?”

  “Should I be afraid of you?” My insides tingle.

  “You think I’m Bratva don’t you?”

  He opens the shears, bringing it very close to my body and my breath hitches. It isn’t fear that has me reacting this way, it’s something else. It’s knowing soon he will act, and his body will come alive with need, and I will be the only one to be able to satisfy him. That’s what really turns me on about him. Watching him lose control when he’s with me.

  He runs one of the sharp edges up my thigh and then clips them shut, capturing the lace of my panties. Then, he moves to the other side, cutting my panties away from my body until I’m bare for him.

  He sucks in a breath. “Fuck, Katrina. You’re so beautiful.”

  He makes me feel sexy and bold with the way his eyes heat as he watches every movement I make.

  “You want to fuck me, don’t you?”

  “All fucking night,” he husks out.

  “You want to pound me real good, huh?” I’m so daring when I’m with him.

  “Christ, little one, you’re making my cock so hard.”

  “Why don’t you show me how hard you are,” I say, feeling the rush of wetness between my legs intensify.

  He pulls down his jeans, bringing his boxers along with them. His angry cock juts out from his body, it’s wet at the tip, and it’s aiming right at me.

  “Like a fucking rock.” He runs a hand over his length. It’s beautiful.

  “I want that shit so deep inside of me.” I start to squirm. “Give it to me, Maxim.”

  He steps closer, the shears no longer in his hands.

  “I won’t ever stop giving it to you.”

  He rushes forward, wrapping both hands around my waist. His hands dive further down, to where he holds me up so he can slam his hardness into my soaking wet vagina.

  I scream from the entry. “Aaaah!”

  Big hands grip my ass as he pummels into me. The sensation is unreal. His engorged dick spears right through me, making me wetter by the second. It feels insanely good.

  His lips reach my neck as he sucks along my collarbone. “Watching you all the time makes me so hard,” he groans out.

  “Yes, just like that–” I urge him to continue.

  “I hate being here and not being able to have you whenever I want.”

  I thrust my hips up, while he continues his vicious assault on my wanting pussy. I want this. All of this. I’d never in my life been fucked so good or so hard before. He is all man. Like a man who can’t control himself around me, and I love it.

  I need him with me. I need this man to be able to fuck me whenever he wants and me him. I hate the fact that he’s married to my sister. The thought almost makes me ill. They are not a good match. He should be with me.

  As I push thoughts of the two of them down, I try to get back into the moment with him. With this man who I’m falling so hard for. This is all so wrong. Why can it feel so right and be so incredibly wrong? Life isn’t fair.

  Just the thought of this brings a tear to my eye. This man is pummeling my pussy, making me feel more alive than I ever have before, but I can’t have him. He’s not mine. Our relationship is a constant dual experience of pain and pleasure.

  He pounds inside me, and I moan and groan not caring who can hear me. Let the whole damn world hear, I no longer care. I want everyone to know how badly I want this man.

  With my hands tied above my head, the need to touch him grows. I want to pull and yank on his hair like he’s doing to mine. I want to dig my nails into his back, mark him as mine. I’ve never wanted to touch someone so bad as I do him.

  “Fuck me, Maxim. Fuck me, harder,” I beg. Praying that this won’t be the last time he’s inside of me but knowing that it probably should be.

  His fingers fly to my clit, rubbing and pulling along it. Maxim is a fuck machine right now, there’s no stopping him. And I don’t want him to stop. I want him to screw me forever. It feels so good. His thickness slamming into me. His one hand squeezing my ass so hard, I’m sure I’ll be bruised tomorrow but I love it. The roughness of his thrusts. The grunts he makes with each pull of my sensitive clit with his fingers.

  Oh, my orgasm is close. It is so damn close.

  The tingling is happening, and I want to slow it down and speed it up all at once. I want him to come with me, and for us not to come yet too. So many feelings and thoughts run through me, and then I just can’t take it anymore.

  “Maxim, I’m going to come,” I cry.

  He speeds up, and bites down on my neck as he does.

  “Come for me, Katrina.”

  Bright colors come alive behind my lids and then fade just as fast. My orgasm rolls through me, bursting through each part of my body. He murmurs my name as his release unfolds, rumbling to life.

  Unhooking my arms, he holds me in his as I tremble. “Are you cold?”

  I shake my head, pressing myself further into his chest. “No.”

  He sets me down, picking up the scraps of my panties. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy you new pair.”

  In a frantic moment the only thought swirling through my mind, post orgasmic bliss, shoots out of my mouth.

  “When?”

  “When will I buy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “What about my sister?”

  He frowns for just a moment and not a second longer. I wonder to myself what is going through his head. Does he love Tasha? Is he falling in love with me?

  “It’s not what you think,” he says.

  “What is it then?” I pull my dress back down over my body.

  He pulls up his jeans as he shakes his head, his dark hair falling in his eyes. “It’s complicated. Please don’t trouble your pretty little mind with it.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Now I’m pissed. “You promised you’d explain.”

  “It’s better that I don’t.”

  “But you–” He places his finger over my mouth. Silencing me with a shake of his head.

  “Do you love her?” I ask, praying that he’ll answer no.

  He kisses my nose, running a hand down the side of my cheek. “Let’s get back into the house before anyone notices we’re gone.”

  My wide eyes soften as he leads me back to
the side door of the house. I hold my sliced panties in my hand and dispose of them when I enter my bedroom.

  My mind drifts back to our encounter. His lips all over me felt so right. The deep burning in his eyes as he fucked me will be something that will haunt my dreams forever, but it’s clear that I should not think about him anymore. It was a two-time thing. Once in the woods, and once in the shed. No more allowed. He’s not serious. He’s never going to leave her for me.

  Once inside my room, I walk to the en suite bathroom and shower. I let the hot water relax my muscles as I think about my actions. Am I a bad person? I think I already know the answer to that question. Fucking my sister’s husband in the back shed is not what good girls do.

  I’m not even sure I can explain myself. Other than the fact that I’ve never felt this way before. That this need for him isn’t going away. In fact, it’s only intensifying.

  What should I do?

  Every time I make a decision on walking away, there’s something about our connection that pulls me back in. I want more than anything to tell him how I feel, because that’s what a grown woman would do. Confess. Admit to her feelings. Then let the chips fall where they may.

  But then I think of my sister and ask myself what purpose would confessing serve? Tasha is married to Maxim and there’s no changing that. Regardless of what I think about their marriage, he belongs to her. Plain and simple.

  The trouble is, I want him more now than I did a few hours ago. What woman wouldn’t want him?

  His confident demeanor.

  His powerful body.

  His sexy eyes.

  His huge, thick, wonderful dick.

  Yeah, I’m in trouble. Big fucking trouble.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day I try to keep my distance from Maxim. By any and all means. Call me whatever, but it is imperative I don’t go anywhere near him. I may just not be able to stop myself from throwing my arms around his neck, kissing him like I own him, and begging him to leave my sister.