Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
He screws me senseless until I scream so loud, if Zoya didn’t know where I disappeared to, she does now.
“Say my name, Doc. Scream it. Let everyone know who is fucking you.”
A snippet of defiance blisters through me as I strive to keep my moans generic. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate how well Maksim fucks. He fucks like a god. I’d just rather he be the only one who knows what I sound like when I come.
“Fucking say it.”
He pulls at my hair, tugging the roots away from the scalp, but I can’t get enough. I love how filthy he’s making me feel. How unhinged.
“Say. It!”
He slams into me over and over again until his name rips from my throat in a long, mangled roar and I collapse onto his chest from exhaustion.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Doc.”
Consistent, dull pounding wakes me every day. Today is no different. It is just the location of the thud, thud, thud that’s changed. My head is demanding more sleep, but the throbbing pulse is several inches lower than my temples.
It is between my legs, and the delicious ache rushes memories of the event I was undertaking before I collapsed from exhaustion to the forefront of my mind.
Touching.
Groping.
More orgasms than I can count.
I consummated my vows as if they were legitimate instead of the arrangement they are.
I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. I knew my heart wouldn’t survive a second in Maksim’s presence, so why did I expect anything different from my body? I guess I could excuse it on the fact my body usually demands less. It is the vessel of my heart and brain. It never gets a say in any decisions I make.
I can’t say that anymore.
It wanted Maksim almost as much as my heart did.
My tongue briefly skims over a delicious salty palette when I wet my lips. It is only the quickest sample, but it heightens my senses as rapidly as the fullness between my legs grows.
I open my eyes before snapping them shut again.
They were barely open for a second, but it was long enough to announce to Maksim that I am awake. His cock—that is still inside me—thickens as he brushes off a strand of hair that fell across my eye.
“I’d let you continue sleeping if I could, Doc.”
As his gravelly tone brings me out of my zombie state, the horror of the situation smacks into me.
I fell asleep on him after he awarded me the best sex of my life.
Was it before he came?
After?
Did I drool on him?
When I inch back, too horrified by the possibility not to check, Maksim’s groan rolls through me. “Easy. If you want me to keep my word to Zoya, you need to quit wiggling. A man can only take so much teasing.”
Confusion rolls through me. “Zoya is here?”
I stop scanning the living room of Maksim’s suite when his growl announces he wouldn’t even allow my best friend to see me in such a compromising position. I’m somewhat dressed. My skirt is just now a belt, and my bra is a midriff top.
“No. Zoya messaged your phone not long after you crashed.” He nudges his head to my phone, which is dumped on a side table next to the sofa we got freaky on. “I messaged her back so she wouldn’t worry.”
I gulp hard when I notice the time on my phone.
I napped for more than a few minutes.
I’ve been sleeping for almost three hours.
My eyes bulge when I flick through the planner in my head and land on an important task I was meant to undertake this evening.
“I have to go.” Maksim’s groan when I dismount him makes me want to forget the promises I made. If they were pledged to anyone but Zoya, I would. As my skirt slips down my thighs, covering me, I snatch up my shirt and place it on before diving for my phone. “I’m meant to be preparing pre-club… snacks… and… cocktails.” The gasping delay between my words is easily excusable. Maksim is naked from the waist down. His cock—still sheathed by a condom that exposes he mercifully finished before I collapsed from exhaustion—is impressive enough to hang heavy on his thigh, and unlike earlier, his chest is exposed since the buttons on his dress shirt are undone. “No undershirt today?”
I realize I spoke my inner monologue out loud when Maksim’s eyes stray to a white A-frame shirt dumped near the pants he kicked off during our escapades, and he says, “I knew you had plans, so I didn’t want you to have a sleep crinkle in your cheek.”
My throat dries when I take in the ridges and bumps of his stomach a second after his smooth pecs. “I guess it’s lucky I slept on your chest and not your stomach.”
His smirk reveals he appreciates my underhanded compliment, but he keeps my focus where it needs to be, which also exposes he understands Zoya’s importance in my life. “Doc?”