Page 138 of The Maddest Obsession (Made 2)

He groaned.

The kiss deepened, and I grinded against his erection. I was so turned-on my vision grew hazy, my blood burned, and I was sure I was getting his pants wet by rubbing against him.

“God, I want you,” I breathed into his mouth.

He made a tortured noise in his throat and pulled back. A thumb ran across my cheek, his eyes conflicted. “Say it again.”

I rocked my hips against him, desperation coating my words. “I want you so badly.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“Because . . .” I sighed, searching for the reason and then just letting my first thought escape. “Because it’s always been you.”

I might not have ever realized it before, but as the words left my mouth, I knew I meant every one of them.

Satisfaction, dark and lazy, flared in his eyes. His lips pressed against my ear, his voice sending a shiver down my spine.

“You win, malyshka.”

I didn’t even get to experience the pleasure of my rare victory over him, because with a rip of my panties, he pushed inside me so deeply it tore a gasp from my throat. I dug my nails into his shoulders.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he breathed.

By now, I’d gotten used to the way he fucked—so hard and unforgiving. Slightly selfish yet somehow still attentive. As he carried me to the bedroom, holding me tightly, still deep inside me, he stopped to kiss me for a full minute on the way, and I knew I loved it. The sex was fast and rough, but afterward, he made up for it with his head between my legs until I was begging him to stop.

The next evening, while waiting to cross the street, I got a text from an unknown number.

My dinner is late.

Schoolgirl giddiness filled me at the fact he was texting me, even though I’d let him hold me down and screw the lights out of me last night.

Me: I’m sorry, who is this?

Christian: Funny.

Me: Todd?

Christian: I’m going to spank your ass.

Me: Promise?

Soon after that exchange, I found him sitting on the couch with some papers on the coffee table before him. I ran my hands down his chest, flashing him my new sparkly crimson nails.

“What do you think?”

“I love them, malyshka.” He grabbed my hand and kissed it.

That was when I decided I loved having this man’s approval, no matter how confusing his position in my life may be.

The next day, he came home, paused, then picked up the “Russian for Dummies” book sitting on the coffee table. He raised a brow at me.

I returned the look from my spot on the couch. “How else am I going to eavesdrop on all your phone calls, malysh?”

It was the male form of the endearment he called me. A half-smile pulled on his lips as he dropped the book back on the table.

I stood and wrapped my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his chest. “I’ve been waiting for you to get home all day.”

He made a noise of contentment. “What are you doing to me?” His voice was serious and slightly accented. I loved that timbre so much I rose to my toes and tried to taste it on his lips.