Page 110 of Scarred Angel

I kiss him, not caring about the shaving cream smearing across my lips. “Aunt Leni said there’s nothing on the books with our names on it. No contracts. These people were rogue but somehow tied to Balterra.”

His thumb drags along my cheek, gentle compared to the storm in his eyes, and his jaw flexes. “That’s not enough for me. Maybe that bastard Casper has more intel.”

The bitter sting of betrayal claws up my throat, and I feel it rise behind my eyes.

“Don’t.” Maksim cups the back of my neck, pulling me in until his forehead rests against mine. “Don’t you shed a single tear for him. He doesn’t deserve your sadness.” His voice drops to a cold whisper. “And I’ll make sure he understands just how badly he fucked up.”

I say nothing and nod, tipping his chin again, needing the distraction.

Another clean stroke. And another. One more. Then—shit.

A small drop of blood wells at the edge of his jaw.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” The razor clatters against the counter as I grab a towel and try to blot it. “I didn’t mean?—”

“That the best you got?”

Before I can blink, his arm hooks around my waist. The world tilts upside down, and then I’m over his shoulder. The slap he lands on my ass is brutally perfect, ripping the breath from my lungs.

“You draw blood,” he growls, “you pay for it.”

“That was barely a nick!” I’m laughing, breathless, clinging to him as he stalks us into the bedroom.

“Then you should have slit my throat if you didn’t want to be handled.”

He drops me on the bed, and I bounce.

“Joke’s on you, Ruso.” I lean back on my elbows, thighs falling open. “That’s exactly what I want. Your hands on me, in me…everywhere.”

Maksim grins wickedly and lets the towel fall to the floor. I’m naked soon after. He crawls up my body with torturous patience,dragging his mouth along my stomach, up my ribs…purposefully ignoring my pussy, where I’m throbbing for him most.

“Turn around,” he orders, the grin he wore just seconds ago wiped from his face. “And hold on to that headboard.”

I run my tongue along the edge of my teeth and arch a brow. “Am I being punished?”

“Now.”

My knuckles whiten when I grip the edge of the dark wood, propped on my knees, Maksim behind me. His fingers skim my ass cheeks, my back, and down my inner thighs. He’s teasing me, leaving a trail of flames with each stroke.

“Are you going to touch me,reallytouch me, or do I have to make myself scream?”

He chuckles, tone laced in warning. His palm slides down my back again, agonizingly slow.

Then—crack.

I jolt forward, a sharp cry ripping out of me. The sting spreads across my skin, fiery and delicious.

“Now, you're going to count,” he says, voice calm as the command threads through every syllable.

Fuck, yes.

My lips part, trembling. “One.”

He does it again, harder.

“Two,” I gasp, the word barely holding shape.

“Do you know why?” he asks, hand resting on the curve of my ass, soothing the burn he just left.