Page 112 of Scarred Angel

And I do. Loud, raw, and completely undone as my body clenches around him, everything spiraling until I can’t tell where the pain ends and my pleasure begins.

I collapse forward, my chest pressed to the sheets. I’m still shaking, skin still humming where his hand left prints, mixing with the deep ache between my thighs. I can't catch my breath. But to be honest, I don’t want to. I want to live in this moment just a little longer, replaying every touch, every gasp, and every filthy word.

Maksim doesn’t pull out right away. He stays buried inside me, one hand on my hip, the other sliding up to the back ofmy neck. The possessive man from moments ago is gone. He's something else now. His touch softer.

“Breathe,” he murmurs. “In and out, Ptichka.”

I draw shaky breaths as he leans and presses a kiss to my cheek. The scrape of the stubble left unshaved, the heat of him...it’s all too much and still not enough all at once.

“You okay?” he asks with a tenderness to his voice that makes my eyes water.

“I think you broke me, Maxy,” I manage to say through short huffs, lips curving into a smile even though I can barely move.

He chuckles against my shoulder. “You’re still talking. You’ll live.”

I laugh and bite the corner of my lip as my eyes flutter open.

“Debatable.”

Maksim eases out of me slowly, and I hiss at the sensitivity. His hands find my waist, turning me to face him. Only now, when I look at that same dark gaze that unraveled me just moments ago, it’s tinted with something else.

Love?

I brush my thumb over the thin streak of leftover shaving cream on his jaw and smile. “No more hiding.”

He shakes his head, lips brushing my palm before pulling me against him. “No more.”

I lean back into his chest, breathing him in. The pillow smells like my shampoo now, and my smile deepens when I spot my hair tie and lip gloss on the nightstand. Maksim's made room for me here, in his home, his bed, his arms.

And maybe, finally, in his heart.

Forty-Four

VALENTINA

The smell of burning rubber and asphalt deserves to be bottled. I’ll never get enough of it.

I draw a deep breath and feel that familiar rush already buzzing through my veins. Being back on the track after everything with Balterra and Casper feels like reclaiming a piece of myself they tried to destroy.

And despite the flicker of wariness, I need this, need the high that hits the second my engine roars to life. There’s nothing like it. Well, second only to Maksim. Who, at the moment, is a little…busy.

It’s a bad fucking day to be Casper.

I told myself I wouldn’t let the past or the friendship I thought we had get in the way of what needs to be done. Maybe if it had only been me, maybe I could’ve found a sliver of pity left for him. But my baby sister? No. That’s a line he crossed that he can never come back from.

“Ready?”

Remi dangles a set of keys in front of me before dropping them into my palm.

The candy-red Supra gleams under the streetlight. One of her masterpieces. She took it from a shit box to a beast. Sure, it’s not my baby, Ivy, but any car Remi builds is one I trust to take me to the finish line.

“Always. Still, it feels like everyone’s staring, like they know I had something to do with Balterra disappearing. What will they say when I show up here with my car? But giving her up is not an option, neither is a new paint job.”

“They always stare,” Remi says. “It’s the price of being a woman behind the wheel instead of one draped over the hood.”

I shrug. She’s not wrong. It wasn’t easy, but we busted our asses to get respect on this track. Still, half these assholes only ever see us as a pretty face or a hole to fuck. That’s why beating them always tastes that much sweeter.

I squeeze the keys in my hand, determined to let the world slip away for just one night, at least until I’m in his arms again. But as I round the trunk, a loud thump stops me dead.