Page 133 of Scarred Angel

Her walls tighten around me, gripping, fluttering. My rhythm falters just a fraction.

“Valentina…” Her name breaks from me. “I—fuck?—”

I’m losing it. Losing every ounce of control.

She feels it too. I know she does.

Her hips roll back against mine, pushing me closer to the edge. Her breath fogs the glass as she braces for another thrust, another squeeze of my hand around her throat.

“Please—come with me,” she pleads, voice shaking.

I slam into her again, hard enough that the desk groans.

My forehead drops to her shoulder. My grip in her hair tightens. My breath hits her skin in ragged huffs. The confession rises, uninvited, burning the roof of my mouth as I whisper in her ear, my voice caught on words I’ve never said to anyone.

“I lo?—”

I slam my jaw shut, heaving against her back.

She doesn’t hear it. Or maybe she does.

“Maksim…”

“Valentina—I’m—fuck, I’m right there?—”

She trembles violently, body clamping around me so tight I swear she’s going to tear me apart. Her orgasm rips through her, and it drags me straight into mine.

I crush her against the desk, driving into her one last time as everything inside me shatters.

I stay there, breathing hard, forehead pressed to her back, hand still wrapped around her throat, the unspoken words sitting like fire on my tongue.

So close.

So fucking close.

Fifty-Two

VALENTINA

The last of the patrons is wrapping up their session while a new employee sweeps the shell casings under each stall. I watch from the window of my office, the same one I was bent over and pressed against just minutes ago.

Thank God for one-way tints.

I feel Maksim’s warmth before he even touches me. Then his chest settles against my back as he drops a kiss on my shoulder and pulls me flush to him, arms banding around my waist.

“You know,” he says, “I’m never going to get the image of you on this desk out of my head.”

I melt into him. “I’d be offended if you did.”

His hands slide lower, fingertips tracing the waistband of my pants, light but restless, as if he’s fighting the urge to fold me back over. Despite my body still humming, I know that I won’t say no.

“Valentina…” There’s something in his voice I don’t hear often. Hesitation.

I turn in his arms until my back meets the cool glass, and I look up at him. His eyes are on mine, conflicted, fierce, and soft all at once. Maybe I’m still riding the high of my orgasm, mymind still a little hazy, but I’m certain I heard what he’d started to say.

And for now, that’s all I need.

I rise to my toes, nails teasing the nape of his neck. “Shut up and kiss me.”