Page 79 of Scarred Angel

Maksim’s gaze lifts, scanning the reflection of the mirrored walls behind me, and he starts thrusting harder.

My eyes blur with tears as he drives deeper, my throat tightening, body trembling, and my pulse matching every rough push.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful,” he rasps. “Surrounded by my little bird on her knees, letting me fuck her face.”

His words ignite something primal in me. I hollow my cheeks and take him deeper, letting him use me, craving the bruises he’ll leave. The proof that I’m his, inside and out.

“Don’t you fucking swallow, Kolibri. I want to see every drop inside that pretty mouth.” His voice is ragged, the veins in his neck straining as he hovers on the edge.

“Oh, fuck.” The sound breaks from his throat as he spills into me, every pulse filling my mouth until it’s dripping from the corners. His hand finds my chin, tilting my face up as his chest heaves. There’s a grin there, possessive, satisfied, as his gaze drifts over the mess he’s made.

“You’re mine,” he says, voice lower now. “Show me.”

I hold his stare as I let his cum slide down my throat, then catch an errant drop with my finger, bring it back to my lips, and taste him again.

“Always yours.”

Maksim drops to his knees and kisses me, slow and reverent. “What was it you said back there? Something about you sitting on my face and ruining it.”

I shut my eyes with a grin and let his lips trail down my neck, drifting behind my ear, making me squirm.

“One hundred of me,” I whisper.

The next thing I know, he lifts me and damn near throws me onto his shoulders, lowering me to his mouth. His tongue licks a slow trail, lapping at my arousal, then circling my clit. A rolling moan rises from my bruised throat, and I rock my hips and tip my head back, meeting my own gaze in the glass. My eyes are wild, my lips parted, and a shimmer of sweat dots my forehead. He’s watching me watch myself. Every sound and every tremor is magnified by the mirrored walls, multiplying us into infinity.

I press my palms to the mirror, breath fogging the glass as I move against him, faster, harder, not just his mouth but his whole goddamn face, every inch of it glistening. My cries echo around us, bouncing off the walls of the maze as I begin to shatter.

“Maksim…I’m—” The words break apart when his hands clamp around my hips, guiding me through every thrust and every desperate grind. His grip is punishing, possessive, and I give into it completely.

“Fuck, yes,” I gasp as release tears through me. But he doesn’t stop. He’s relentless, crazed, still chasing me through every aftershock until I can barely breathe. More bruises in the making, and I fucking love it.

Thirty-Two

VALENTINA

Icollapse beside him, staring up at the ceiling as my breathing slows.

“What if there are cameras in here?” I ask suddenly, scanning corners for a lens or flash of red light.

“Nothing we can’t bury with cash,” he says easily, “or missing body parts.”

“Of course.” I laugh under my breath, propping myself on an elbow to study the sharp lines of his face, softened by the afterglow, his skin still wet with my cum. I reach out, tracing my thumb along his cheek.

“What are you going to do with all this?”

Maksim catches my wrist and grins darkly as he licks my finger. “Save it for later.”

He sits up and tugs me with him, glancing at his watch.

“We have to go.”

“Home?”

“You’ll see.”

“Ah, so fucking me in a mirror maze wasn’t tonight’s end goal.”

He pulls my shirt from where he’d halfway tucked it into his back pocket and slips it over my head.