Ruthless Stranger by Maggie Cole

24

Aspen

Maksim leaves,and I can't fall back to sleep. I shower and put on a black silk robe he bought me at some point in the last few days. I'm drying my hair when he arrives home. I turn off the dryer.

He leans down and pecks me on the lips. "How do you feel?"

"Better. My headache is gone. Whatever you gave me seemed to work. Plus, I've gotten an entire glass of water down."

"Do you think you can eat?"

"Maybe toast?"

"All right. I'll make some." He kisses the top of my head and leaves.

I finish my hair and go out to the kitchen. I sit on the barstool.

"Just in time." Maksim sets a plate of toast in front of me then puts his plate of eggs and toast next to mine. He comes around the island.

I take a bite of the bread. My stomach is still a bit queasy, but I'm hoping food might help settle it.

Maksim puts his arm around me, and I lean into his chest. "I hated not being with you last night."

I glance up and confess, "It really hurt you didn't take me."

Remorse covers his face. "Can I admit something to you?"

I sit up straighter. "Yes."

He hesitates then says, "You know that woman I told you about in Vegas? The one I said wouldn't love me?"

My stomach twists. "Yes."

"For eleven years, we were on and off. She isn't a bad person, but her past isn't as innocent as yours. In some ways, being with her was easier. I didn't ever question whether she would be able to handle my truth if she knew it."

His admission is a hard pill to swallow. It makes me wonder if a part of him thinks she is a better match for him, even if it's deep down. A nervous stirring occurs in my chest. There's so much about Maksim and his truth I'm still trying to process. I want to talk to him about it, but I don't want him to think I'm going to run from him.

He strokes my cheek and softly says, "I've offended you."

"No. Offend isn't the right word."

"Then what is?"

I clear my throat then take a sip of water. I avoid Maksim, trying to figure out how to have a conversation without him feeling like I'm judging him or wondering if his ex is a better woman for him than me.

He puts his hand on mine. "Aspen, can we go back to you and me? Before I screwed up, we weren't worried about what we said to each other."

I turn in my chair. "Okay. I am nervous. I don't have anyone to talk to about all the things you've told me. I want to discuss it with you and sort out my thoughts, but I'm afraid you'll take what I say the wrong way. Or worse, you might think I'm not able to handle things, and you made a mistake telling me your truth."

"I see." He stares at me for a moment. "Finish eating then let's talk. I promise not to get upset."

I obey, and we eat in silence. My stomach flips but not from nausea. What if he does think she's a better fit for him than me?

Maksim told me he loved me, and I don't doubt it. Yet, it doesn't remove my insecurity from his admission.

When we finish, he takes my hand, leads me to the couch, and pulls me onto his lap. He waits for me to speak.

"I thought I knew where I stood on certain issues, and life was black and white, but I feel like I've moved into a gray area."

"Yes. You cannot be with me and not be. You're too good to move from one end of the spectrum to the other. And the things I have done..." He trails off for a moment, and his jaw clenches. "The things I cannot guarantee you I won't do again, represent everything you were clear on before meeting me."

He will kill again. I need to be prepared and okay with it.

"How do you know this is what is going through my head?"

His thumb strokes my spine. "When my mother was kidnapped and held hostage, everything changed for me. The morals my father had instilled in us no longer existed. I was a torturer and murderer. It is not anything my father or mother raised me to be." There's disappointment in his eyes. I wish I could remove it and replace it with pride so he didn't have to feel this way about himself.

I quickly insist, "It wasn't your fault."

His voice is stern. "The circumstances do not erase the sin, my krasotka. And the choices I have made in the last twenty-plus years were my decisions. While there are reasons I can justify for every man I have killed, who Zamir did not direct me to, I still broke my old moral code."

I didn't have any expected answer from Maksim, but his response makes his truth even more real. I suspected he had killed men, besides Lorenzo, not under Zamir's orders, but hearing him confirm my suspicion increases my pulse.

"What would make you kill someone?"

He doesn't hesitate. "Survival. Sometimes revenge."

My blood goes cold. I shiver and get goose bumps.

Maksim's eyes darken. "Anyone who comes after my family or our women suffers the consequences. We don't kill for reasons some men do. Money or other material possessions are never a motive. And our businesses are all legitimate. Every penny we have, we earned through our hard work and sweat."

"Is this your new moral code?"

He sighs. "If you want to call it that."

If anyone would have told me a month ago that I'd be in love with a man who's killed not one but multiple men, I wouldn't believe it. I would tell them they were crazy, and I would never condone any such thing. I'm not sure when I mentally crossed the line. Was it when I first met Maksim and could feel he was dangerous? Did his constant reminder to me about how ruthless he is move me across it over our brief encounter? Or did it occur when he told me his story?

Either way, it doesn't matter. I no longer believe what I used to. I can't, because I'm still here, with him, not wanting to be anywhere else. I have never had an urge to run from him, and I never will. I slowly say, "I'm not the person I thought I was. The fact you don't kill for possessions but only to protect those you love makes me fall deeper for you. It tells me what kind of man you are. But I can't lie to myself. If you told me you did kill for other reasons, I still would not be able to stop loving you. And I'm not sure what that makes me."

There. I said the truth I've been afraid to admit.

Maksim spins me and yanks my knees on the sides of his hips. His hands slide into my hair, and he holds my face close to his. "Do not take my sin and let it taint any part of you. I cannot live with myself if my actions cause you to despise yourself."

My heart pounds from the quick way he pulled me to him. Bergamot and cardamom grow stronger in my nostrils. "I don't want my internal confusion to cause you to regret choosing me over her." It's another admission I was scared to say out loud.

His face falls. "There has never been a choice, my krasotka. Not one moment since I met you has there been one thought I want her over you. It's always been you. And while it might have been easier for her to stomach the truth of who I am versus you, that doesn't make me wish I told her over you."

"But you said—"

"I know what I told you. I had eleven years to trust her completely. But I never did. And you..." His eyes sear into mine. He swallows hard.

"I what?" I whisper, my lips brushing against his.

His thumbs stroke my cheekbones. "I've known you for a second. Yet, I've bared every part of my ugliness to you. Instead of running, you stay. You declare your love for me and take every twisted piece of my soul and accept it. Then you tell me if I was an even more horrible man, you'd still not leave me."

"I wouldn't."

He closes his eyes. "When I think of what could have happened to you last night...with him..."

"I don't want him. I've only ever wanted you. I'm sorry, I—"

He drops his hand, sliding it under my robe and firmly palming my ass. His other hand fists my hair, and his eyes light with dark fire. He growls, "You're mine, krasotka. No other man will touch you. I will be the only one, going forward, do you understand me?"

I reply with a kiss, parting his lips with my tongue, grinding my lower body against his hardening erection.

He pulls back, breathing hard. "Answer me. I will not allow there to be any confusion on this."

"Yes, I understand."

He takes a few breaths, scanning my eyes, then lips, then back to my eyes, before sliding me off him, so I'm facing the back of the black leather couch. He spins quickly so his body is behind mine. The sound of him releasing his belt and zipper rings in my ears. The metal of his belt clangs on the wood floor.

He slides his palms between my thighs, widening me and pulling my hips toward the end of the seat so my ass is in the air. Then he bunches my silk robe and rips it off. His large hand splays on my back, pushing me into the tufts.

His erection slides into my folds, deliciously hitting my clit.

"Oh God," I moan.

He thrusts but not in me, holding me down while teasing and taunting my clit until it's so swollen, I'm sweating and begging him to release me.

"Who do you belong to?" he growls.

"You!"

"And who's the only man who touches you?" he barks, gliding his stiff shaft over my pulsing nub.

"Only you!"

"Whose cock do you want buried deep inside you?"

"Yours! Oh God...please, Maksim," I cry out.

"I'm a jealous man, my krasotka. If anyone lays a finger on you, I'll kill them. I mean it."

I whimper, on the edge of climaxing, inhaling the leather and smell of my arousal.

He grabs my hips and shimmies me over his cock, faster and faster until I'm screaming his name, and my body is trembling in ecstasy.

When I begin to slow, he slides into me in one thrust. His warm skin hits my back. He growls in my ear, "You will always be mine. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I whimper, my insides spasming against him, unable to stop as he pounds into me.

"I'm never letting you go. I won't be a fool twice."

"Oh fuck!" I scream when he hits my G-spot. I unravel like never before. Fire boils my blood, permeating my veins, and flicking across my skin.

"Krasotka!" Maksim yells and pumps his hot seed deep inside me, creating a high so euphoric, my head spins.

I collapse against the sofa, barely able to get oxygen, my one cheek resting against the leather with Maksim's breath tingling on the other.

His eyes meet mine. With labored breaths, he says, "There will be no more secrets. No lies, no outside forces to come between us. You are mine. I am yours. Do you understand, my krasotka?"

I nod.

He kisses me. Possessive. Hungry. So deep, new tingles form in my toes. When he ends our kiss, he flips me over. "Do not have any confusion around this, my krasotka. Any man who tries to harm you, or touch you, I will kill. There will be no warning. You need to understand what I'm disclosing to you."

Goose bumps pop out on my skin. "I wouldn't have ever allowed any man to touch me if you hadn't broken up with me."

His jaw twitches. "There will be no more breakups. I am not telling you this to make you feel guilty. I am warning you about what I will do so it will never be a reason for you to leave me."

My stomach twists.

"I won't back down on this. Yet, I see this as something to possibly destroy us. So I want your word if something happens, you are not going to hate me or stop loving me."

Since we aren't breaking up, I don't have any reason to engage in any man's attention aside from his, sober or intoxicated. There's nothing to worry about. "You have my word."

He studies my face for another moment. "Good. Let's get ready for the wedding."