Possess (The Syndicate: Crime and Passion Book 1) (10 page)

S
enna

“
W
hat a lovely way to
wake up,” I said as I burrowed against Maxim’s side, my breath only having just returned to normal after Maxim had used his fingers to tease a gentle climax from me.

“It is,” he said, his voice deep, still rough with disuse, his hand making slow circles across my hip.

I burrowed even closer to him and shivered as he nipped at my neck, let his hands roam my body, dropped one low to tease the moisture between my legs.

“Maxim, I’m sleepy,” I said, my eyes still sealed shut.

“Too sleepy for me, little flower?” His breath whispered along my skin as he spoke, the caress followed by his hand, featherlight against me, his touch leaving goose bumps in its wake.

“Yes. And whose fault is that?” I asked, my voice languorous with sleepiness and a smile.

He kissed me again, trailing his lips along my shoulder. “I take pride in having tired you out, but if you insist, I’ll let you sleep,” he said.

I chuckled. “How kind of you,” I said.

He kissed my lips until I opened my eyes, and when I did, the only thing I saw was the smile on his face. “Until later,” he whispered.

After I gave him a slow smile, I closed my eyes and listened as he got out of bed, the mattress shifting with the removal of his weight.

I kept them closed as he moved around the room, the sounds of his activities now familiar.

It seemed unbelievable. Only months ago we had been strangers to each other this way, had had a complicated relationship, no doubt, the most intimate of my life and I suspected of his, but this level of commitment, connection, and familiarity had not been a part of it.

It was now, though. And the connection went beyond the physical. The physical was a part of it, a big part, but it wasn’t our entire relationship, no matter what Maxim said.

I knew him in ways I had never dreamed of before, loved him with a depth I had never imagined. Had let myself think he might grow to feel the same.

The door closed, but I continued to lie there, not moving. I had told Maxim I was sleepy, and I was, but there was no time to waste.

Not today.

After a few more minutes of lying there, I peeled my eyes open and got out of bed. I showered and dressed, shaking off the remaining sluggishness, and then made my way out of the building.

I didn’t know if Adrian or one of the others followed me, but I pretended I was alone and hastily made my way to my destination and back.

It was less than a fifteen-minute trip, but the consequences of it would change everything.

When I returned, I made my way back to my room, one of the few times I’d been there in the last several months, closed the door, and then took special care to turn the lock. My body trembled as I thought of Maxim’s previous admonition, could only imagine how he would react if he came and tried to open the door now, but the need for privacy outweighed any worry about him.

When I reached the bathroom, I locked the door. Then I opened the package, my hands surprisingly steady, and as I waited for the result of the test, I realized I didn’t need it. It would only confirm what I already knew was true.

Three minutes later, I had that confirmation.

There was no longer any question.

I was pregnant.

I had never felt anything like the elation and utterly crushed feeling that came over me in that moment. I’d suspected before, known it, but to see it spelled out put things in an entirely different perspective. The emotions that rushed through me were dizzying, so I unlocked the bathroom door and collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

My heart soared with joy. The thought of having a child, holding a baby of my own in my arms, was incredible, beyond any elation I had felt before.

But that elation came with a weight, a cost I would soon have to pay.

I had no idea how Maxim would react.

I shook my head, as if doing so would physically clear the thought.

That wasn’t true anyway.

I didn’t know how he would react specifically, but I knew his reaction wouldn’t be good.

Maxim wanted nothing real, and there was nothing more real than another life.

He would not take this well.

Beyond my worry about his reaction, I felt sadness as well.

Everything had changed between us again, and I mourned the loss of those few precious months where I had been able to pretend that I could change his mind, that maybe, one day he’d come to realize that he cared for me as much as I did him.

Sad as it was, having had a place in Maxim’s bed had been enough and the option of taking what he had to offer over having nothing at all hadn’t even been a question.

It couldn’t be enough anymore, though. I had more things to consider now, more feelings than my own to take into account. The baby was most important now, and the baby deserved more.

More than Maxim could give. I would make sure the baby had it. Even if it broke my heart in the process.

M
axim

“
S
o the pieces
are in place?” Sergei asked as soon as I arrived at the storefront.

“They are,” I said.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked.

“The plan is what it has always been. Eliminate Santo,” I said.

“He’s not going to take this easily,” Sergei said.

“He’s not going to have a choice,” I replied.

Sergei smiled, then tugged at the tie that was crookedly knotted around his neck.

I said nothing about his new clothes, though the effort hadn’t gone unnoticed. He’d never look natural in a suit, but his efforts in his clothes, the way he had been handling business over these months, were impressive. He had improved dramatically, enough that once I had handled Santo, I would give him the opportunity he had wanted for so long. I hadn’t told him yet, though, and wouldn’t until after everything was in place.

“Continue to watch Santo. Adrian will contact you when I’m ready,” I said.

He nodded, and then I left.

As Adrian drove me back, I felt that familiar tug, the need to see Senna again. It hadn’t dampened, hadn’t slackened in the least, and in fact had only grown stronger.

As ever, Senna was my Achilles’ heel, my weakness, but a weakness I knew I would simply have to accept. The idea of being without her was one I rejected wholesale, and though I knew she still wanted more, I hoped she was content with things as they were. It was all that could be, but even that was better than nothing.

It was dark by the time I got back, and I immediately went to my room, hoping she would be there as she had those nights before.

I entered, found the bathroom door closed, so quickly discarded my clothes and waited for her.

When the bathroom door opened, Senna stared out at me, looking at my face, then meeting my eyes, but then her gaze dropped down to where my already-hard cock jutted from my body.

“Come here, little flower,” I said, my voice already rough with desire.

A small smile teasing her lips, she came toward me, her slow, muffled footsteps, the gentle sway of her body pulling me further under her spell.

When she reached me, I put my arms around her waist and pulled her close to me, bunching the dress she wore around her thighs.

I watched as more and more of her skin was exposed, saw the first glimpse of the damp hair that covered her sex. I reached out, touched her, feeling immense satisfaction when she shivered and then pushed my fingers through the wetness that seeped from her.

She tilted her head, her eyes dropping down as she watched me stroke her.

I hadn’t tired of this either, had come to crave seeing the emotion on her face as I touched her, watching as she went from quiet restraint to loud passion.

“Maxim,” she said, her voice needy.

My cock jumped at the sound, the knowledge that my touch did this to her only intensifying my desire for her.

“Senna,” I replied as I stroked my finger along her wet slit.

“I want you inside,” she said, her voice needy.

“Here I am,” I said, voice deepening as I leaned back to rest on my hands, offering myself to her.

It was an offer she took eagerly.

She quickly pulled her short gown over her head, baring her full, beautiful curves to me. Every time I saw her, my desire deepened, made me want her more. She lifted her legs, resting one on either side of my body, and as she hovered over me, I gripped her full breasts, teasing her nipples before moving to capture the turgid peak between my lips.

She was above me now, her scalding sex brushing my cockhead as she held my shoulders tight.

I released her nipple, the low, wet-sounding
pop
drawing a moan from her.

But she kept moving and reached for me, circling her hand around my shaft and then gripping the base of my cock, teasing her clit before she centered herself over my cock, my hardness only barely piercing her. She stayed there for a moment, but then tightened her grip and lowered until I was halfway inside.

When she let go of my cock, she opened her eyes, still heavy-lidded with passion, and watched as she lowered herself fully onto my thick shaft.

Watching myself disappear into her body, feeling her tightness close around me was almost too much to bear, my heart pounding harder, my cock firming even more from the sight and the sensation. I watched until we were completely joined, not an inch between us.

Senna preferred slow seduction, and the other times she had ridden me, she always moved at a slow pace, liking to build to her climax.

Not today, though. After a moment, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and began to rock over me at a furious speed.

I let her take her pleasure, watching her face as the passion passed over it, watching her body as it moved above me, listening to her low, hoarse moans. She tightened atop me, her pussy clenching me tight and her body rigid above me as she came.

When she calmed, I anchored my hands on her hips and began to lift her and then pushed her back down, thrusting up at the same time. I did that again, and again, until my vision began to blur at the sides and I was finally taken by my climax.

Still connected, I flipped us so Senna lay on her back so I could look down into her face. She opened her eyes, still soft with her arousal, and then reached up to trace her fingers along my jaw, my cheeks, against my brow.

I kissed her, then pulled back to look at her again unsure of the expression I saw. I had never seen one like it from her before, and though it was peaceful, it was too close to resigned to sit well with me.

I kissed her again. Then looked into her eyes.

“It will all be okay, little flower,” I said, seeking to reassure her for reasons I couldn’t articulate.

She just smiled softly, as I kissed her again.

S
enna

I
went to the bathroom
, headed directly for the elegant freestanding cabinet that held toiletries. Buried way in the back was a small makeup bag, one where I kept personal items, items that didn’t include makeup. My emotions had my mind swirling, my hands trembling. Maxim hadn’t softened his stance, not at all, and my need for him hadn’t lessened.

But I had more to think about than myself now.

I groped through the cabinet, my hands still trembling. I had fallen into the habit of stashing things early, back when I’d still thought there were things I could hide from Maxim. Back when I thought I still wanted to hide things from him.

I got into the bag, relieved when my fingers touched the small velvet pouch inside it. I pulled the pouch out of the bag, squeezed it in my hand for a moment, my eyes falling closed before I opened them and stared down at it.

The makeup bag slipped from my fingers and clattered to the floor, but was immediately forgotten.

I exited the bathroom, the pouch clenched tight in my fingers, the weight of the objects inside heavy against my palm. I moved until I reached the window, and then stopped, staring through the sheer curtains into the darkness below.

The lights and sounds of the street were audible, but I was disconnected from it, disconnected from everything that happened below.

Now, I was disconnected from him too and had only myself. But I was disconnected from myself too, feeling so incomplete.

And the only way to fix that was to stop running, stop pretending. I couldn’t change him, and I needed to be prepared to move on if it came to that.

I squeezed the pouch again, and then turned my hand, palm up, to look down at it.

Then, slowly, I opened it and dumped its contents into my hand.

A pair of earrings fell out. They were cheap, nickel-plated with the thinnest possible veneer of ten-karat gold, tiny little specks of rock that were supposed to be cubic zirconia studs.

I had gotten them as a gift for my high school graduation, and even now, when I had been given things a million times more valuable, I treasured them. Treasured the people who had given them to me, treasured the girl who had received them.

I held them tight and then opened the window.

The street below was quiet, the air still warm with the last heat of summer. But I was happy for the fresh air, hoped that maybe the breeze, the occasional noise would help distract me from my swirling thoughts.

Five minutes later, though, they hadn’t calmed an iota. I left the window open but sat in my armchair and looked down at my palm, studying the earrings in my hand. As I stared at them, I remembered.

T
he man stared
down at her with cold eyes, but his eyes on her didn’t reignite the terror that had held her tight since that fateful moment, one she realized hadn’t been too long ago, when the front door had come splintering off its hinges and that monstrous man had burst in.

No, his eyes on her had the unexpected effect of calming her. She blinked, her eyes still on him. He’d said he wasn’t going to kill her, but she wasn’t sure what to do next.

“Is h-he out there?” she finally asked, the tears that had filled her eyes spilling as she thought of what might await her outside of the bathroom.

“No,” he said, still looking at her with a cold but not exactly menacing expression.

She believed his assurance, but the tears still ran.

“Wipe your face, girl,” he said almost gruffly.

On instinct, she lifted her hands to her face, swiping against her cheeks, wiping away what she didn’t know then would be the last of her tears.

When her face was as dry as she could get it, she lifted her eyes to him.

“Are you going to stay here until Santo changes his mind and comes back to kill you? Or are you going to come with me?” he said.

She made her decision in less than a second. “I’m going to come with you.”

He didn’t acknowledge her but turned, and she followed him. But before they went down the hall, he stopped, looked back at her.

“Turn your eyes away,” he said.

Then he’d continued, not waiting to see if she would comply. She had, though, had kept her eyes glued to his broad back, not looking left or right, or forward. Only at him.

She heard the other people in the house, the low, murmured whispers, but she just kept her eyes on him until they exited the house. When the breeze brushed her face, she blinked, fought back the tears that threatened, felt the most minuscule spark of pride when they didn’t fall.

He kept moving and she continued to follow him across the street to a waiting car. He nodded toward the door, and she got in, unable to keep herself from looking back at her house. It was silent like it always was, the houses on either side of theirs vacant, the others located further down the street, far enough that she couldn’t hear them, nor them her.

At the sight of the first spark, she sat up straighter, narrowed her eyes as she watched the house. The fire started small, with that single spark, but it grew quickly, engulfing the house so fast she could barely believe it.

“Wait!” she yelled when the car began to move. She managed to break her gaze away from the house long enough to glance at him through the rearview mirror. She met those cold eyes again, the fact that she was looking at him through the mirror not reducing the intensity at all. “Please.”

The last word came out a teary whisper, but after a moment he nodded. She turned back then, watched as the house, her family, her life as she had known it were consumed.

And he’d said nothing, though some distant part of her knew that he watched her. It was only when she heard the shrill whine of sirens that she looked away from the house and back to the eyes that still watched her.

“Can we go now?” she asked.

S
enna

T
he earrings fell
from my hands, and the nearly inaudible sound of them hitting the soft carpet brought me back to the present.

I almost never thought about that night, tried my hardest not to, but I couldn’t pretend anymore. That night, I had given the responsibility for my life to Maxim, had let him keep that responsibility for years.

I was taking that responsibility back now. I stood, put the earrings back into the pouch, and secured it in my bag. Then I grabbed the bag and strode out of the room.

After I made my way downstairs, I headed toward the front door.

With every step, I thought someone would stop me, that Adrian, Sergei, maybe even Maxim himself would spring out from around one of the corners and grab me, drag me back.

No one did, though, and I finally figured out why.

Maxim had done as he always did. Told me what would happen, told me what couldn’t. And he expected me to do as I always did and fall in line.

He would be disappointed.

As much as I loved him, as happy as I had been to hide behind him, I wasn’t anymore. I was going to find my own path, make a life for my baby, even if it didn’t include him.