Page 62 of Unholy Tsar

“It’s nothing. I got cut while trying to untie myself,” I explain rapidly, but his glare doesn’t waver. So I stand on my tiptoes and brush my lips against his, trying to calm him. “It’s fine, really. Just a love mark.”

But then I remember that we’re surrounded by his men, and I try to back away, but he doesn’t let me. Instead, he wraps one hand around my waist and drags me into his body for a kiss so intense it makes my head spin.

When he finally breaks that kiss, I sigh softly and sink into his warm embrace.

“We found out where your ex is,” he says, running a hand through my hair. I tense up, then force myself to relax. Trey can’t hurt me now. He can’t hurt me ever again, as long as I have Maksim by my side.

“Seems like we’re going to California, then.”

“Seems like we are. Have you ever flown private before?”

My eyes flutter close. “Yes. On the way here with Bree.”.

“Well, have you ever fucked on a private jet before?”

My eyes fly open, cheeks flushing red. “Maksim! Obviously not…”

He chuckles darkly, then whispers into my ear, his voice low and seductive. “Well, then you better hold on to your fucking panties, Malyshka, because you’re about to join the mile-high club.”

22

MAKSIM

My little mouse snuggles deeper into my chest, smashing her lush tits into me. My cock stirs, even though I just came so hard I saw stars. I sigh, used to it by now. She turns me into a randy teenage boy whenever we’re together.

With a tender stroke, I caress her hair, admiring the way it glistens against the black silky sheets. But as much as I want her to stay wrapped around me, I know I can’t and reluctantly untangle her limbs from mine. She rolls away from me, murmuring incoherently in her sleep as she latches onto a pillow. My lips tilt up. She looks so peaceful lying there, like she doesn’t have a care in the world.

“Sleep well, princess,” I whisper, getting out of bed.

My eyes linger on her body for a moment longer before I quickly get dressed and make my way to the main cabin where my men are waiting. I sit with them, and together, we map out our plan of attack for when we land in California.

I get so lost in the preparations that I hardly notice the passing hours until finally, we’re landing.

That’s when the ear-splitting screeching starts.

It’s coming from the bedroom.

“Cecilia!” I jump up and race over, my men following behind me. But when I reach the door, I turn and tell them to back off. “I’ll take care of it.”

Even if I don’t know what that is.

When I push my way into the bedroom, I find Cecilia in the throes of a panic attack.

She’s on the floor, hunched into herself, her eyes squeezed shut, hands clamped over her ears as she screams and cries, tears streaming down her cheeks.

My heart tightens at the sight.

Lunging forward, I drag the heavy blanket off the bed and drape over her head. Then I wrap my arms around her from behind, just like I did the last time this happened. That seemed to help.

“Shh, it’s okay, dushen’ka. I’m here now. You’re alright. You’re alright,” I murmur softly, rocking her back and forth.

Gradually, her screams subside to sobs, then to pained whimpers. “Maksim?”

“Yes, I’m here.” I pull the blanket off of her and cradle her tear-streaked face in my hands. “You’re alright, dushen’ka.” I plant a kiss on her cheeks, her forehead, her temple, the shell of her ears. Slowly, she relaxes in my arms, and soon enough, even the tears stop.

“Did you have a nightmare?” I ask gently.

She shakes her head against my chest. “No, I think… I think the screeching of the wheels when we landed ripped me awake. The way the plane lurched—it-it reminded me of how T–Trey used to wake me up, yelling about how lazy I was if I ever slept in later than him.”