Page 70 of Bound in Possession

I pull back, winding up for another heavy right hook, when the faint sound of soft footsteps on the polished concrete floor catches my ear.

I look up, and the breath catches straight in my throat.

It’s Camilla.

She’s standing at the edge of the training area, dressed only in a thin, silky nightgown that skitters over her curves and falls softly around her thighs.

Fuck.

She looks so breathtakingly sexy, framed by the harsh fluorescent lights of the gym, that my blood burns instantly hot.

I brace myself. I prepare for whatever she’s bringing down here—a quiet attempt at comfort, a fresh wave of anger, or more questions about Lydia.

She gives me none of that.

"You know," Camilla says softly, her voice carrying across the room as she folds her arms, "you are remarkably dramatic for a man who claims to be so controlled."

I freeze, my chest heaving, sweat dripping down the line of my jaw as I stare at her. The silence stretches between us, heavy and electric, before I slowly lower my fists. I let her take the lead, staying completely still as she closes the distance between us.

She stops right in front of me, her dark eyes dropping down to my right hand. Without saying a word, she reaches out, her small, warm fingers gently taking my wrist. She lifts my bloodied hand, tilting it toward the light to inspect the split skin over my knuckles.

She rolls her eyes, letting out a soft sigh before dropping my wrist. "Stay here," she murmurs, turning on her heel and disappearing.

When she reappears a minute later, she’s carrying the first aid kit. She sets it on a nearby weight bench, opens it, and pulls out a bottle of antiseptic and a roll of clean gauze. She takes my hand again, her touch surprisingly gentle as she dabs a soaked cotton pad over my torn knuckles. I don't even flinch at the sting, my eyes locked entirely on her face.

She works in quiet focus, wrapping the white gauze tightly around my hand and securing the end. Once she’s finished, she doesn't let go. Instead, she lifts my wrapped hand to her lips, pressing a slow, lingering kiss right over the bandage.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, looking up at me through her lashes. "For how I reacted earlier."

I look down at her, my pulse thumping against the collar of my shirt. "Do you trust that you’re the only woman in my life, Camilla?"

She doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

A quiet weight lifts from my shoulders, but before I can say anything, she steps in closer, her dark eyes flashing with something warm and intentional.

"I want you back in the bedroom, Maksim."

A low rumble builds in my chest, a dark eyebrow arching. "Why?" I ask, leaning in just a fraction. "Don’t you like sleeping alone?"

A sly, gorgeous smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth. "There’s a certain appeal to sleeping with you."

"Is that so?" I hum, stepping into her space until her back is almost touching the heavy bag behind her. "What appeal?"

Without a word, she reaches up, taking my freshly wrapped hand in hers, and drags it down to press my palm flat over her bare breast beneath the thin silk of her dress. The heat of her skin burns right through the heavy gauze. She arches her back slightly, letting out a low, breathy moan that snaps the last thread of my control.

A deep growl tears from my throat.

Her dark eyes heat up, practically blazing with dark intent. Slowly, keeping her gaze locked onto mine, she gathers the hem of her silky nightgown in her hands and hitches it all the way up to her waist.

She turns around, reaching out to grip the thick steel frame of the smith machine in front of us. Pushing her chest toward the padded bar, she leans forward, bending at the waist and exposing her bare, perfect ass directly to me in the dim light of the gym.

I reach for her, wrapping my left arm tightly around her waist to anchor her against the steel frame, while my right hand comes down with a heavy, sharp slap across the curve of her bare butt.

The crack echoes off the concrete walls of the empty gym. Camilla lets out a throaty moan, but she doesn't flinch away—she arches further into my touch, her breath hitching as I smooth my palm over the expanse of her creamy, flushed skin.

With my pulse thumping wildly, I shove my sweatpants down my hips with my free hand, freeing my cock, which is already aching and rock hard. My fingers wrap tightly around the shaft, stroking once, twice, as I line myself up right at her opening.

"Are you wet for me, Camilla?" I growl against her ear, my chest pressing heavily heaving against her back. "Because you're about to have a very long night. I’m going to fuck you here first, and then I’m carrying you back to our bedroom and fucking you until you pass out on my cock."