Page 132 of The Bratva Stalker's Ruthless Claim
He’s relentless, his breath coming in jagged hitches as he drives deep, over and over, until the world dissolves into a blurof heat and friction. The pressure builds to an impossible peak, and then we both shatter. We orgasm together, a violent, bone-shattering collision of pleasure that leaves us both gasping and clinging to each other for support against the wall.
As the waves of the climax slowly recede, I regain my breath, though my legs are still trembling. I pull away with a small, breathless laugh, realizing we’ve completely blown past those “few minutes” I promised.
“My makeup is definitely ruined now,” I mutter, though there’s no real bite in it.
I hurry into the bathroom for a quick wash-up, the cool water a sharp contrast to the lingering heat on my skin. I catch my reflection in the mirror—flushed, hair a mess, and eyes bright. I quickly tidy myself, smoothing my skirt and fixing what I can, trying to regain some semblance of the composed woman I was before he decided to remind me exactly who I belong to.
Afterward, Mike walks me downstairs to the waiting car, his hand resting at the small of my back like it belongs there.
He opens the door for me and waits until I slide inside.
“If anything happens,” he says, his tone turning serious for a moment, “you call me immediately.”
I smile softly.
It’s his mantra now.
Even though nothing has happened in months. Even though life has finally settled into something calm and predictable again.
“I will,” I promise.
He leans down, pressing one last kiss to my lips before closing the door.
As the car pulls away, I watch him in the side mirror, standing there with his hands in his pockets, still looking at me like I’m something precious he refuses to lose again.
For the first time in a long time, I allow myself to believe it.
We’re safe.
We can live like normal people now.
I don’t measure my life by what was taken from me anymore.
I measure it by what I’ve built.
I’m still driving when my phone buzzes beside me.
I grab it quickly, assuming it’s Mike doing one of his usual check-ins. The man has become absolutely insufferable when it comes to my safety.
But the message on the screen makes me pause.
It’s encrypted.
And when I read it, a small laugh escapes me.
The message is short. Sharp.
You chose love over power. Let’s see how long it lasts.
I roll my eyes, leaning back in my seat.
Katerina.
It has to be.
But strangely, I don’t feel the surge of fear I once would have. No cold panic crawling up my spine.
Just mild annoyance.
