Page 69 of The Pakhan's Dangerous Secret
Suddenly she flips me on my back and rises over me, her long, blonde hair spilling down to tickle my chest. I raise an eyebrow and she grins.
"My turn to be in control," she says then slowly sinks down on my cock. The feel of her hot, inner muscles gripping me as she takes me into her body nearly has me coming undone right then and there.
She tilts her head back, bracing herself on her arms. Her silky long hair brushes against my thighs and my legs tremble in response. Actually fucking trembles! I have to grit my teeth together to keep from coming, but it's damned difficult. My fucking cock is throbbing like crazy, my balls full and straining.
My eyes travel down her throat to her full breasts on full display in this position. Her nipples are pink and tight and I lick my lips, wishing they were around her breasts. Her stomach is flat as she rolls her hips, grinding down on me, her clit rubbing against my pelvic area.
Holy fuck, she's exquisite. I want to take a picture of her just like this. Her face flushed, eyes closed, and a fine sheen of sweat coating her body.
She sits up suddenly and braces her hands on my chest, the rhythm she set changing, becoming faster and harder. Reachingdown, I rub her clit and her whole body shudders, then she cries out, her body clenching around my cock as waves of pleasure roll through her. I follow moments later, burying myself deep as my release hits hard enough to make my vision blur.
We collapse together, tangled and breathless. I pull her against my chest, my hand stroking down her spine as our breathing slowly returns to normal.
We fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the drawing of mysterious pillars forgotten on the bedside table.
The next morning, I wake with my chest tight and my jaw clenched. Today, we're setting the trap. Today, Mariya walks willingly into danger to figure out who the new family is that's causing so much trouble, and every instinct I have screams that this is wrong.
Beside me, Mariya stirs, her eyes opening slowly. When she sees my face, she smiles. "Good morning."
"Morning." I brush a strand of light hair away from her face. "You ready for this?"
"Absolutely." She sits up, stretching. My eyes drop to her chest, the way her breasts rise with the motion. My mouth waters, but I push the thoughts away before they can fully form. "I can't wait to get started."
Her excitement only makes my anxiety worse. "We should go for a run first. Clear our heads."
She turns to look at me, surprise flickering across her face. "A run?"
"You like running. So do I." I shrug, trying to appear casual even though my mind is racing. "Why haven't we done this before?"
A shadow crosses her expression, and I realize what I've said. Until recently, she was my prisoner. Running together wasn't exactly an option when she was locked in a bedroom under guard.
"Right," I mutter. "Forget I said that."
"No." She reaches for my hand, squeezing gently. "I'd like that. Let's go for a run."
We dress quickly in workout clothes and head outside. The morning air is cool against my skin as we start jogging through the estate grounds. Mariya easily keeps pace beside me, her breathing steady and controlled.
I watch her from the corner of my eye, taking in the determined set of her shoulders, the way her ponytail swings with each step. She's strong. Capable. But she's also walking into a situation where anything could go wrong.
"Stop worrying," she says without looking at me.
"I'm not worrying."
"You're a terrible liar." She glances over, her lips curving into a small smile. "I can practically hear you thinking from here."
I grunt but don't argue.
We finish the run and head back inside to shower and prepare. By the time we're dressed and ready, my men are already assembled in the main room, going over the plan one final time.
The wharf is our chosen location. It's public enough that the new bratva family shouldn't suspect a trap, but isolated enough that we can control the situation. When they take her, we'llfollow using the tracking devices we've hidden in her clothes and jewelry.
Simple. Clean. Foolproof.
Except nothing ever goes according to plan.
We drive to the wharf in separate vehicles. Mariya rides with me, her hand resting on my thigh as I navigate through morning traffic. She's calm, focused, and ready. I'm the one who can't stop running through worst-case scenarios.
"It's going to be fine," she says quietly.
