Page 135 of The Bratva Sinner

I pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are dark. His chest rises and falls. I reach down and pull my shirt over my head. His hands are immediately on my skin, spanning my ribs, his thumbs tracing the undersides of my breasts.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His tone is reverent.

Then, he moves his mouth to my breast, pulling my nipple between his teeth. He flicks his tongue and I gasp.

“Maksim, I need you.”

He shifts to the side and places me on the bed beneath him. He kisses my throat, my collarbone, and over the curve of my shoulder. His stubble drags against my skin, scraping over my sensitive flesh. I arch into him.

I get his shirt off. I move my hands over his stomach, reveling in the hard lines of his beautiful body. I lift my head and kiss one defined pectoral muscle and then the other one, using my tongue to lap against his flesh.

He pulls down my panties and then he’s looking at me. I hold his gaze because I meant what I said. I’m not fragile. I’m not afraid.

“So fucking beautiful.”

He lowers his head and kisses between my legs. It’s gentle. Loving. I exhale loudly, and buck my hips against his face. He presses me against the mattress. He’s unhurried about it, deliberate. I tighten my fingers in his hair as the tension slowly builds. I can’t speak. My head rolls side to side as he sweeps his tongue across my clit.

“Maksim!”

He takes me apart, piece by piece, until I’m crying out over and over. My body vibrates with every powerful aftershock.

He works his way back up my body while I’m still catching my breath. I reach for his waistband and help him out of the rest of his clothes, and then, he’s between my thighs.

I look up at him.

He drops his forehead to mine, and it undoes me more than anything else.

“I’m never letting you go, voinitsa.”

He pushes inside me, and we go still.

I feel the exhale move through him. I wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper. He groans quietly against my neck and starts to move. Long, deep strokes that I feel in my very soul. I move with him, slicing my hands over the muscles of his back. I feel the tension there.

“Maksim, I love you,” I whisper.

I know he doesn’t know how to respond. That’s okay. I just need him to know.

He watches me as his body slides into my mine. It’s slow at first, with eye contact that I don’t break even when it feels like too much. His hand comes up to cup my face. His thumb brushes my cheekbone.

“I have you,” he says.

“I know,” I say. “I have you, too. Always.”

He makes a sound before burying his face in my neck. He moves deeper. I hold onto him and let myself feel all of it.

I come apart with him this time. I feel his body go taut, and his arms tighten around me. I hold him through it with my lips pressed against his temple.

He doesn’t move away afterward.

His head is heavy on my chest. I run my fingers slowly through his hair as his breathing evens out.

“I love you, Lila.”

My hand stops in his hair.

He said it. He actually said it.

I smile. “I know.”