Page 84 of The Bratva Sinner

“Oh.” I consider that and lie back down. “So, should you, I don’t know, fuck me?”

“Lila.”

The man sounds like he’s going to die.

And then he pulls out just a little. When he slides back in, a wave of ecstasy washes over me.Oh. Oh yes. I’m definitely going to like this.

He moves, giving me time to adjust. The discomfort doesn’t disappear, but it becomes something different. Something good. His forehead drops to mine. His breath is unsteady. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

I know he’s holding back. For now, I think that’s the right move.

I bring my hands up to his back and feel the flex of muscle as he moves. I pull him closer and lift my hips. He makes a low sound against my neck.

He’s moving faster. My body doesn’t feel like my own. Warmth and tingly sensations run up and down my spine. I drag my nails lightly down his back without meaning to. He shudders and presses his hips harder against mine.

“Sorry,” I whisper.

“Don’t apologize,” he says roughly. “You feel so fucking good that I’m trying not to lose my mind.”

I do it again.

His control slips a notch. His pace shifts faster and harder. I gasp and arch into him, digging my fingers in. He groans quietly with his face pressed into my hair. I feel him everywhere, right to the edges of my fingertips and the tips of my toes.

When the next orgasm crests, it rolls through me slowly, wave after wave. I hold onto him through all of it with soft whimpers escaping my mouth.

He follows not long after, his body going still and taut above me, my name barely audible in his exhale.

I can’t move. I don’t want to move. I like him on me. In me.

He lifts his head and looks at me. His hair is a mess. He looks human in a way I’ve never seen him.

“You okay?” he asks.

Sore. Flushed. Undone.

“Yeah.” I smile.

“Good, princess.”

He rolls to the side and gets out of bed. I hear water running, and then he returns. He’s holding a washcloth. When he puts it between my legs, I automatically close them.

“Lila,” he warns.

I stop and allow him to wipe away the evidence of what just happened. He leaves the bedroom again. I hear the toilet, sit up slowly, and reach for my shirt.

“No,” he says. “You’ll sleep in my bed. Naked.”

I should argue, but I don’t want to. I want him to hold me. I just gave him the only thing that’s ever been mine to give.

We climb under the blankets, and he wraps his body around mine. He kisses the side of my head. “You’re mine now, voinitsa.”

I’ve never been anyone’s. I didn’t think Iwantedto be someone’s.

But I want to be his. I feel wanted. I’ve never felt that.

22

Maksim