Page 67 of Baby for the Bratva

We come from different countries, speaking different languages as we discovered the world, but tonight the music speaks the same way to both of us. The warmth of her body drains me of my inhibitions, and the sparkle in her eyes as she looks into mine is a spell as strong as whiskey.

Nothing else in the world matters anymore. All of it fades into the background, even the music, as I pull her closer. Her body fits into mine like a puzzle piece, and the moment we click into place, it’s like a cloud is lifted and I can finally see the truth.

Stella and I were made for each other. There’s no other way around it, no possibility of denying what we have here. It’s more than chemistry. It’s the bond of fate that brought us together, and only death would separate us now.

She might not realize it, but I do.

A euphoric feeling rises in my body, coming from my feet and pulsating through my legs. It keeps moving, overtaking my body as the music reaches a peak. I kiss Stella on her soft red lips, closing my eyes and disappearing into the most private place in my mind, the one I hid for years because I was too afraid to let anyone else in.

Tonight, I’m opening the door to that place and allowing Stella to see a part of me that nobody else has seen. My soul is exposed to her without my ego in the way. It’s fragile, but her touch is gentle, and she accepts it with the utmost care.

I open my eyes, pulling back and smiling without control. I don’t care if I look crazy. I can’t hide what I’m feeling right now, and I don’t care how foolish it is to fall in love with Stella. It feels too good to stop.

She laughs with pure joy as we stop dancing and return to the table. Our food is waiting for us there, and we dig in without saying a word. We’ve already confessed everything to each other using with our souls. There’s nothing else to be said.

Normally, I would comment on how good the food tastes, or say something about the way the chef makes regular vegetables taste like magic, but tonight, nothing even comes close to the mesmerizing flavor of the woman in front of me. Even as we finish our meal and order dessert, I find myself unable to think about eating again until I’ve had a taste of her.

I stand up again, offering her my hand.

“Another dance?” she asks with a smile.

“You know what I want,” I reply, the beast in me taking over. “Let’s go.”

She tosses her napkin on the table, leaving it behind with any doubts she has as we rush to the bathroom together.

32

Stella

Yuri pushes me up against the wall before the door is even locked, pressing his lips into mine and drinking my passion as he twists the bolt on the bathroom door shut.

All the reasoning parts of my brain shut off immediately, sending shockwaves of pure arousal through my body. My belly buzzes with a swirling heat, and my thighs are already slick with my dripping fluid.

I didn’t wear panties because I knew it would come to this. Yuri discovers that quickly as he brings his hand up my thigh, pressing his thumb into my pussy and emitting a deep growl from his throat.

“Wet for me already?” he asks, running his lips down my neck. His hot breath causes goosebumps to rise on the whole left side of my body, all down my arm and leg.

“I’m always wet for you,” I breathe.

“And I’m always hard for you,” he replies, grabbing my hand and pressing it into his bulging crotch. “You feel it? You feel what you do to me? You’re making me crazy for you, Stella, and I’m about to lose control.”

“Do it,” I challenge, squeezing his package and giving him the sultriest look I can manage. I pull my eyelids down halfway, letting out the inner sex goddess in me to drive him crazier than he’s ever been.

I don’t just want to be fucked. I want to be punished like he hates me. I never want to forget the way his cock feels inside of me, and I never want to forgive him for giving it to me this good and then ruining it by marrying me.

The truth is, I do hate him, but I love him at the same time. I just need it to be mutual, and if it is mutual, I want to feel it in the way he fucks me.

“You’re in so much trouble, darling. You’ve really crossed a line with me,” Yuri says, his voice thick and husky as he grabs the neckline of my dress.

I gasp as he tears it open like it’s made of paper, throwing it onto the floor. Thousands of dollars’ worth of designer fabric turn to scraps in an instant.

I’m left standing naked in high heels, my mouth open and my body trembling as his hands return to me. His rough callouses move slowly over my bare skin, and I can barely breathe as he clutches my hip and holds me against the wall with one hand. His other moves between my legs again, playing in my wetness.

His eyes shine with a devilish gleam as he pulls his hand out from between my legs, showing me the sticky clear syrup I’ve produced. He spread his fingers, holding them up to the light for a moment before sticking them straight into his mouth.

He smacks his lips, his eyes lighting up from the taste of me. “Delicious,” he mumbles. “Fucking divine.”

I’m panting from the euphoric emotions of being treated this way. He loves every part of me, from the way my mouth tastes to the sweetness between my legs. The crazy part is that I feel the exact same way about him.

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