Page 185 of The Lazarov Bratva

“In a good way?”

“Yes. You seem so much tougher than before, not at all like the wallflower you were before. Mikhail wouldn’t stand a chance trying to kiss you now.”

Laughter bubbles up at the thought, and I nod.

“I feel stronger. I’m going to do everything I can to make Kristof and my baby proud to be mine.”

23

ALENA

“You’re amazing! You’re amazing, you’re amazing?—”

I press kiss after sweet kiss to Kristof’s face, ignoring his attempts to try and escape my hands. Cupping his face, I pepper kisses everywhere I can reach, and he laughs beneath me, a deep rumble that sweeps through his chest. His hands lightly rest on my hips, and his fingertips press in lightly to hold me.

“You’re welcome,” he replies as I continue to kiss him repeatedly.

Katja and I had talked long into the night until exhaustion forced both of us to go to bed. I’d arrived in the bedroom to find Kristof still awake and on the phone to August, so I’d slipped into the shower while he finished his call.

“Honestly, I can’t thank you enough. It’s like you were in my head and you could see how much I missed her and” —another flurry of kisses as I balance in Kristof’s lap, then I slide to the side and tuck under his arm with a pleased sigh— “thank you.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Kristof replies softly, “and you don’t need to thank me.”

“Yes, yes I do.” An idea strikes, and I slide back into Kristof’s lap, kissing him full on the lips. He grunts softly in surprise, and then I break the kiss and map a path of small kisses and bites over his chest. Down south I go, and Kristof’s hands slip from my waist when he works out where I’m going and what I’m planning.

“Sure,” he says, and the smirk is so clear in his voice. “I’ll take this thanks.”

I roll my eyes and continue laying open-mouthed kisses all the way down his body, grazing my teeth along the V of his hips and then down until I’m face to face with his half-hard cock. Puffing my cheeks, I breathe hotly over his length, and Kristof moans softly.

Taking his cock in my hand, I kitten-lick over the shaft, and my pulse quickens proudly as his cock hardens under the attention of my tongue. That’s one thing I love and will never get used to—I can turn Kristof on so quickly, it’s like a magic trick, and as someone who grew up never seeing herself as important or desirable, that’s amazing.

“Alena,” Kristof moans.

I glance up the length of his body. He has his head tipped back into the pillows, exposing his throat, and his chest heaves with rapid, deep breaths.

I lick all over the shaft, paying close attention to his sensitive nerves just under the crown, and then, with his balls in one hand, I swallow him down in one swift motion. A noise of pleasure punches right out of Kristof, and his hips jerk upward, but not too far since the light grip I have on his balls keeps him mostly still.

I learned quickly that this can keep me in charge of the pace, so long as I massage his balls every so often.

“Fuck, Alena,” Kristof whimpers again, and tingling excitement rushes over my skin. My rhythm is slow and careful, taking his cock deep into my throat and lazily humming, then pulling back slow enough that my lower lip drags over his shaft just after the flickering press of my tongue. As his hips rock back and forth, fighting his desire to thrust deep and fuck, I brace my other hand on the bed and pick up the pace with a moan.

Bobbing my head, my attention splits between keeping my breathing regular and listening to Kristof’s moans. The way they pitch tells me all I need to know about how close he is, and as they start to break and crack with each gasp he takes, I know he’s getting close. His cock twitches in my mouth, and his hips jerk, then his balls tighten in my hand.

He comes hard with a loud cry, and both of his hands end up in my hair, but he doesn’t take over. He simply rocks through the pleasure, and I swallow down every rapid burst of cum that shoots across my tongue. I continue to suck until his cock starts to soften between my lips, and then I pull off with a soft, audible pop.

“Thank you.” I grin, wiping the corner of my mouth as I crawl up his body.

“Thank me?” Kristof chuckles breathlessly. “Thank you.”

Our lips collide in a heated, desperate kiss, and for a few lazy minutes, there’s nothing but Kristof’s light panting and the gentle dance of our tongues weaving between the kisses. Then I settle against him, one leg over his and my arm on his chest as we snuggle.

“That was amazing.”

“I know,” I tease softly, running my hand over his chest. “You’re welcome.”

Silence falls, and sleep would likely follow, but there’s still some curiosity burning in my mind. “What was the call with August about?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Kristof replies like it’s a reflex.

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