Page 24 of The Bratva Queens' Kings

I gasp as he grabs my hair and pulls my mouth towards his. Our lips lock in a passionate kiss that sends shivers down my spine. His tongue slips inside my mouth and begins to explore, dancing with mine.

He leans forward, his hot breath fanning my nipples as he teases them with his lips. I gasp as he flicks one with his tongue, causing a wave of pleasure to wash over me.

"Do you like that?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "Tell me."

"Yes," I whimper, arching my back towards him. "Please, I want you."

Grigori growls, his eyes darkening with desire. He slides his fingers inside me, feeling how wet I am for him. He thrusts them in and out, hitting my sensitive spot, causing me to moan loudly.

With one swift movement, he lifts me up and carries me to the bed. He lays me down gently, his eyes never leaving mine.

He climbs onto the bed with me, his hardened length pressing against my stomach. It's hot and thick, like a living thing with an insatiable hunger.

As he caresses my slightly swollen belly, I know that missionary isn't an option tonight. With a fierce hunger, I climb on top of him, taking control.

I straddle him, his erect cock throbbing against my entrance. I look down at his handsome face, so serious and focused, and I decide I want to be the one to make the first move.

I slowly lower myself onto him, feeling the tips of his manhood part my juicy folds and slide deep into my core. I moan softly as I take him all in.

Grigori's hands are on my hips, guiding me up and down on his length. He watches my face, his eyes burning with desire. His muscles tension beneath me as he thrusts up to meet my movements.

With each thrust, my pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter in my belly. "Yes, right there," I pant, grinding myself against him.

I lean forward, my breasts brushing against his chest as I move faster, taking him deeper.

Exhaustion from my pregnancy is starting to take its toll. He senses this and takes control, thrusting upwards even though I'm on top.

I close my eyes, concentrating on the delicious friction between us as Grigori fills me up, his every thrust hitting that sweet spot deep within me. I need this release. I need him.

Sweat beads along our skin, and the room is filled with the sounds of our passionate union. Grigori's hands move up my body, cupping my breasts as he continues to thrust into me. He's relentless, his eyes burning into mine as he takes control of both our bodies.

"Grigori," I whimper, my orgasm building. "I'm close."

"That's it," he growls, his breathing ragged. "Come for me, baby."

The words send me over the edge, and I cry out his name as my climax overtakes me. My body convulses around him, milking his cock until he groans and shudders, his release hot and wet inside me.

We collapse onto the bed, our chests heaving as we catch our breath.

It's good that I'm still desirable. Grigori and I, we have this uncanny ability to stabilize each other with just a few words, a glance, or a touch. It's like we're two sides of the same coin, perfectly balanced, yet entirely different.

Catching my breath, I lay there with Grigori next to me, the heat from his body a comforting presence. A part of me, the part that's always running on high, always plotting the next move, desperately craves a cigarette, a longing tug that's become all too familiar. But I quit, cold turkey, the moment I found out about the baby growing inside me. It's one of those decisions that didn't feel like a choice, not really, not with what's at stake.

Grigori too quit, at least that's what he told me.

"Do you ever miss it?" I ask out of the blue, my voice a quiet confession in the still air. "The smoking, I mean."

He turns his head, his gaze meeting mine, and there's an understanding there, a shared memory of countless nights spent on rooftops or in the back of cars, the glow of a cigarette in the dark. "Sometimes," he admits, his voice equally low. "But there are better things to breathe in now."

His words bring a small smile to my face, a flicker of amusement at the sentiment. "Yeah?" I prod, teasingly. "Like what?"

"Like this," he says, and in a swift movement, he closes the distance between us for a gentle, reassuring kiss.

We don't need words to communicate everything that follows; the silence speaks for us, filled with the weight of our shared dreams and the unspoken promises we've made. For now, it's enough to simply be, together in the quiet, as we face the uncertain future with a united front.

Chapter 12

Roman

---