Page 50 of The Bratva King's Pregnant Bride

“But Mikhail, you have your own toys.”

“Not as much as Anna.”

I began walking into the house. “Do you want more toys, like Anna?”

“More cars. And toy soldiers. A lot of them. Anna likes to make some my soldiers ride her teddy.”

Their laughter was infectious, and their smiles were enough to draw the joy out of me. They were both just four years old, and there was nothing that I wouldn’t do for them.

There was nothing as fulfilling as family. Of course, the usual temptations always came after business meetings, in the form of sexy ladies in lingerie and, sometimes, exposed breasts and the like.

However, I had a wife whose body was superior to every other lady. I would rather bask in her warmth than in that of any other.

Men eyed her whenever we were out together. She turned heads and made jaws drop. She burned bright with no threat to burn out, and that alone kept my virility active.

The love I felt for Maya was staggering. Women had only ever been playthings to me; none had stirred any emotion apart from lust and possession—but with Maya, it was more than that. Much more. Fuck.

Even the thought of Maya turned me on. It was troublesome in business meetings whenever she crossed my mind, which was nearly all the time. The sight of a lady—or anything sexy, really—would send my mind racing back towards her.

With my children still in my arms, I walked into the house to meet the nanny, Mary.

She grinned and bowed. “Welcome, Mister Sharov.”

“Thank you, Mary.” I set both Anna and Mikhail down, giving them each a small push toward their nanny.

She smiled down at them. “Alright, kids. Time to go have your bath.”

The twins grumbled, but did not protest. I watched them leave with love in my heart.

Silence fell around me, then a sweet smell called from the kitchen; it was powerful enough that my stomach growled, and I went to see what was cooking in the kitchen.

I stalked through the house, literally tiptoeing, but as I drew near to the delicious aroma, Maya’s head poked out, surprising me.

“Caught you.” She retreated into the kitchen with a smirk.

Sighing, I abandoned my attempts at stealth. I reached the kitchen entrance, desperately eager to see what was sweetly assaulting the entire building; I was certain the smell had traveled to every corner of the mansion by now. Maya was that good of a cook.

“And welcome back,” she said, planting a kiss on my cheek as I approached. “I missed you.” Her eyes lingered on me for a moment before she returned to the beautiful chaos in front of her.

“What are you up to?” I asked, looking around the spacious kitchen. “And where is the chef?”

“I gave him the night off.” She didn’t look up again, intent on her preparations. “He’s always here, and I thought he deserved a night with family—as I do with you.”

Seeing her take charge gave me a hard on. I tried to suppress my body’s inevitable reaction to her presence, but I just couldn’t.

Maya deigned to glance at me. “I hope you’re not offended I sent him home.”

I raised a brow. “Do I have a choice?”

She shook her head. “No. And even if you did mind, I can think of a few things that might take your mind off it.” Winking, she pursed her lips and blew a kiss my way.

I slowly stared her up and down, her skirt framing her ass like a delectable meal. Even the stained apron around her middle did nothing to diminish her beauty; if anything, the domestic apparel only made her more appealing.

She flashed me one of her breasts and, covering it back up, returned to cooking.

Be patient. I am patient. But I wasn’t sure just how long I could keep singing that tune to myself.

Maya turned off the gas burner and stared at the pot, raising a spoon to her full, pink lips. “Perfect,” she said with a smile.

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