Page 54 of Stolen By the Bratva

I’d killed someone. With my actions, I’d instigated more danger. I’d accused him of causing war, but I’d incited it even more by killing Andrey.

I’d made my choice, though, and I would stand by my man. In all his naked, rugged glory.

I stood, stripping as quickly as I could without taking my eyes off him. His dark stare roved up and down me, appreciative and needy until I was naked for him.

Once more, he pushed me until I reclined, and he crawled over me, covering me with his body. He didn’t last long, grimacing with the pressure of putting weight on his forearm.

“You’ll tear your stitches,” I worried aloud, and he growled, gritting his teeth as he realized that same fact. In a quick tuck and roll, he repositioned us. He lay back and dragged me over him, and I followed his lead.

His hot hands touched me everywhere, his fingers tweaking my nipples, his palms cupping my breasts, then my ass and my hips.

He gripped the back of my neck, tugging me down to kiss him hard, and I again followed. His guidance taught me how to move, where to go. I straddled him, instinctively grinding down against his long erection that rubbed my sensitive skin. Each back-and-forth rub I rode over him spread my cream. Slick and sticky, wet and chilled when I moved back, I showed us both how aroused I was for him.

“Ride me, Wife.”

I opened and closed my mouth, ready to tell him I didn’t know how. But it was a lie I couldn’t voice aloud. This would be my first time on top, but deep inside, charged with a flaming need to sink down on him, my body knew. I would figure it out with his instructions.

I snagged my lower lip between my teeth and scooted back to grip him. All the veins teased me, enticing me to explore this first touch of my hand on his cock. The texture intrigued me, so hard yet soft, like steel covered with velvet, but he wasn’t a patient teacher.

“Fuck me, Mila. Right now.” He dug his fingers into my hips as he directed me to line his cockhead to my pussy.

I moaned at the dragging friction of his dick over my clit, and I considered prolonging this exquisite torture. It felt too good. So naughty. I obeyed his order, though, shifting and getting closer to notch the wide, bulbous head to my soaking wet entrance. A few gentle rocks back and forth helped me get a stable stance over him, and I sank down just a bit to let him spear into me that far and stretch me open.

“Oh…” I leaned my head back, craning my neck as the tingles of pleasure streaked up my body. From the tension in my womb to the aching peaks of my nipples, I felt on fire and sizzling.

“Fuck me, Wife,” he ordered. He wasn’t going to wait. Even though he’d insisted that I get on top so he wouldn’t injure himself any further, he took over. His fingers clutched at my skin with a punishing grip that would bruise. Holding on to my hips, he held me in place to thrust his cock deeper inside me.

“Alek!” I cried out, half from shock and half from overwhelming excitement. That rough shove into my cunt felt damned good. He was just so thick, so big, and the feeling of being crammed full with his dick thrilled me.

“Fuck me. Now.”

I sank down, letting my knees slide over the mattress and widen my opening to him. Shivering and trembling, I lowered until he was seated all the way inside me. I stared at him, reveling in the tortured look of need in his eyes. After a brief moment to catch my breath at this deeper angle, I lifted up and sank back down on him.

I wasn’t graceful as I learned my rhythm, but eventually, as I followed the cues from my body and the intense pressure of the orgasm I chased, I figured it out.

He held my hips, urging me to ride him faster and harder, grinding down and rubbing my clit against him. When he lifted his fingers to that hard bud of need, he helped me get there further. Every filthy word he said pushed me toward letting go, and when I did, crying out and clenching around his jerking dick as he came with me, bursts of light sparkled behind my closed lids.

I was a trembling, quivering mess of bliss, almost dizzy from the force of my release, but he didn’t let me fall.

Gathering me in his arms, he pulled me down until I lay draped over him. And with his steady heartbeat thudding beneath my cheek, I rested my head on his chest and surrendered to the lure of sleep.

23

ALEK

Three more times, late into the night, I fucked my wife.

My wife.

I didn’t know if or when that phrase would stop getting to me. I’d never thought I’d get married. I would’ve been content to be a bachelor and remain unattached for the rest of my life.

Now that I was married, I couldn’t get enough of that phrase.

My wife. I was addicted to the fact that she was mine. Mine to possess, to fuck, to protect. Mila was sworn to me, and I would never forget it.

As she slept in, well into the morning on the day after our wedding, I sighed and let her catch up on her rest. I’d worn her out all night long, making good on showing her how hot it could be between us. The chemistry sizzling between us was an unstoppable force. All it took was one heated look, one delicate brush of her skin against mine, and I wanted her again.

The wound stretching over my shoulder and onto my back held me back from taking her as roughly as I wanted, but we still made it work.

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