Page 46 of Captured By the Bratva

Chapter Twenty-One - Violet

Kirill scoops me up effortlessly, his strong arms cradling me against his chest as he carries me to the bedroom. I wrap my arms around his neck, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath my cheek. There’s something profoundly intimate about this moment, being held so securely, so protectively.

He kicks open the door to the bedroom and sets me down gently on the edge of the bed. His eyes are dark with desire, and my body responds instinctively, a shiver of anticipation running through me. He leans down, capturing my lips in a deep, demanding kiss, his hands cradling my face with surprising tenderness.

I melt into the kiss, my fingers weaving into his hair as I pull him closer. The intensity between us is electric, every touch, every kiss igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. He breaks the kiss, his breath hot against my skin as he trails his lips down my neck, his hands exploring my body with a reverence that makes my heart ache.

He lifts his head, his eyes locking on to mine. “I want you again, Malyshka,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

“Then take me,” I reply, my words a plea and a challenge all at once.

He doesn’t need any further encouragement. He strips away the last barriers between us, his hands and lips never leaving my skin. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss sending waves of pleasure through me. When he finally settles between my thighs, the heat of him pressing against me, I arch into him, desperate for more.

He enters me slowly, the deliberate pace only heightening the intensity of our connection. I gasp, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he fills me completely. He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching mine, and the look we share is one of raw, unfiltered emotion.

We move together, our bodies finding a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Each thrust, each movement is a promise, a declaration of the bond we’re forging. The world outside fades away, leaving only the two of us, lost in the sensations we’re creating.

I cling to him, my body arching and writhing beneath him as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak. His name is a whisper on my lips, a prayer and a command all at once. He responds with equal fervor, his hands gripping my hips as he drives us both higher.

The tension coils tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, and I shatter beneath him, screaming his name. He follows me over the edge, his own climax tearing through him with a force that leaves us both trembling.

He collapses beside me, pulling me into his arms as we lie there, our bodies still entwined. The aftermath is a cocoon of warmth and contentment, our breaths mingling in the quiet of the room. I rest my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as I try to catch my breath.

We lay there in silence for a while, the weight of what just happened settling over us. There’s a sense of peace, a feeling that maybe, just maybe, we’ve found something real in the midst of all the chaos.

“Kirill,” I say softly, lifting my head to look at him. “I know things between us started out… complicated but hell, that was good.”

He cups my face in his hand, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “It was.”

I turn over, and he spoons me from behind. His body is warm and solid against mine, and it’s oddly intimate. I feel a flutter of confusion and vulnerability. He’s a dangerous man, a man I didn’t want to marry, yet here I am, feeling a strange sense of happiness and contentment in his arms. The juxtaposition of it all is almost too much to process.

We lay there in silence for a while, the weight of our recent lovemaking settling over us. My body is tired and sore, a reminder of just how intense the session had been. Kirill made me forget all my concerns, all my fears. I feel a sense of safety and security that I hadn’t expected to find in his arms.

As I let my eyes wander around the room, a family picture on his bedside table catches my attention. It’s a small, framed photo of a woman with kind eyes and a gentle smile. The resemblance between her and Kirill is unmistakable. “Is that your mother?” I ask softly, my voice breaking the silence.

Kirill is silent for a while, and I can feel the tension in his body. His arm tightens slightly around me, and I wonder if I’ve overstepped. Finally, he takes a deep breath and speaks, his voice low and filled with an emotion I can’t quite place. “Yes, that’s her.”

I wait, sensing that there’s more he wants to say. After a moment, he continues. “She was killed when I was fifteen. Right in front of me.”

A chill runs down my spine at his words, and I turn slightly to look at him, my heart aching for the pain I hear in his voice. “Kirill, I’m so sorry.”

He stares at the picture, his eyes distant as if he’s seeing something far away. “It was a rival gang. They wanted to send a message to my father. They broke into our home and… I watched them kill her. I was too young, too weak to do anything. I couldn’t save her.”

The raw pain in his voice is palpable, and I reach up to gently touch his face. “I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been for you.”

He closes his eyes, his jaw tightening. “That day changed everything. I swore to never be weak again. I dedicated my life to becoming strong, to ensuring that no one I cared about would ever be hurt like that again. It’s why I am the way I am, Violet. It’s why I’m so… tough.”

I finally understand. His unyielding nature, his fierce determination to protect—it all stems from that traumatic event. “I get it now,” I say softly. “Why you’re so driven. Why you’re so protective.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, a flicker of vulnerability showing through his usual stoic demeanor. “I’m sorry if I’ve been hard on you. I just… I can’t bear the thought of losing someone else.”

Tears well up in my eyes as I realize the depth of his pain, the burden he’s carried for so long. “You don’t have to apologize, Kirill. You’ve been through so much. I’m the one who’s sorry for bringing it up.”

He shakes his head, his hand moving to cup my cheek. “No, it’s okay. Maybe it’s good that you know. Maybe it’s time I let someone in.”

I press a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling a wave of emotion crash over me. “I’m here for you, Kirill. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

He says nothing, but I feel his arms tighten even more. He needs this, I think.

---