Page 86 of The Bratva's Forbidden Pregnancy

She chuckled. “Until then.”

“Did someone call the cavalry? ‘Cause they’ve arrived,” Vlad said, halting beside me.

“Oh, thank God you’re here.” I let out a sigh of relief.

“Hand him over.” He smiled, and I didn’t hesitate doing so for a second.

The moment Zachar lay his head on Vlad’s shoulder, it was like he found peace, and all that whining gradually stopped.

“Hi, Vlad,” Fiona greeted him.

“Hi,” he replied, gently caressing the baby’s back, willing him to sleep.

“I’ll uhh…I’ll leave you two to it,” she said, excusing herself. “Later, Sia.”

I hugged her, and she smiled before dematerializing. Returning my gaze to my husband and child, my heart melted as I watched him rock the baby to sleep, holding him like he was an egg.

Since the birth of Zachar, Vlad had proven to be the best father that he could be, the best husband who was hell-bent on building a happy home for his wife and kid. Watching him now, being all cozy and sweet with Zachar, brought a bright smile to my face and filled my heart with gladness.

Soon, Zachar fell asleep, and I beckoned the nanny to come over. When she arrived, Vlad quietly handed him over to her.

“Make sure he sleeps peacefully,” he said to her.

She nodded and walked away.

“Father of the year.” I smiled at him.

“Just doing my job,” he said, reciprocating the gesture.

“Mrs. Wolkov.” A woman approached us and engaged me in a deep conversation about my work.

Vlad kissed my forehead and excused himself, leaving me with this art enthusiast who was obviously a huge fan. I loved talking about my work with people who appreciated good stuff. I later learned that her name was Gloria Salvador, a wannabe artist with a knack for impressionist art.

As the evening unfolded, I lost count of the number of times I’d caught Vlad staring at me mischievously. I recognized the look in his eyes; he wanted me, and that only made me wet. Each time we locked eyes across the hall, I’d feel my pussy tingle between my legs. I wanted him so badly and couldn’t wait until the day was over to have him fuck me. I literally couldn’t wait.

He was handsome, so hot and sexy in his usual impeccably tailored suit that revealed his build.

I was talking to a group of admirers when our eyes locked again, and he cast a flirtatious grin at me. Discreetly, I bit my lower lip, slowly running a finger around the rim of the glass in my hand.

He smirked and said a few words to his company. The fact that he was feet away from me meant that I couldn’t make out what he had said to them, but it sure seemed to me like he’d excused himself.

I watched him leave the group and head upstairs with a pointed stare in my direction. This was it, my opportunity to fuck him. He’d done that to call me out; it was a silent signal, and I was smart enough to get the message.

“I, uhm…” I said to those around me, clearing my throat. “I need to take care of something important. I’ll be back.” I drained my glass, set it on the nearest table, and followed my husband up the stairs.

I walked through the crowd, smiling and nodding at my guests, but deep down, I was hoping that no one would engage me in any conversation right now. I was burning with desire for my husband, and all I wanted was his dick inside me.

Increasing my pace, I rushed up the stairs, leaving the exhibition below. The hallway was empty and quiet, except for the sounds of my heels clicking against the floor.

The door to the art studio was partially open, and I smiled, looking back to make sure no one was following me.

That instant, I was pulled into the room by the wrist, and once inside, the door was slammed shut with my back resting against it.

“Naughty, naughty. You had me turned on downstairs,” Vlad said, pressing himself against me.

I moaned softly at his erection brushing against my legs. “Oh, yeah, what’re you gonna do about it?” I asked, teasing him with a low, sexy voice.

His cologne mixed with the smell of paint as I struggled to regain my breath.

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