Page 34 of The Bratva's Innocent Bride

“It does turn me on when you tell me what to do,” he murmurs, and this time, when I hook my thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, he doesn’t stop me.

Chapter 15 - Boris

Fiona moves painstakingly slowly, sliding my shorts down my legs, revealing my cock, which is so hard it’s practically painful. She quickly rids herself of her shorts, throwing them to the side of the bed, where they fall into a heap with mine.

“I’m on the pill,” she says, as she wraps her hand around my cock. Stars erupt in my eyes, and I have to grip the sheets to steady myself. The pain in my side is starting to subside, and I realize the painkiller must be starting to kick in.

“Okay,” I say, head dropping back against the pillow as she moves her hand along my cock, sending waves of pleasure through my body, “there’s a condom in my bedside table if you want it.”

“Nah,” she says just before licking my tip, and when I glance down, I see her tongue run over the precum. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed in my life, and I have to breathe intentionally to keep from coming right there.

Fiona launches into one of the best blow jobs I’ve ever had in my life, her hand moving in time with her mouth, taking me so deeply in her mouth I swear the tip of my cock touches the back of her throat.

“Fiona,” I say, reaching down as much as I can with my injury. “Fuck, if you keep going, I’m going to—”

“What are you saying?” she asks, popping her mouth off my cock and looking up at me. “Are you saying you don’t want to come in my mouth, Milov?”

“I’m saying I want to come in your pussy,” I growl, burying a hand in her hair and tugging her up so her ass is firmly in my lap again. When I feel my cock rub against her entrance, I grab her hips, helping her position herself, unable to wait a single second longer before I get inside her.

When I slide inside her, I have to close my eyes. She is so tight and wet around me, and once I’m buried to the hilt, I feel her squeeze her walls around me once, twice, before she starts to grind.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Fiona, what the hell—”

“What?” she asks, giving me a shit-eating grin before she squeezes the walls of her pussy around me again. “That? Oh, they’re just muscles like anything else.”

She continues like that, squeezing and grinding and rocking, burying me inside her, then pulling back and teasing me until I can’t breathe. When I feel like I can’t take it anymore, she leans down and licks up my chest, biting one of my nipples before finding my mouth.

This woman is insane, I think, right before unraveling and coming inside her.

***

Fiona is cuddled into me when I wake up, somehow avoiding my wounded side, even in her sleep. Slowly, I get out of bed and walk across the room. My side feels better, reduced to a dull throbbing rather than a sharp pain.

I’m thirsty, so I open the door and take the stairs one at a time down to the kitchen. Fiona—and everyone else—would have my head if they knew I was attempting this in the middle of the night without telling anyone first, but I’m thirsty. And I’ll have to return to normal life at some point.

Twenty minutes later, I’m in the kitchen, guzzling down a glass of water, when someone appears at the front door. At first, I go on high alert, reaching for the gun under the kitchen island until I realize it’s just Roman.

“Oh good,” he says, “you’re up. I come bearing news.”

Roman has been gallantly handling all my business since I went down from the stab wound. After this, I sense he’ll have a newfound appreciation for the role and what it requires of me.

“You didn’t say bad or good,” I mutter, moving to the refrigerator to refill my water. “That troubles me.”

“I’m not sure if it’s bad or good—it’s just information,” Roman says before taking a deep breath and sitting down at the kitchen island. “Also—I saw that you were gonna pull a gun on me.”

I grin at him.

“You can never be too careful. Now, spill. You’re killing me with the anticipation here.”

“You know how we put extra surveillance on the Allards,” Roman says, “well, tonight, we got something out of that. Turns out, they’re watching us closely, too. We’ve seen people not only at Noch but also frequenting Fiona’s regular spots—the coffee shop she used to go to, her library, and places she’s been with Olive. Of course, there are also plenty of guys stationed around their apartment building. Seems they’re waiting for Fiona to come back.”

I move to the counter, grab an apple, and take a bite. I’m suddenly ravenous, and I think it has to do with the fact that my body is still healing. Or, it could be related to what happened with Fiona earlier. My stomach tightens when I think of it, and I have to work hard to focus on my brother and what he’s saying.

“Makes sense,” I say, chewing my apple and choosing my words carefully. “If Fiona can escape, they’ll get some valuable intel. I wonder if Allard knows about Fiona’s background—that she’s very capable of escaping if she wants to.”

“Doubt it,” Roman says, tapping his fingers on the counter. “From everything we’ve seen, it appears as though the Allards believe Fiona is just a regular—someone Olive took in as a sort of pet project.”

“Have you gathered anything about Olive’s involvement in the Corsica?” I ask, fingers tightening on the apple. I think of Fiona’s face earlier, how it had looked like she was breaking apart when she thought about Olive betraying her or knowingly being involved in something as terrible as human trafficking.

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