Page 41 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

"Anyway," Fedor continues casually, "before I leave, there's something I need your help with, Anoushka." He gestures toward a stack of data records on my desk. "I left some information about our restaurant's menu sales there. Could you take a look and tell me which items we can do without and how the ingredients purchase orders need to be reshuffled?"

"Done, Fedor," Anoushka replies, her gaze still locked on mine. She knows exactly what effect she has on me, and she's enjoying every second of it.

"Thank you, dear sister-in-law," Fedor says, standing up from his chair. "Well, I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Enjoy your time together."

"Goodbye, Fedor," I manage to say, my voice strained. As soon as he's gone, I exhale a frustrated breath, trying to shake off the lingering unease.

The door clicks shut behind Fedor, and I'm left alone in the room with Anoushka. She walks away from me and leans against the edge of my desk, her arms crossed and a playful smile on her lips as she stares at me. It's as if she knows exactly what's going through my mind.

"Jealous, Nikolai?" she teases, raising an eyebrow. Her voice is light and sweet, like honey, but it only serves to fuel the fire within me.

"Of course not," I snap, perhaps too harshly. "I just don't trust him. Not around you."

Anoushka laughs, and it's a sound that both irritates and captivates me. "You're being ridiculous. Fedor and I were just talking. Besides, do you really think he’d try anything? With me?”

"Well, I don’t know. You could bring any man to his knees," I challenge, stepping closer to her. The tension between us is palpable, like an electric current running through the air. My heart races as I reach out and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"Is that so?" Anoushka smirks, her blue-green eyes locked onto mine. "Well, isn't it a lucky coincidence that there's only one man who can bring me to my knees?"

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, washing away my jealousy and replacing it with a surge of desire. When she says it like that, I can't deny the truth in her statement. I've been a fool—allowing my insecurities to cast doubt on my brother, my wife.

She’s right. Besides, Fedor prefers women over 40. Anoushka, not yet in her 30’s… never.

Suddenly, I feel utterly insane for ever having that thought.

"Anoushka, you… you drive me crazy," I say, my voice rough with emotion.

“Do I now?” she whispers, biting her lower lip, her fingers grazing with the hem of her dress. My pupils almost blast out of my eyes when, to my surprise, she pulls the hem up, skirting it dangerously close to giving me a view of her panties.

“What the hell?” I moan with pain from all the days I’ve been deprived of her.

"What seems to be the problem?" She asks, her voice low and sultry, pulling the material back down over her thighs.

"Never mind," I mumble, the rawness of my desire taking hold of me. I can't control myself anymore.

In one swift motion, I yank her toward me, my hands gripping her hips as I pull her dress up and over her head. It rips apart, caught between my urgency and the roughness of my hands.

She stands there naked, in a push-up bra and her panties. Damn it. I reach over and place my hands beneath her ass, squeezing into her as I push her back.

She moans as I press her against the desk, my lips finding hers in a searing kiss. Our tongues tangle, our breaths mingling as we devour each other. I feel her body tremble against me, her fingers threading through my hair as she pulls me closer.

"I've missed you so much," she breathes against my lips, her voice trembling with need.

"I know,” I whisper back, my hands now reaching for my belt. She slides off my coat jacket and removes my tie. I work on bringing my trousers to the ground.

Within five seconds flat, I stand naked before her in nothing but my boxers.

My body screams out for her. My lips now crash down onto hers with a savagery. Her mouth is warm and inviting, and I can taste the hint of tea on her tongue.

The possessiveness I felt at the thought of her being with another man comes back to me. I take off my boxers and chase the rush to claim her by sliding her legs around my waist, my cock pushing through her panties, letting her have a feel.

She lets out a soft moan, her hands gripping my back as I grind against her. I can feel her heat, her need, her desire for me. I take her breasts in my hand, teasing her pebbled nipples beneath the lace of her bra, as the top of her breasts spill out in fluid motion every time I playfully change how I grind her.

I watch, entranced, and she moans, arching into me, her breasts filling my hand.

I need to feel her skin, the smoothness of all of her. In a rough motion, I take her straps in my hand and tug them down her arms halfway, pulling down the cups of her bra till they rest beneath her breasts. I watch as two perfect globes lay before me, her nipples perked, hard and wet. I lower my head, taking one into my mouth, my teeth grazing over it, eliciting a soft moan from her. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, making me moan, as the sensation of her nipple on my tongue and the softness of her skin on my face consume my senses.

I alternate between both nipples, occasionally biting down, making her shiver and moan, her body writhing beneath me as I tease her pain threshold. Her breathing quickens and her hips start to move beneath me.

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