Page 36 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

She feels it, too. I know because her cheeks flush, and her breathing quickens. The air between us suddenly crackles with electricity.

We both stand up slowly. Anoushka steps toward me, her eyes dark and inviting. Unable to resist any longer, I pull her into my arms and capture her lips in a hungry kiss. Her body melts against mine.

Our kisses grow more heated, hands roaming urgently. I sweep her up into my arms, carrying her toward the counter while trailing kisses down her neck. She sighs softly, fingers tangling in my hair.

I set her down on the counter, gazing at her flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips. She's so beautiful it makes my chest ache.

I reach for the top she has on and tug at the first button. Damn it. This will take too long. Without a second thought, I rip it open. She gasps, her blue eyes wide with surprise as her breasts peek out at me through her bra. I dive in for another kiss, fondling her breasts, her taste mixed with hints of tomato still on her lips. She’s intoxicated.

I hitch up her skirt, she takes off my belt. I rip off my own shirt while she unzips my pants. Clothes now mostly discarded, I pull her off the counter, and flip her around. My hands slide down her shoulders till they reach her wrists, and I plant them firmly on the countertop, pulling one hand back to gently guide her neck forward till she leans in front of me.

“Now, stay like that,” I command before ramming my cock into her. Over and over again.

***

In the days that follow, we steal every possible moment together, unable to keep our hands off each other now that we've crossed that line. At every chance, I pull her into my arms, capturing her lips in hungry kisses that leave us both breathless and wanting more. The fire between us burns hotter than ever.

I've never felt more alive than with her by my side. My stubborn, fierce, passionate Anoushka. All I have is eyes for her, whether we’re in the office or the bedroom.

***

An urgent summons from the Zolotov brothers bursts my week-long blissful bubble with Anoushka. I'm immediately on edge as I make my way to meet them, wary of what fault they might find in our alliance now.

As far as I know, our joint projects are unraveling effortlessly.

Maybe they wish to tell me, “Good job”?

Yeah, right.

The tension in the room is palpable when I arrive. Boris, Damien, and Lev glare at me, hostility rolling off them in waves.

“Gentlemen,” I begin calmly.

"Where the hell have you been, keeping our sister from us?" Boris growls.

I raise my hands placatingly. "Anoushka is her own woman. I don't keep her from anything, especially her own family."

"Bullshit," Lev spits. "Ever since the past two weeks, she's been attached to your side. She hasn’t come around to the house, and she hasn’t been coming into the office. What are you up to, Orlov?”

I bite back a sharp retort. Getting defensive won't help my case.

"I would never come between you and your sister," I say evenly. "But you can't dictate her choices. She's free to spend her time as she wishes. But, since you do wish to know, she decided to take some interest in our family business too."

Damien's eyes bore into me, cold and calculating. "Perhaps, on our behest, you'll encourage her to reconnect with us. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all."

I clench my jaw. They're trying to manipulate me, but I won't take the bait.

"I'll encourage her," I reply. "But I won't force her. If she’s not seeing you as much as you’d like, you’ll have to take it up with her.”

The brothers exchange loaded looks. I brace myself for the next salvo.

Boris leans forward, fingers steepled together. "Since Anoushka seems so reluctant to work in our folds, we need to consider… other options."

My eyes narrow. "What exactly are you proposing?"

"Our Zolotov cousins back in Moscow," Boris says matter-of-factly. "A few of them coming here would reinforce our alliance and help us have more hands on deck. While our alliance is functioning, some of our personal ventures are suffering from redirected resources."

“Your cousins?” I ask through gritted teeth. There are more?

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