Page 42 of Arranged to Marry the Bratva

With a hand, I reach down between her legs, feeling her heat through her panties. It fuels the fire within me, and I know that I can't hold back any longer.

With a groan, I pull her panties to the side, my cock sliding against her wet folds. She gasps, her eyes widening as I fill her with my erection. It's been two weeks, and the feel of her tightness around me is pure bliss. I thrust into her, her nails digging into my skin as she meets my pace. Our bodies move in harmony, the slap of flesh against flesh echoing in the room.

I can feel the desperation in both of us, the need to be one with each other after so long apart. I pound into her, stand upright, and throw everything off my desk. Things clatter, fall, and break, but my hands grip her waist as she lies down on the desk, and I stand above her. I lose myself in the intense pleasure of being inside her.

Her moans become more urgent, more desperate. I can feel her tightening around me, her climax approaching. Her eyes lock onto mine, her gaze intense as I continue to drive into her.

“Nikolai,” she shrieks, her head bucking up. I grip her waist tighter with one hand, pushing her back down with the other. She bites down on one finger and her eyes roll to the back of her head, her eyes telling me it's what she wants.

I know I can't last much longer. I want to be inside her, fuck her until I can't suck air. I need my release just as much as she needs hers.

I line up my cock and thrust into her one last time, our bodies bucking wildly against each other. I can feel her walls gripping me tight, the wetness of her release soaking my entire thigh. Her nails pierce into my skin as I thrust harder, going deeper, deeper into her.

Just when I think I can't take it anymore, I feel her body shudder beneath me. Her walls clamp down around me, her muscles spasming with pleasure. She cries out my name, her voice hoarse with passion.

Her climax ignites mine, as my entire body clenches in pain, from the veins redirecting all the blood straight to my cock, which now pulsates with such life that the world goes black for a second while I feel like I’ve reached heaven itself. I gasp, choking on air, as I spill into her.

Time slows down to a halt. We're locked in an embrace, our bodies trembling as I fall down over her, my head resting on her breasts, my cock still in her, both of us riding out our wave of pleasure.

Chapter 18 - Anoushka

We step through the heavy wooden doors, and loud music assaults my senses. The room is dimly lit, filled with shadows dancing across the walls in time to the pulsing beat. Laughter rings out, punctuated by the occasional pop of a champagne cork.

"Anoushka, you made it!" Artyom spots us from across the room and strides over, pulling me into a hug. His cologne is spicy and intoxicating.

"What am I? Chopped liver?" Nikolai claps him on the back, playfully glowering at him.

“Not really,” Artyom pretends to think. “Just really boring.”

“And old,” I add, nodding furiously.

“Yeah,” Artyom sizes his brother up and down. “Boring and old.”

We both burst into laughter as Nikolai shakes his head at us, and I lean in to give Artyom a hug. “Happy birthday,” I say.

“Yeah, happy birthday, Brother. Twenty-one,” Nikolai whistles and pats Artyom on his shoulder. From within his coat, he pulls out a thin envelope with a cheque inside and hands it to Artyom.

“You really didn’t have to!” Artyom protests.

“We wanted to,” Nikolai says, taking my hand in his.

“Well, in that case, thanks,” Artyom grins from ear to ear, handing the envelopes to one of the patrolling guards.

"Come, I want you both to meet my friends." Artyom leads us through the crowd.

A statuesque blonde in a shimmering silver dress catches my eye. She's holding court near the bar, a martini glass clutched delicately in one hand as she tosses her hair over one shoulder, laughing throatily.

It’s only when I see her face that I feel shocked. Is that… Sofia?

I never noticed until now, but she is an absolute bombshell. Tonight, her poker-straight hair is styled in loose blonde curls, and she’s surrounded by young men. Most probably Artyom’s college friends and clearly, they’re lapping up each word she speaks.

Tonight, she’s the most fashionable woman in the room, barring none.

Just then, I feel Nikolai’s hand pull away and see he’s in conversation with Dima. Dima stops speaking, noticing me behind Nikolai, and to my surprise, walks past Nikolai to sling a loose, tattoo-laden arm across my shoulder.

“We’ve been wondering where you were,” Dima bellows in my ear.

“Just been a little caught up, you know?” I blush and try to explain why Nikolai and I have mostly been holed up in our house for a week. I just got my husband back from Paris! Someone give me a break.

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