Page 21 of Pregnant By the Bratva

“All I want to do right now is forget everything,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she clings to me, her tears soaking into the fabric of my shirt.

I can feel the weight of her pain, the desperation in her touch, and something inside me shifts. I reach up, wiping the tears from her face with the back of my fingers, my touch gentle, almost tender. Her skin is soft, warm beneath my fingertips, and I find myself wanting to take away the pain that’s etched so deeply into her expression.

“I can help you forget,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. My hand moves down, brushing lightly over the zipper of her hoodie. I wait, watching her closely, my heart pounding in my chest as I give her the choice. This is her decision, one she needs to make on her own.

She looks up at me, her eyes still brimming with tears, but there’s something else there too—something raw and vulnerable. Slowly, she nods, giving me the permission I was waiting for.

I reach for the zipper, pulling it down slowly, the sound of it filling the quiet room. Her hoodie falls open, revealing the smooth skin beneath, and I gently slide it off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor. She stands there, her breath hitching slightly as I reach for the hem of her shirt, lifting it over her head and tossing it aside. My eyes roam over her, taking in the sight of her bare skin, the way her chest rises and falls with each shaky breath.

I take a step back, my hands moving to my own shirt, pulling it over my head and discarding it. The air between us crackles with a tension that’s almost palpable, and I can see the shift in her expression—the way her sadness turns to something else, something more anxious, as she anticipates what’s coming next.

There’s something in her expression that gives me pause. “Sarah,” I say, “have you…?”

She shakes her head, eyes averted.

I smirk. “Then I’m happy to be your first.”

I reach out, my hands gliding over her shoulders, down her arms, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. She shivers slightly at my touch, her eyes fluttering shut as I pull her closer, letting our bodies press together. There’s a need in her touch, a desperation to forget, to lose herself in something, anything, that isn’t the pain she’s been carrying.

I lower my head, brushing my lips against her neck, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her skin as my hands explore her body, mapping out every curve. Her breath catches, a soft sound that sends a surge of desire through me, and I can feel her hands move to my chest, her touch tentative at first, then more certain as she lets herself give in to the moment.

Her fingers trail down my chest, her touch igniting a fire within me, and I respond by capturing her lips in a deep, searing kiss. She melts into it, her body pressing against mine, her hands sliding up to tangle in my hair. I deepen the kiss, pulling her closer still, until there’s no space left between us, nothing but the raw need that’s driving us both.

I guide her back onto the bed, lowering her gently as I follow, my body hovering over hers. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, filled with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation, and I pause for a moment, giving her the chance to stop, to pull away if she wants to. She doesn’t. Instead, she reaches up, pulling me down to her, her lips finding mine again in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry.

I let myself get lost in her, in the feel of her beneath me, the way her body responds to my touch. Her skin is warm, her breath coming in shallow gasps as I trail kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, down to the curve of her breast. She arches into me, her hands gripping my shoulders, urging me on.

There’s a need in her that matches my own, a desire to forget, to lose ourselves in each other, if only for a little while. As I continue to touch her, to explore every inch of her, I can feel the tension in her body slowly easing, the pain in her eyes giving way to something else—something raw and primal.

She whispers my name, her voice trembling, and I respond by pressing her deeper into the mattress, our bodies moving together, each touch, each kiss, a promise of more. I want to make her forget, to take away the pain that’s haunted her for so long, and as I look down at her, seeing the trust in her eyes, I know I will.

My hands glide over her skin, exploring every curve and dip as I pull her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Sarah’s breath hitches, and a soft, breathy moan escapes her lips as I trail kisses down her neck, letting my teeth graze her skin just enough to make her shiver. There’s something about the way she responds to my touch that ignites a fire deep within me, a need to see just how far I can push her.

I lift my head, locking eyes with her. “You’re mine tonight,” I whisper, my voice low and commanding, and I can see the flicker of desire in her gaze as she nods, her breath coming faster.

“Yes,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

“Good,” I murmur, my lips curving into a smirk as I lean down to capture her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging into my skin as she pulls me closer, and I respond by pressing her deeper into the mattress, my body pinning hers beneath me.

I move my hands to her hips, gripping them firmly as I slide down her body, my mouth following the path my fingers create. I take my time, letting my tongue trace the lines of her muscles, savoring every gasp, every moan that escapes her lips. She’s so responsive, so eager, and it only makes me want her more.

When I reach her waist, I pause, looking up at her. Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips parted, and I can see the flush of arousal spreading across her chest. I smile, a wicked glint in my eyes as I lower my head and press a kiss just above the waistband of her underwear.

“Ivan,” she breathes, her voice filled with need, and I chuckle softly, enjoying the way she’s so completely at my mercy.

“Patience,” I whisper against her skin, my hands sliding beneath the fabric and pulling it down slowly, savoring the anticipation that builds with each passing second.

Once she’s completely exposed to me, I let my hands explore every inch of her, my fingers tracing patterns over her thighs, her stomach, making her writhe beneath my touch. She’s so sensitive, so responsive, and I’m determined to make her feel every ounce of pleasure I can give her.

I move back up her body, claiming her mouth in another deep, heated kiss, while my hand slides between her thighs, finding her wet and ready. The moan that escapes her as I touch her is pure music to my ears, and I grin against her lips as I start to tease her, letting my fingers stroke her slowly, deliberately, just enough to drive her wild.

She arches against me, her hands clutching at my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin. “Please,” she gasps, her voice filled with need, and I can’t help but give in.

I push into her, her back arching as she cries out, the sound of her pleasure filling the room. I start to move, slow at first, savoring the way she feels around me, the way she responds to every thrust, every touch. She’s everything I want, everything I need, and I’m determined to make her feel it all.

“Look at me,” I command, my voice low and rough, and she does, her gaze locking on mine as I quicken my pace, driving into her with a controlled, deliberate force. The intensity between us builds, the pleasure mounting with every movement, until all that exists is the heat, the raw desire that binds us together.

She’s close, I can feel it, and I push her just a little further, my hand finding hers, pinning them above her head as I take her completely, claiming her in a way that leaves no room for doubt—she’s mine. Her breath catches, her body tensing, and then she’s falling over the edge, her release washing over her as she cries out my name.

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