Page 29 of Pregnant By the Bratva

I slide into her slowly, savoring the way she gasps, her body arching against mine as I fill her. Her hands clutch at my back, nails digging in as she pulls me closer, needing to feel every inch of me. I move with purpose, my pace steady and unyielding, letting her feel the full force of our connection.

“You’re mine,” I whisper again, my voice a low growl as I thrust into her, each movement claiming her more thoroughly than the last. “Every part of you, Sarah. You belong to me.”

“Yes,” she breathes, her voice trembling with a mix of pleasure and surrender. “I’ve wanted this forweeks.”

The admission fuels me, and I pick up the pace, driving us both toward the edge. Her gasps and moans fill the room, mingling with the sound of our bodies moving together, the heat building to an almost unbearable intensity.

She’s close, I can feel it in the way her body tightens around me, in the way she clings to me as if she’s afraid to let go. I’m not far behind, the pressure building inside me until it’s impossible to hold back any longer.

“Come for me, Sarah,” I murmur against her lips, my voice thick with desire. “Let go.”

She cries out, her body shuddering beneath me as she reaches her peak, and I follow her over the edge, the pleasure crashing over me like a wave. For a moment, there’s nothing but the two of us, locked in this perfect, intense connection, and then we’re collapsing together, our breathing heavy and uneven as we come down from the high.

I stay above her for a moment, catching my breath as I look down at her. She’s beautiful like this, flushed and breathless, her eyes heavy-lidded with satisfaction. I brush a strand of hair from her face, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before rolling off her and pulling her close.

As she curls into my side, her body still trembling slightly from the intensity of our union, I feel a sense of completion settle over me. She’s mine now, in every way that matters, and I’m not letting her go. This is where she belongs—by my side, in my bed, as my wife and the mother of my child.

I hold her close, my hand tracing idle patterns on her back as her breathing evens out, and she drifts off to sleep. The room is quiet now, the only sound the soft rhythm of her breath, and I find myself content for the first time in a long while.

Chapter Sixteen

Sarah

The villa in Tuscany is breathtaking, with its sprawling gardens, ancient stone walls, and the scent of fresh lavender drifting through the air. As I step out of the car, I take a moment to appreciate the beauty around me. The rolling hills of Tuscany stretch out in every direction, and for a brief moment, I allow myself to imagine that this really is a honeymoon—a romantic getaway for two people deeply in love.

I know better.

This isn’t a honeymoon. It’s another business trip for Ivan, just one that happens to take place in one of the most beautiful regions in the world. He’s here for a deal with the Italians, and I’m just along for the ride. This is my life now—business deals, guns, and violence. There’s nothing sensual or romantic about it, no matter how picturesque the setting might be.

Still, I try to hold on to a positive mindset. I’m in Tuscany, a place I’ve always wanted to visit. I’ve dreamed of walking through the art galleries, seeing the masterpieces that hang on the walls of the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. It’s a small escape from the reality I’m living, but it’s something I want to hold on to.

“Ivan,” I say, turning to him as he checks his phone. “Since we’re here, I was thinking we could visit the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

He barely looks up, his attention fixed on whatever business deal he’s managing through his phone. “I have an important meeting today. It’s not happening.”

Frustration bubbles up inside me, but I try to keep my voice even. “I can’t stay cooped up in this room all day. If you’re busy, I want to go out on my own.”

His eyes finally meet mine, and I can see the tension in his gaze. He’s not used to being questioned or challenged, but I refuse to be just a pretty accessory on his arm. “Artem will go with you,” he says, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

I roll my eyes, a flicker of defiance sparking inside me. “Might as well have married Artem,” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” Ivan’s voice is sharp, a clear warning.

I force a smile, turning back to him with feigned sweetness. “I said, have a good day, dear husband.”

He narrows his eyes at me, but he lets it go, turning back to his phone as if the conversation is over.

I head out with Artem, trying to focus on enjoying the day despite the shadow that looms over every moment. We have lunch at a fancy restaurant, and I savor the local food, allowing myself to get lost in the flavors and the ambiance of the place. For a little while, I can pretend that I’m just a tourist, here to soak in the culture and beauty of Tuscany.

As we drive toward the Uffizi Gallery, Artem glances at me in the rearview mirror, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Do you like art?” he asks, his tone casual.

I hesitate before answering, my mind drifting to memories of a time when life was simpler, when I wasn’t entangled in the dark world of the Mafia. “Not particularly,” I admit, my voice soft. “But an old friend of mine did. We promised to visit this place together.”

A bitter smile tugs at my lips, and I turn to look out the window, trying to push down the wave of emotion that threatens to rise. The truth is, that promise was made in a different lifetime, before everything changed, before I became who I am now.

When we arrive at the gallery, Artem parks the car and stays outside, giving me a nod as I step out. I thank him and head inside alone, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and unease as I walk through the grand entrance. The gallery is as stunning as I imagined, filled with masterpieces that have stood the test of time. I wander through the halls, taking in the art, but my mind is elsewhere, lost in the past.

“Sarah?”

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