Page 42 of Paid for By the Bratva

The words push me over the edge, and I cry out his name as I cum, my body convulsing beneath him. Dima groans, his hips pumping harder and faster, and then, I feel him shudder, and he erupts within me with my name on his lips, his eyes locked on mine as he feels me tighten around him.

I close my eyes. I see stars and lights. I forget where I am. I forget the world exists.

All I feel, breathe, hear is Dima.

And I wouldn’t want it any other way.

I feel him drip down my legs, but he remains inside, catching his breath as I do mine.

Finally, he slows his pace, pulls out, and collapses on top of me, his breath ragged. I wrap my arms around him, holding him close. In this moment, I know that I chose to see the perfect thing in front of me, and I don’t have a single regret.

Chapter 14 - Dima

The soft lights flicker above me, casting a kaleidoscope of colors onto the polished marble floor as I walk through the bar, warmly greeting guests I recognize. The gentlemen's club is alive tonight; its energy pulsates through me.

I might even have a drink.

I reach the bar and find Tony, one of my trusted bartenders, meticulously arranging bottles as the symphony of laughter and clinking glasses fills the air.

“Hey Tony,” I lean over, gaining his attention.

“Sup, Boss?” he asks, turning to face me with a grin.

“Is Lara’s new software helping out?”

“Boss, your wife’s changed my life. She’s knocked off an hour from reconciling sales figures, and she was right about predicting what sells using barcodes.”

I let myself smile. She’s not here tonight, but I can’t wait to get home and tell her what I learned. I knew she’d be a worthy addition.

“So we should implement her suggestions globally?” I reconfirm with pride.

“Without a doubt,” he says. Just then, his face grows serious, fixed at a sight behind me. "Your wife's brothers just walked in," he says without moving his lips.

I turn around, immediately spotting the formidable figures of Abram, Vladimir, Denis, and Mark by the entrance. Even in the midst of the club's beyond-powerful clientele, their presence is unmistakable.

After all, the entire world knows a Zolotov when they see one. And here, we have four. Each man exudes an air of authority and power that naturally commands attention.

"Great," I mutter under my breath, forcing a tight-lipped smile, wondering what they’re doing here. As much as I love Lara, dealing with her four older brothers is not a proposition I look forward to. They have always been protective of their sister, and now they view me as the one who stole her away.

But for her sake, I am determined to make an effort to build bridges.

"Hello, gentlemen!" I walk over to them and greet them warmly. “Meeting someone?” I ask, aware that they tend to frequent the joints overlooked by Nikolai usually. It's not every day they grace the club with their presence, and I can only imagine what brought them here tonight.

"Good evening, Dima," Abram says, his deep voice cutting through the din of the room. He's the eldest and the most level-headed of the bunch, but I know better than to let my guard down around him. Especially after observing how upset he was when I brought Lara,his sister,to the alliance meetings at the start. “We were in the neighborhood and thought we'd come by and see how our new brother-in-law is doing."

Sure. They werejust in the neighborhood. How many times have I heard that line before? Mostly from women far too interested in me, whose names I can hardly remember.

"You're more than welcome here anytime," I say politely. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Maybe later," Denis chimes in, his eyes scanning the room with obvious interest. He's the diplomat of the group, always trying to keep the peace between his hot-headed siblingsand anyone who dares cross them. "We were thinking of playing some cards. Would you have time to join us?"

I look at my watch, noting that I do have some things to look into. But nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow, considering how late it is anyway.

Besides, what other choice do I have?

"Sure," I agree, knowing that refusing their invitation would only lead to more tension. As we make our way to a secluded corner table, I can't help but feel a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

This could be an opportunity to win them over or a night where it all finally goes to shit. But regardless of what they have planned, I will not let them undermine her decision to marry me.

---