Page 37 of Accidental Bratva Daddy

When Natalia and Elena return, it's clear they've both been crying. Elena's makeup is slightly smudged, and Natalia's eyes are rimmed with red. Neither looks happy with how the conversation went, and the tension only ratchets up further as the night wears on. The rest of dinner passes in a blur of forced pleasantries and careful conversation. Finally, mercifully, Elena and Alina take their leave.

As soon as the door closes behind them, Natalia collapses into my arms. I hold her close, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair—jasmine and something uniquely her—as she buries her face in my chest.

"I knew she'd react like that," she murmurs, her words muffled against my shirt. "I just wished... she'd prove me wrong. Just this once, I wanted things to be uncomplicated, mother and daughter like before.”

I stroke her back soothingly, feeling the fine tremors running through her body. "I know it hurts," I tell her. "But in a way, you're lucky. You have a family who cares enough to worry, to want what's best for you."

Natalia pulls back slightly, studying my face. Her hand comes up to trace the line of my jaw, feather-light. "What happened to your parents, Luka? You never talk about them."

The question sends a familiar ache through my chest. I consider deflecting, but Natalia deserves the truth—or at least, part of it. "They were murdered," I say quietly, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. "By a rival organization. I was sixteen years old when it happened. Overnight, I went from a boy to a man.”

Natalia's eyes fill with fresh tears. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, her touch infinitely gentle. "I'm so sorry," she whispers. Then, after a moment, "I'm scared, Luka. About bringing the twins into this world. Your world."

I tilt her chin up, making her meet my gaze. "They'll be fine," I assure her with a conviction I wish I felt. "Because we're going to be great parents. I promise you they won't have any involvement in the mafia world. They'll be safe, protected. Happy."

"How can you be sure?" she asks, vulnerability clear in her voice.

"Because I will burn the world to the ground before I let anyone hurt them," I vow. "Or you."

Before she can voice more doubts, I press my lips into hers, kissing her deeply. She melts into me immediately, her mouth soft and yielding under mine. What starts as comfort quickly blazes into something more heated, more desperate. Her fingers tangle in my hair as I deepen the kiss, tasting the salt of her tears mixed with the sweetness that is uniquely Natalia.

She presses closer, her body molding to mine as if we were made to fit together. My hands span her waist, feeling the slight swell of her stomach where our children grow. The thought sends a surge of possessive pride through me.

Then, to my surprise, Natalia begins to sink to her knees. The candlelight flickers across her face, highlighting the curve of her cheekbones, the determined set of her jaw. Her hands slide down my chest, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through me.

“Natalia,” I breathe, my voice rough with desire. “You don’t have to?—”

She looks up at me through her lashes, her green eyes dark with want. A coy smile plays at the corners of her lips. “I want to,” she says simply. “Let me take care of you for once.”

Her words, so unexpected yet so welcome, send a wave of heat through me. I shift slightly, adjusting my position on the chair, anticipation thrumming through my veins and hardening my cock.

Her hands continue their slow descent, pausing at the buckle of my belt. She looks up at me again, seeking approval. I nod, my throat suddenly tight.

With deft fingers, she unbuckles my belt, the sound echoing in the sudden silence of the dining room. The air crackles with tension.

She lowers my pants, her touch feather-light against my skin. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, my arousal threatening to overwhelm me as my cock springs free.

Her warm hand wraps around my shaft, and I gasp, my head falling back against the chair. Her touch is both gentle and firm, expertly stroking, teasing, driving me to the edge of madness.

Then she parts her pretty pink lips and lowers her mouth to the head of my cock. I inhale sharply as she tongues it experimentally, holding myself back so I don’t push her too far.

But I underestimate her. After a few experimental licks and strokes, she takes me into her mouth and sends me to the edge of bliss. Natalia’s clever mouth and talented hands reducing me to a state I’ve never experienced before. The feel of her lips against my skin, the warmth of her breath, the rhythmic pulsing of her hand—it’s a symphony of sensation that leaves me breathless, helpless. Especially because I know it’sher, this fiery and stubborn woman who defies me at every turn and yet is the only one who knows me this way.

I groan, pulling my fingers through her silky hair, urging her closer, thrusting lightly inside her. The world narrows to the feel of her mouth, the taste of her, the scent of her perfume mingling with my own arousal.

She hums softly against me, the vibration resonating through my entire body until my toes curl. Her rhythm increases, her touch growing more insistent, and I know I’m close.

“Natalia… I’m about to…”

Instead of backing off, she takes me deeper, strokes harder, and that’s all it takes. I groan her name in my throat, pumping everything I have into her mouth. The release is intense, earth-shattering, leaving me weak and trembling.

When I come down from the blissful high, it's with the earth-shattering realization that this woman owns me completely. Body and soul, I am hers.

As she rises, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her hand, I pull her into another kiss. My lips find hers, hungry, demanding. This woman, my precious wife, holds my heart in her hands.

I taste myself on her mouth, the pleasure I’ve experienced mixed with the sweetness of her saliva, and it turns me on all over again. I don’t think I could handle another orgasm like that again without succumbing to it, though, so I simply enjoy the beautiful moment she’s given me.

The woman in my arms is either my salvation or my destruction—and God help me, but I’m starting not to care which. Because either way, I’m hers. Until the bitter end.

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