Page 58 of Brutal Bratva King

“It’s a bit late to be asking where you are, dumbass,” Rodion says to her.

He disappears into the house. I see lights come on inside, then about ten minutes later his brother, Roman, walks him to the door wearing nothing but dark grey sweatpants. I guess the muscular body runs in the family.

They are discussing something and Roman looks annoyed. I can guess what it’s about.

Rodion shrugs, points to the car, and then throws me a smile which doesn’t match the rest of the conversation he is having with Roman. I smile back at him, my heart fluttering.

It doesn’t take long for Rodion to come back to the car.

He sighs when he gets in and pulls the door closed.

“He’s pissed off. I don’t blame him, though. And Ruslana got right out of bed and ran to the bathroom. It sounds like she’s going to have a long, unpleasant night.”

He starts the car and pulls out of the mansion's driveway. Finally, we are headed home. It’s been a long night and even though it didn’t end the way I hoped it would—I actually had a lot of fun. Rodion is a good dancer, and it was nice to see him let go a bit and just laugh with me.

“Rodya, I wanted to say I am really sorry about Ruslana. I feel so bad about how it ended. I should have listened to you and just let you send your men to fetch her,” I say to him, nervous to look in his direction.

He reaches out and touches my leg again. “No, hey, no—you don’t need to apologize. You were there for her. You did a great job keeping an eye on her. And I think the way it was handled tonight was the best possible solution.”

“Oh, really? How? She’s in a terrible state,” I say in shock.

He laughs. “Yes, the thing is that usually, I drag her out of the clubs before she can get into that state, so she’s never had to deal with a hangover or the consequences of her bad choices. Tomorrow, she will find out why I don’t let her do whatever she likes—because this is where it ends. And hopefully, she will have some recollection of almost being dragged home by that asshole—“ he sighs. “But honestly, Anya, you were amazing. And you took good care of her given the circumstances. Tonight would have been very different if you weren’t involved.”

He squeezes my leg a little tighter, a reassuring gesture that makes me smile. I am so relieved to know he isn’t angry with me.

Finally, we arrive home. I kick off my high heels as soon as we walk into the door. My feet press against the marble floor and the cold tiles soothe them. I hadn’t noticed how sore they were because I was having so much fun dancing all night.

Rodion closes the front door, then turns to me.

“Do you think our married life is just going to be a series of interrupted moments?” he says, his deep voice echoing in the quiet house.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, princess, I mean that I want time with you where no one interrupts us. Just you and me.” He takes a step towards me and wraps his arm around my waist. “You—me—and this red dress.” He chuckles, lifting me into his arms while my heart begins to beat wildly.

I giggle and hold onto him as he climbs the stairway towards his bedroom.

Rodion brushes his lips across my neck and the heat of his breath shivers over my skin leaving goosebumps on my neck and arms.

In his bedroom, he lowers me to the floor, leaning down he wraps his hand around the back of my head and kisses me, deep and intense.

The kiss shoots through me like lightning.

“I would have danced with you all night, princess,” he whispers against my ear. My heart swells with something I’ve never experienced before. It’s the way his words make me feel.

A soft moan escapes my lips when he reaches down and runs his hands up the back of my thighs, pulling my dress up. He grabs my ass, letting his fingers slip between my legs, teasing me, like he has been teasing me all night.

My breathing grows faster and heavier. I have to force myself to focus because my thoughts are slipping away to enticing places I’ve waited so long to experience with him.

I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, tugging him back towards my mouth so I can taste him again.

His cock is hard and pressing against me and our bodies are moving together like we did on the dance floor.

He growls, pushing me away from himself, he pulls the buttons of his shirt open and tosses it to the floor, then grabs his belt and unbuckles it, pulling his pants off. My eyes take in all of him. His sculpted body. Chiseled and perfect. I can’t believe he is my husband. He’s fucking gorgeous. The dark ink of a serpent tattoo starting on his hip curls upwards over his muscled ribs and threads around his broad shoulder onto his back, out of sight. I’ve seen it before, but seeing it now again—really looking at it—I want to run my tongue over the pathway it has etched into his skin. I want to trace my fingers over the detailed artwork on his body.

My pussy throbs, begging me to be with him. I want to know what he feels like inside me. His monstrous cock, thick and rock hard.

I slide my panties down my legs, stepping out of them, watching him move, the way his muscles flex when he moves.

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