Page 3 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

“Wait,” I say, “I’ve never—”

“Do you want this?”

I swallow. “Yes.”

“Then just enjoy it.”

When he slides past my slick folds, it’s like nothing I’ve felt before. He’s so warm, and thick, and I moan as my walls clench around his cock. He’s so big it’s like he could split me open.

Makar says nothing as he make love, but he makes me come with a low moan. My body is alight with fire as the orgasm washes over me like a tidal wave, and it leaves me a whimpering, breathless mess against the mattress,

When it’s over, I’m left trembling, my body still humming with the aftershocks of his touch. Makar lies beside me, his arm draped lazily over his forehead as he stares at the ceiling.

I turn my head to look at him, my chest tightening at the sight. There’s something vulnerable about him in this moment, something raw and unguarded. It feels like I’m seeing a side of him no one else has.

“Stay,” I whisper, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

His lips curve into a faint smile, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The gesture is so unexpected, so gentle, that it steals the breath from my lungs.

“You’ll be fine,” he says finally, his voice low and almost… affectionate?

I want to ask what he means, but the weight of exhaustion pulls me under. My eyelids grow heavy, and I let myself drift, the sound of his steady breathing lulling me to sleep.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know he won’t be here when I wake up.

For now, I let myself believe in the illusion of safety by his side.

Chapter Two - Makar

The faint hum of the city buzzes outside my office window, but it’s nothing compared to the pounding in my skull. Paperwork is a necessary evil, though I hate every second of it. Contracts, accounting records, agreements with people I’d rather see buried six feet under—I sift through them all with growing irritation. My desk is a mess of leather-bound ledgers and sleek laptops, the dichotomy of old-world tradition and modern business.

Andrei’s knock at the door interrupts my thoughts. Three sharp raps, precise and impatient.

“Come in,” I say, not looking up.

Andrei steps inside, his boots heavy against the hardwood. His expression is as serious as always, the tight line of his mouth signaling that whatever he’s about to say will test my already thin patience.

“You have a visitor,” he says, his tone neutral.

I don’t bother masking my irritation. My pen drops onto the desk with a sharp clatter, and I finally meet his gaze. “Why wasn’t I informed of thisvisitorin advance?”

Andrei doesn’t flinch, which is one of the reasons I keep him close. The man has a spine, unlike most. “She showed up unannounced.”

“She?” That catches my attention. My eyes narrow, my interest piqued despite my annoyance.

Andrei nods. “A young woman. Says it’s urgent.”

My fingers drum against the desk as I lean back in my chair. A young woman, here, demanding my time? The curiosity is enough to temper my anger, if only slightly.

“Does she have a name?” I ask.

“She didn’t say,” Andrei replies. “Just that it’s important.”

For a moment, I consider telling him to send her away. It wouldn’t be the first time someone thought they could barge into my world demanding an audience. The fact that she had the gall to come here—alone, from the sound of it—is intriguing. Stupid, but intriguing.

“Fine,” I say, waving a hand. “Bring her in.”

Andrei nods once before disappearing through the door. I take a moment to compose myself, straightening the papers on my desk. My irritation simmers just below the surface, but I mask it well.

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