Page 70 of Innocent Bratva Hostage

His mouth hovers against my collarbone, his breath warm against my skin. “You feel incredible,” he murmurs, his voice rough and edged with restraint. His hand on my stomach shifts, his thumb brushing over the fabric of my shirt. “Our baby,” he adds softly, and for a fleeting moment, I catch a vulnerability in his tone that he rarely lets show.

My fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer. “We’re fine,” I whisper, my voice a mix of reassurance and invitation. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Then he stiffens slightly, his kisses slowing until he finally pulls back. His gaze meets mine, his expression conflicted.

“No,” he says abruptly, sitting back on his heels.

I blink up at him, still breathless and caught off guard by the sudden shift. “No?”

Makar smirks faintly, his blue eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and something darker. “Not tonight,” he says, his tone light but firm. “It’s not a good idea.”

I narrow my eyes at him, propping myself up on my elbows. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans back, his hands resting on his thighs. “You’ll have to wait.”

My lips part in disbelief, a mix of frustration and amusement bubbling up inside me. I glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “You’re cruel.”

“Maybe,” he agrees, his tone full of smug satisfaction. “You’re the one who’ll be thinking about this all night.”

He steps closer, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to my forehead before turning to leave the room.

I fall back onto the bed, letting out a soft groan of frustration. Damn him and that maddening restraint.

Damn me for wanting him even more because of it.

When I glance up, Makar is staring at me with those intense blue eyes. My cheeks flush as he leans in to nip at my collarbone.

“You’re staring again,” I tease, trying to mask the breathlessness still lingering from his earlier touch.

“Can you blame me?” he counters, his tone low as he kneels back onto the bed.

My breath catches as he leans down, his lips brushing against my baby bump through the thin fabric of my shirt. The gentleness of the gesture sends a shiver through me, stark against the intensity he usually carries. His hands find my hips, holding me steady as he peppers kisses along the curve of my stomach.

“Makar…,” I whisper, my voice trembling with anticipation.

He looks up at me, his blue eyes dark and smoldering, a dangerous mix of mischief and affection. “You think I’m cruel?” he murmurs, his lips trailing lower.

“Yes,” I manage, though the word comes out more as a sigh than an accusation.

His smirk returns, slow and deliberate. “Then I’ll show you just how kind I can be.”

Before I can respond, his hands slide under the hem of my skirt, thick fingers sliding inside of me. My breath hitches as he crooks his finger, pleasure sparking through my tired body.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice rough with sincerity.

The words make my chest tighten, a wave of warmth rushing through me. His hands move with purpose, exploring, teasing, and the tension in my body builds until I’m lost in the sensations he’s drawing out of me.

He works me softly, gently, until I’m a whimpering mess against the pillows. I come quietly, my whole body shaking, a soft moan on my lips.

When he finally pulls back, leaving me breathless and flushed, his expression is softer than I’ve ever seen it. He shifts beside me, lying down on the bed and pulling me close. One of his arms wraps around my shoulders, while his other hand rests protectively over my bump.

His lips curve into a faint smile, and he presses a kiss to my temple, the warmth of his breath brushing against my skin.

For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel safe, cocooned in the strength of his embrace. As my eyes drift shut, his hand stays firmly over my belly, grounding me in the quiet assurance of his presence.

For tonight, that’s all I need.

Chapter Twenty-Four - Makar

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