Page 33 of Stolen By The Bratva King

So vulnerable, yet so stubbornly proud. Her innocent beauty sends a jolt of heat through me, but despite my rapidly growing erection, I don’t let myself react yet. Instead, I lean back, forcing myself to keep my composure.

“Ask your next question,” I say, my voice coming out a little rougher than I intended.

She wraps her arms around her midriff as though trying to hide. “What exactly do you do?” she asks. “What’s your business?”

I knew this was coming, and I won’t lie, but the whole story is unnecessary. Besides, I want those sweatpants on the floor, and I’m not gonna let a little thing like the truth get in my way.

“This and that. Business acquisitions, takeovers. I make threats, and sometimes, I remove them.”

It’s not the answer she wants. She’s weighing it, trying to parse the meaning behind my words, but she doesn’t push me further.

Instead, she lowers her eyes for a moment, gathers herself, and then slides her pants down her hips, standing before me in nothing but her panties.

It’s almost too much. The sight is enough to undo every thread of control I’ve managed to hold onto, and I feel a surge of possessiveness that’s almost primal, a fierce need to claim her, to mark her as mine.

My cock throbs painfully, and there’s no hiding the obscene bulge in the towel.

“Let’s flip the script,” I say, taking a step toward her. “I’ll ask you something. Were you telling the truth about being a virgin?”

Her cheeks flush even deeper, and she looks down, her fingers twisting together. But she nods, barely meeting my gaze as she whispers, “Yes.”

It’s my desired answer, but I’m still reeling from it. She’s like a treasure, a prize I haven’t earned.

Emery’s untouched perfection stirs something feral inside me, and I can deny myself no longer.

Without breaking eye contact, I reach down and loosen the towel around my waist, letting it fall to the floor, and I grab my cock and stroke it, drawing a gasp from her lips.

A flicker of uncertainty, mixed with raw, unfiltered desire, crosses her features. For a second, I consider holding back, giving her time to adjust and understand what she’s getting herself into.

Then I catch a shift in her posture, a shuffle of her feet as she watches me stimulate myself.

To Hell with her protestations; my wife is fooling no one. This pure, sweet angel has a needy little pussy, and I’m more than willing to oblige.

“I still have questions, Emery,” I murmur, stepping closer until there’s barely an inch between us. “But I have other ways of getting the answers.”

I snatch her waist in my hands and lean down, capturing her mouth in a kiss that’s anything but gentle.

She melts into me, her hands reaching for my shoulders, her body arching into mine as if she’s been waiting for this as long as I have.

Her skin is hot, and her supple curves engulf me, driving a growl from my throat. My cock moves between her thighs, sliding against her wetness, and she gives a mewling cry, her nipples tight where they rub against my damp chest.

“I was gonna do all kinds of things to you,” I murmur into her mouth, “and believe me,val'kiriya, I still will. But if I don’t feel those lips of yours around my cock, I’ll fucking die.”

22

Emery

Leon pushes me to the floor, his hands firm and possessive on my shoulders.

I should be telling him no, demanding he stop, but I can’t bring myself to say a word.

The carpet is soft under my bare knees, and before I can think my way past the fog of lust engulfing me, Leon’s hands weave through my hair, tangling at the roots.

Fight him, Emery.Demand answers, clarity—something more than this reckless, consuming desire.

But I’m not fighting. I’m not saying no.

“You’re too beautiful,” he says, his fingers tightening just enough to tingle my scalp. “Have a taste, baby. I need a little something so I can keep my cool long enough to give you what you need.”

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