Page 53 of Stolen By The Bratva King

I fist a handful of her hair and fuck the ever-loving shit out of her, my orgasm careening toward me, unstoppable.

Emery’s sweet moans of ecstasy fill the air, and I drop my weight onto her, grinding my cock deep as I unload thick spurts of come into her twitching cunt. The bed linen is drenched, a patch of wetness spreading beneath us.

I can’t move at first; my legs are shaking too much. I never knew anything could feel as good as Emery’s tight pussy wrapped around my cock.

After a few minutes, my sweat begins to cool. I roll off my wife’s prone body, pulling the covers over us as I go, and trail my fingertips up and down her spine.

“Are you alright?” I ask.

Emery rolls her head, peering at me from the tangle of her hair. “I think so. But I’ll be able to feel that for days.”

I smile. “Don’t expect me to let you get over it, baby. You told on yourself; I know you want it hard, so expect to get it often. And if being sore is the price of a good fucking from your husband, is that too much to pay?”

She considers for a moment before slapping my arm playfully. “Fine,” she says. “You may be right.”

She rolls onto her back and stares at the ceiling, and we’re silent for a few minutes.

“This is messed up,” she says suddenly. “We don’t even know each other. What’s happening?”

I was wondering that myself.

How did this woman get under my skin so quickly? I kept my heart under lock and key, well guarded, and many tried to get to it, to no avail. How did Emery waltz into my fortress and take it without a fight?

She’sgood, that’s how, untainted by the paper-thin morals and shallow loyalties that are the foundations of the world I built.

This city is mine from the streets up, but this kind, intelligent, caring angel knows nothing of my kingdom.

My obsession isn’t waning; far from it. As I lie here, listening to Emery’s gentle breathing, I’m beginning to understand my predicament.

I thought I could steal her from her shitty life and dazzle her with devotion, gifts, and fantastic sex, but I now realize—it could never be enough.

I cannot hide the savage truth about my lifestyle for long, and when it comes out, she will leave me.

I’m a stone-cold bastard. I took her virginity—a gift she can only give once. It’s not just that; I denied her agency, made choices for her, and demanded she acquiesce, regardless of her feelings.

Still, she remains gentle and empathic; how could she be anything else?

I make a mental note to send my accountant to Alec Bright’s home for a surprise visit. After everything I’ve taken from him, the least I can do is fix what I can, but I can’t give up his daughter now she’s in my clutches.

The truth remains—no matter how strong my feelings may become, I don’t deserve Emery and never will.

And when she figures that out, I will lose her.

I wake with a banging headache. I shake my head, trying to fix the buzzing, until I realize it’s my phone vibrating on the table in the lounge.

Cursing under my breath, I leave Emery sleeping, closing the door behind me. I snatch my phone and answer it.

“Viktor, for fuck’s sake! What time is it?”

“It’s four a.m. Don’t you think I have a good reason to call now?”

“Alright, what?”

“Our good friends, the traffickers, were smart enough to create a legitimate paper trail for their fake business,” he says. “They have documents supporting a minor freight carriage company, including dock fees and import/export visas.”

I rub my face with my palm. “So?”

“So I wanted to ask: what happened to Dante Firenze?”

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