Page 72 of Stolen By The Bratva King

She tenses as I slide her slowly down, her inner walls yielding until I’m as deep as I can go.

“You look so pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

I kiss her cheek, watching the mirror as I slip my hand between her legs, the other wrapping her throat. “Now lift your heels up onto the mattress so you can ride me right here.”

Emery moves as instructed, and the position opens her up even more.

She groans as my last inch sinks into her pussy. I move my fingertips over her clit, and she begins to flex her quads, raising herself off my shaft.

Sweet Christ.

She’s taking it slow, getting used to the feeling, but it’s torture. I want her to feel empowered, to understand she’s a goddess, but I’m not sure I can handle letting her take the wheel.

I focus on our reflection, trying to ignore the sublime view of my cock disappearing inside her each time she lowers her hips, and realize her eyes are closed.

“Look at yourself,” I murmur in her ear, stepping up my attention to her clit. “You’re beautiful, Emery. So fucking beautiful.”

Her eyes are open now, and as they meet mine in the mirror, we both come undone.

I squeeze her throat as I thrust up into her, meeting her movements and plunging deep into her cunt as it spasms around me, her internal walls pressing in.

I release her throat so I can cover her mouth again, and she squeals into my palm, drenching me in a fresh surge of juice as I unload my come into her depths.

I fall onto my back, taking her with me, and she rolls face-first onto the bed, panting into the sheets.

“How can we live this way?” she asks. “Who are you? How can you lead such a dangerous, immoral life yet care for me the way you do? It doesn’t make sense.”

I prop myself on my elbow and look at her.

“I can’t explain,moya zhena. All I know is that I’m sorry. Sorry for lying, for manipulating you, and for letting your father get hurt. As long as I live, I will never put myself before you ever again.”

The following morning…

We took a room in the house that was better suited to sharing, with a comfortable Cali king. After the drama of the day, I was consumed by the worst exhaustion I’d ever felt, and I realized just how afraid I’d been.

Violence, threats, the constant undercurrent of menace and volatility; I’m used to that. But Emery is part of that now, and the stakes may be too high for me to bear.

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

The whole thing is kinda ironic—for me to love her enough to care what happened to her, I had to pull her close and refuse to let her go.

In doing so, I put her in mortal danger, a danger I don’t yet understand.

I check my cell to find an unprecedented zero notifications.

Weird.Viktor’s messages usually range from essential business intel to random trivia and crude jokes, but pointless or not, receiving no communication is strange. Especially when he’s supposed to be interrogating the only person who can lead me to Dante.

I dress and head for Alec’s study to find him awake, Emery at his side. He’s wrinkling his nose at French toast but enjoying a milky coffee, and his face has its color back.

“Good morning, Leon.” He nods at the empty chair on the opposite side to Emery. “Come and sit for a while.”

“Glad to see you looking so well,” I reply. “Where’s Demyan?”

“I came down at six and let him get some rest,” Emery says with a smile, meeting my eyes. “He went to the fitness suite first, then reappeared long enough to do one last check before getting his head down.”

“So Dr. Brodsky was wandering around with no shirt after getting his pump on?” I shake my head. “That’s what you’re telling me. I know him.”

Emery’s smile breaks into a broad grin. “If I were someone else or wanted him dead at your hands, I’d say he was gorgeous. Is he single?”

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