Page 54 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

Chapter 21 – Tessa

It wasfunny how time flew when you were happy.

It had been seven months already, and clearly, it was more than enough time for my ruthless mafia husband to snake his way into my heart. I didn't think it was possible to get so comfortable around a man whose presence used to make me tremble in fear.

Over time, his actions and the way he took care of me during my third trimester had softened my heart. It was like I was living with a whole new different person—loving, understanding, patient, and committed. This was the version of my husband that existed at home nowadays.

Despite my reservations, I couldn't help but fall helplessly for this man. He'd proven that he could strike a balance between his work life and family life. When working, my husband was still the same old strict and cruel Bratva boss who terrified his enemies.

But when he was home with me, he was a completely different person: soft, sweet, and amazing.

Our bond had strengthened as the days went by, and the regular sex we had only made things easier, especially for me. My growing belly was never a problem, and I found myself always wanting him, craving him like never before. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but whatever it was, I couldn't help it.

Today, I sat at the dining table, my laptop a beacon of focus amidst the chaos of papers and notes scattered over the smooth, polished surface. My hands cradled my swollen belly, shrouded by the fabric of my loose gown. The baby growing inside me was rapidly changing my body, and these days, my back ached from the added pressure.

My dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail as I worked, staring into the lit screen. Its soft glow illuminated my face, casting a warm light on my determined expression.

It was a bloody tug of war within me, and my attention was split in half. I tried to stay focused on building my business plan, but at the same time, I couldn't bring myself to stop reminiscing about the incredible improvement in our sex life.

My fingers rubbed my tired eyes, and I arched my back, my body aching with exhaustion.

Sex with my husband these days was mind-blowing. We made love—slow, passionate, and easy, considering my condition.

I couldn't get enough of him, and if I was being honest, recently, sex with him hit differently—like super good!

The way he handled me like an egg and pampered me in bed was a clear indication of how much he adored and respected my body. I'd grown accustomed to my husband's possessive hands all over me, his skin against mine and his cock deep inside me.

His kisses were deep and filled with compassion. His every touch ignited a fire in me, a desire that seemed to overwhelm my whole body. Every time we made love, it was like I was losing my mind, and I had never felt such an intense passion before.

From the night of our reconciliation till now, we’d been having constant sex everywhere around the house. In the bathroom, we made love; in the kitchen, we made love, and a few times, he'd fucked me on the balcony late at night as well.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my nipples hardening at the mere thought of the crazy, sometimes nasty, things he'd done to me sexually.

I never imagined having my exit hole licked or eaten, nor had I thought that I would love it as much as I did.

My husband was an expert at pleasing his woman—he was a man with experience. He knew how to use every part of his body to pleasure me and make me feel alive. Erik made a woman out of me, and his touch always catapulted me to places I had never thought possible.

He made me shake like a leaf without even having to try so hard. His touch—fingers, hands, tongue—and, most importantly, his cock all made my body tremble in ecstasy. Every time we were intimate, I felt like I was drowning in a sea of sheer pleasure.

No wonder that old flame of his wanted another taste of him. She knew how great in bed he was and didn't even care that he was married. She just wanted him to fuck her. Honestly, with what I'd enjoyed from my husband recently, I couldn't blame her for wanting more of what she used to get from him. The man was a beast, a love-making machine that could take any woman to cloud nine in a matter of minutes.

It was like he understood the anatomy of women, like he knew the exact places to touch, when to touch, and how to touch said places. To be honest, it was the “how to touch…” that always made me lose my mind.

I leaned back in my chair. My fingers grasped the handle of my coffee cup, lifting it to my mouth. The savory aroma of freshly brewed coffee invaded my senses as I took a sip and set the cup back on the table.

I cracked my knuckles and edged closer to the laptop screen, attempting to concentrate on my work. Thoughts of my husband's cock and how good he made me feel had distracted me for some time now, and I was losing focus.

A soft sigh escaped my lips, and my brows furrowed in concentration, my fingers flying across the keyboard. I was working on some ideas for my brand—something I'd been cooking up within these past few days.

The laptop's screen glowed with a spreadsheet outlining my startup's financial projections. My gaze shifted to the large piece of paper on the table, which displayed a hand-drawn diagram of my business model. I'd included departments, roles, and responsibilities on the diagram.

In my head, I envisioned a small but smart team that could work with me and adapt quickly to the changes in the fashion industry.

My eyes darted to another paper showing a rough prototype design for my flagship clothing line. It was a sustainable, eco-friendly collection that featured modern, feminine silhouettes. My passion for fashion and sustainability shone through in every detail I included in that design, from the choice of fabric to the production methods.

Focused on my laptop screen, my fingers danced across the keyboard, typing out notes and ideas as they flowed to me. Fueled by my determination to make a difference in the fashion industry, I poured my heart and soul into this business plan.

As I sat there, engrossed in work, the atmosphere around me shifted. A presence registered in my peripheral awareness. I felt a prickle at the back of my neck, a sense of being watched, and for the first time, I was aware of his presence—no sudden appearances.

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