Page 103 of Bratva's Intern

“I gave you my promise. I wasn’t going to break it.”

Not for Archie.

Not for all the cryptocurrencies in the world.

He leaned down and kissed me. Slow, drugging, full of heat that smoldered low in my belly.

The kiss deepened fast. I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to. He was warm and needy against me, his hands in my hair, his mouth hungry and eager. When he slid his tongue against mine, I growled low in my throat and flipped him onto his back.

He wrapped his legs around my waist instantly.

“Max…”

God, the way he said my name.

Like it meant something.

LikeImeant something.

“I thought about you every night,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine. “Wanted you every night you were gone.”

“Show me,” I said. “Show me what you wanted.”

He did.

He pulled me down and kissed me like he’d never get enough. His hands roamed under my shirt, nails scraping lightly over my abs, then lower, teasing the edge of my boxers until I swore and pulled my shirt off over my head.

When Wren saw the bandage, he gasped softly and stroked the edge of it.

“You’re hurt. What happened?”

“Just a graze.”

He pulled his brows together. “Max…”

“Shh. I’m here. I’m alive. I’ll be inside you tonight, sweetheart, not in a grave.”

His pupils darkened. His breath caught. “God, you’re?—”

I kissed him again, swallowing the fear that had entered his eyes. Eventually, his body relaxed under me, and he grabbed my hip, pulling me down while he punched up. His hardness rubbed against my stomach. I pressed against it, and he threw his head back, a cry escaping his lips.

I trailed kisses down his neck. As I ventured lower still, his sighs grew shaky. His skin was so soft under my mouth, warm and scented lightly with whatever fancy body wash he had used earlier. Rosemary and mint. My new favorite combination.

“You smell like heaven, solnyshko. Sweet and clean and all mine.”

A shiver ran through him as I kissed his belly button, then moved lower to tease the edge of the lace with my tongue. I pushed Wren’s thighs apart and settled between them, trailing kisses up the soft skin until I reached the black lace stretched over his cock.

The dark mesh clung to every ridge and vein, and a wetpatch already bloomed at the tip. I ran my tongue over it slowly, tasting him through the fabric—salty, warm,mine.

His moan was sinful. The way he tipped his head back, fingers gripping the sheets.

I mouthed him through the lace, slow and deliberate, letting my lips shape around the curve of him, letting the heat of my breath sink in until he was panting like he couldn’t catch air.

“Max, oh god, please.”

The sound of his desperate cry just made me hungrier. I sucked at the head through the fabric, teasing the droplet of precum that had soaked into the mesh.

So much of it.

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