Page 184 of Bratva's Vow
The house itself was… understated for the kind of money we had. Smaller footprint, modern angles, two floors, clean gray and white with sleek black trim. Private lot. Tall hedges. Security potential. And the real thing that caught my eye—a pool tucked away behind high stone walls and a narrow glass sunroom that overlooked it.
Wren followed the Realtor inside, his steps growing more confident as he led us through the entranceway.
His eyes lit up as we stepped into the kitchen—open-plan, marble island, matte black appliances that made the place feel chic without being cold. He ran his hand across the counter like it was something precious, like it had been made just for him.
“Oh.” He spun in a slow circle. “This is…”
He didn’t need to finish.
I knew.This was the one.
The Realtor kept up his pitch—heavily soundproofed, temperature-controlled wine storage, smart home system, luxury master suite, custom gym built into the ground floor. Wren barely heard him. He was moving from room to room like a boy chasing fireflies. I trailed behind him in silence, pretending to look at light fixtures and water pressure when really I was watchinghim.
Watching him run his fingers along the French doors. Watching him peek out into the backyard, mutter something about the dog having room to roam. Watching his shoulders lower, bit by bit, like something had unclenched in him.
By the time we made it to the pool deck, Wren had gone still, his arms crossed over his chest. He stared at the water as the late afternoon sun painted little waves of gold across his face.
“This is it,” he said.
I didn’t say anything, but something almost reverent tightened in my chest. He looked… peaceful. That was rare.
He wandered off, trailing through the open hallway toward the kitchen again.
Which left me alone with the Realtor—Cameron. Youngish. Too polished. Too many teeth.
“He’s a ball of energy.” He fell into step beside me, way too close. “You’ve been together long?”
I gave him a sidelong glance. “Long enough.”
He nodded, too slow, eyes scanning my face a moment longer than polite. “Must be nice. Having someone to indulge and spoil you like that.”
“This house is for Wren. That’s all that matters.”
He smiled. Again, too long. Too knowing, leaning into me. “But is it whatyouwant? Because I think the second house we saw today is much more suitable for a man like you, Mr. Morozov—powerful and elegant.”
I narrowed my eyes.
Before I could say something sharp, footsteps returned. Wren stepped into the room like he owned the house already, and when he saw us, his gaze went straight to the space between me and the Realtor. His eyes cooled. His smile dropped.
“Ah, Maxim, I love it.” He walked up to me and wedged himself between me and Cameron, forcing the other man away from me. “How lucky am I to have a husband like you?”
He went up on his toes, slid a hand into my hair, and tugged my mouth down to his. It wasn’t a peck that was suitable for company.
It was filthy. Wet. Obscene.
Claiming.
I fucking loved this side of him.
He pushed his tongue past my lips without hesitation and moaned into my mouth like we were alone in our bedroom and not in front of someone.
I kissed him back, smiling against him because I knew exactly what this was.
Possessive little brat.
And it felt good.
I reached behind to grip his ass and squeeze. Wren pulled back, his cheeks flushed, and his lips slick and slightly swollen. He blinked at me, all fake-innocent. “Maxim, not here in public. When we’re alone…” He stroked my cheek and gave me a look. Would have served him right if I fucked him right there with the Realtor looking.
