Page 63 of Bratva's Vow
Small. Fragile. Completely fucking destroyed.
Because of me.
Something cracked inside me so sharply I actually staggered. The tight leash I’d been holding all these weeks snapped like wet paper.
I didn’t think. There was no thought left.
I stepped right into the scalding spray with him. The water burned my skin, but it was the least of my concerns.
Wren jolted when I pulled him upright. He didn’t resist, didn’t push me away when I dragged him into my arms. He sobbed harder, his hands fisting in my shoulders like he hated me and needed me all at once.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered fiercely, crushing him against my chest. The water soaked us both, hot and merciless. “Baby, I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I swear on my life.”
He clung harder, his cries muffled against my collarbone. “It hurts so bad, Maxim,” he choked out, breaking in real time right there in my arms. “I don’t want to forgive you. I don’t—I can’t. You’re horrible. You’re a criminal. You killed him. You killed them. I can’t love a man like you.”
The words gutted me. But I didn’t argue.
“I know,” I murmured against his temple. “I know what I am, Wren. I won’t pretend I’m not.” I framed his face with my hands and pressed my lips to his wet forehead, then lower, over his clenched eyelids. “I never wanted this for you. I never wanted to be the reason you cry. I just wanted to keep you safe. Even if that makes me a monster.”
He finally opened his eyes, glassy and red, mouth trembling as he tried and failed to hold it together.
I kissed his cheeks, his nose, his jaw. Desperate, reverent.
“Moya zhizn,” I whispered. “I know I hurt you, but let me make it better. Let me hold you. Please. I need you to let me in. I swear I can make it better if you allow me.”
His lips parted, but nothing came out. His expressioncracked, shattered, and he surged up, kissing me like he was drowning and I was the only thing left to hold on to.
The kiss was a sob. It was agony and fury and grief poured into frantic lips and teeth. He kissed me like he hated me, and I kissed him like I needed him to survive this mess between us.
Every press of lips and slide of tongue tasted like punishment. The sweetest punishment. My head spun. My lungs burned. I didn’t care.
His fingers clawed into my hair, dragging me impossibly closer.
I groaned into his mouth, sliding my hands down his slick back, gripping tight as he arched against me. We kissed like we were trying to erase everything that came before this moment and couldn’t quite manage it.
Wren broke first.
He tore his mouth away, panting harshly, his forehead pressing to mine. “I hate you,” he gasped, voice breaking apart.
“I know,” I murmured, running my fingers along his spine. “I know, baby. Hate me. Hate me all you need. Just don’t shut me out.”
His hands trembled against my shoulders, but he didn’t let go.
“But I still need you.”
He captured my lips again in another desperate, biting kiss. I took it all, his fury, his pain, his helpless want, and gave back nothing but need.
It turned frenzied fast. My hands slid lower, gripping his ass and lifting him against me. He wrapped his legs around my waist, clinging like a vine.
The water poured over us, but drowning was an afterthought. His teeth scraped my lip. Mine bruised his. There was no grace here. No slow seduction. This wasn’tmaking love. This wasn’t forgiveness.
This was devastation. This was heartbreak. This was the sharp edge of still wanting the man who ruined you.
“I’m the biggest fool in the world,” he whispered raggedly, pressing wet, frantic kisses along my jaw as his hips rolled against me. “You’ve made a fool out of me, Maxim.”
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear on my life. I’ll never hurt you again.”
He whimpered as I pressed closer, harder, hands bruising where they held. His lips parted on a moan that shot straight to my gut.
