Page 65 of Bratva's Vow
“I know.” I kissed him softly, tenderly. “I deserve that.”
“I don’t want to want you,” he choked out. “But I do. And I hate that even more.”
My chest cracked open wide. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I tried. My hand fumbled until I found the small bottle of lube kept on the shelf. When I pressed slick fingers against him, Wren gasped softly, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “Maxim…”
“Let me make it up to you.” I kissed the curve of his neck. “Let me make you feel good, kroshka.”
His answer came in the form of a broken, shaky kiss, his mouth clinging to mine as he rocked forward, silently begging.
I took my time. I didn’t rush. Not this time.
When he was ready for me and panting, I lifted him in my arms. Wren reached for my cock and guided the swollen head against his slick hole.
The moment I pushed inside, everything else ceased to exist.
Wren let his head drop back with a sharp gasp and tightened his legs around me as I filled him slow and steady, letting him feel every inch. The heat, the stretch, the overwhelming weight of us, ofthis, wrapped around us like the steam still fogging the glass.
He clutched my shoulders, blunt nails biting into my skin as I bottomed out with a deep, guttural groan.
“Fuck,” he whimpered, voice tight and shivery. “Maxim, you’re so deep…”
I kissed him, swallowing his cries as I gave him a second to adjust. He felt too good. Too perfect. It took everything in me not to lose control right then and there.
I pulled back slow, almost all the way, then thrust back in deep, so deep he shuddered.
The small, wrecked sound that tore from his throat lit me up from the inside.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I murmured against his lips, thrusting again, deeper this time. Slow but unrelenting. “You can’t deny this always feels good between us.”
A shaky, broken sound slipped from his mouth. He parted his lips, eyes fluttering like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to fight it or fall deeper. “How can I give this up?” he whispered hoarsely, voice frayed and raw. “Feels too fucking good.”
That was all I needed to hear.
Hearing him admit that—admit he still wanted this, still wanted me even in the middle of all this mess—poured gasoline on everything I felt.
I clung to it like a lifeline, like his body was the onlyargument I could win right now. Everything rode on this. On every thrust. On every kiss.
It wasn’t just sex anymore. It felt like a test. Like my whole goddamn life was hinging on how good I could make him feel. Like this was my only shot to make him stay.
So I fucked him like I was trying to earn him. Like every stroke was a desperate bid not to lose him. Like I could rewrite every wrong with the way I moved inside him.
“You fit me so well.” I dragged my lips over the flushed skin of his neck. “Look at you. Absolutely beautiful.”
Wren whimpered, arching into me like my praise was oxygen, like he needed it to breathe. He dug his fingers into my back, clinging tighter with every word.
“You always are,” I kept going, breath hot and fast against his ear. “Even when you’re mad. Even when you hate me. You still open up for me like this. So fucking good for me. You’re too good for me.”
Like I was nearing the end of quarterly job performance review, I fucked him deep and steady, grinding against him each time our bodies met until he trembled, melted, came undone. Every thrust worked him up and down my length, his body syncing with mine, needy and restless and completely surrendered.
“Oh god,” Wren moaned, his back sliding up and down the wall.
“That’s it, solnyshko. Make space for me inside your beautiful body. Just like that. My good boy.”
He made a wrecked, helpless sound, burying his face in my shoulder. His whole body shook.
“You feel what you do to me?” I slowed down and drove my cock even deeper inside him. “I can’t think straight when I’m inside you. Can’t fucking breathe without you. You’re my entire world, Wren.”
Wren grabbed the sides of my face and threaded hisfingers through my hair as if he were trying to anchor himself. I kissed him again, hard and deep to match the rhythm of our bodies violently crashing together.
