Page 38 of Marked & Bred By the Bratva
I come with a growl, grinding deep, holding her full hips as I fill her again. And again. Fucking flood her.
We stay like that for a moment, her trembling, me panting against her neck, still buried deep inside her fucking perfect little body.
Then I pull back just enough to see her face. Her lips are swollen, sweat curling her hair, eyes dazed.
I caress her soft belly, then I whisper, “my baby’s in there. I can feel it.”
Ava lets out a shaky laugh. “You’re insane.”
I kiss her temple. “Only for you.”
Twenty Three
Ava
I should’ve known something was up the moment he insisted on dressing me.
Not helping me pick an outfit. No. Lev physically dressed me, like I’m some ragdoll and he’s a mad Russian stylist with control issues. He laid out a black velvet cocktail dress, matching heels, and diamond studs Idefinitelydidn’t own yesterday.
“Lev,” I said, flat on the bed while he adjusted my bra straps, “this feels like mobster Pretty Woman.”
He didn’t smile. Just kissed the inside of my wrist and muttered, “You’ll be the most beautiful woman there.”
So. Normal day.
Now I’m standing at some gala thrown by someone Lev knows. There’s wine. String quartets. People who say things like“notes of oak and currant.”
And then there’s my guy.
All black suit, no tie, first button of his shirt undone. Olive skin and a throat that’s making me squirm. He looks like he’s debating whether to buy the building or burn it down.
Every woman here has looked at him.
Every man has lookedaway.
His hand slides lower down my back, not-so-subtly inching toward my ass.
“You said you wanted to see who I work with.”
“Yeah, not that you could dress me up and finger me while I try to eat shrimp cocktail.”
“You look too good not to touch,” he rumbles in my ear, making me shiver.
I take a shaky sip of my drink. Lev takes my other hand, kissing my fingers. and when he lets go my left hand feels oddly heavy. I glance down…and freeze.
There, sitting obnoxiously on my ring finger, is a diamond the size of Alaska.
“What the…?” My voice jumps. “You put a ring on me while I wasn’t looking?”
He just stares right back at me. Stone-faced.
I’m too stunned to answer. I can feel eyes on us. A woman nearby is clearly trying to eavesdrop.
“Lev,” I whisper, “you can’t just…”
And then, because this night wasn’t deranged enough, he bends down and kisses my bare shoulder, his teeth grazing my skin, his voice a low threat only I can hear: “tonight, I fuck you with my ring on your finger.”
And I laugh. Because what the hell else can I do? I love him. And I’m fucking doomed. Because I want it. All of it. Anything my man would give me. Because I’m his. Always.
