Page 21 of Watched and Bred By the Bratva
He kisses me until I’m gasping, until I stop thinking about anything except him filling me, sealing me, making me whole. Then I suck in a shaky breath, and he feels it—feels me signal that I’m ready.
He growls, pulls back just enough, and thrusts inside again.
The sensation detonates through me. No pain. Just impossibly deep pleasure, the heavy slide of him claiming everything inside.
I arch under him, stunned, and whisper brokenly, “I was so afraid…”
“Never again,” he snarls against my mouth, thrusting again and again, finding a brutal rhythm. “Never fear again. Not with me.”
I gasp with each stroke until he suddenly catches my wrist, drags it down between our bodies. He slams into me and forces my trembling fingers to my clit.
“You’ll have to finish it,” he growls, voice raw, wrecked. “I’m too close already. Work yourself, little one. Show me how you come around me.”
I whimper, rubbing frantic circles on myself, the sensation doubly intense with him driving inside so deep I feel him in my ribs.
“Yes,” he gasps, hips pounding, sweat dripping from his temple onto my chest. “Good girl. Perfect girl. My Zara. My sunlight.”
The praise undoes me.
My body tightens, bows, heat sparking everywhere, until the dam breaks. I scream as my orgasm detonates. My walls clench violently around him, pleasure wracking me so hard I almost black out.
He roars, slamming flush, grinding impossibly deep until I swear he’s fused into me. My body milks him, shudder after shudder, as he empties inside with brutal groans, every thrust sealing his come deeper.
When at last he stops, he stays buried, crushing me into the bed as his chest shudders against mine.
His lips find my ear. His voice is gravel, but weighted with something I’ve never heard before—reverence.
“Every fucking drop stays inside you,” he mutters, holding me down when I instinctively try to shift. “You’ll keep me, Zoya.You’ll take everything I give you. I’ll put my child in you, and I’ll never let you go.”
Tears prick my eyes. Not from pain, but from the terrifying, beautiful certainty in his tone.
He tips my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes as he kisses me slow this time. Bruising turned tender.
“You’re mine now. Do you understand? There’s no undoing this.”
I nod against his mouth, dazed, half-crying and half-smiling. Because deep down, I already know—
I never wanted to undo it anyway.
Zara
We don’t move at first.
He’s still inside me. Heavy and immovable. His weight pressing me deep into the mattress. His chest is damp against mine. Our breaths are ragged, syncing slowly. My whole body feels wrung out, trembling, full—not just from him, but from something greater. From the sense that something inside me has finally bloomed after years of lying dormant.
I had been so afraid.
Afraid of pain. Afraid I was broken. Afraid I’d never feel what other women spoke of in hushed voices.
And now—this.
Every nerve hums. Every muscle aches sweetly. And I feel… alive.
Nikolai shifts just enough to kiss me. A slow, searing kiss. Not greed this time. Not hunger. A vow. He lingers there, lips soft at the corners, his large hand cradling the side of my face as if I’m made of bone china he’s finally allowed himself to touch.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. His breath is rough velvet. “You’re mine now,” he whispers, reverent. “No undoing it. No going back.”
I can’t speak, so I just nod, dazed.
