“Feeling possessive? There’s only one person I want to put a baby inside and she’s right here.” He runs his hand down my neck, over my collarbones and tweaks my nipples, pulling them up towards the ceiling and forcing me to arch my back to relieve the tension.
He brings his hand between my legs and starts to stroke my clit. He circles it gently, then dips his finger inside me, spreading my juices until I’m a sopping mess begging for his cock.
Sometimes, when I’m restrained like this, it aches so much that I can’t get completion until he wants me to have it.
“Please, Viktor,” I cry out as he continues toying with me.
“Please what? Use your words.”
“Please fuck me until I’m full of your cum.”
“And what’s that called?” He arches an eyebrow as he slides his finger inside me. I lift my hips in vain.
“Breed me. Please.” My breath hitches as he removes his hand.
Now he leans over me, propping himself up on his corded forearms and rubbing his cock against my slit.
“Mmm. Since you asked so politely.”
He plunges into me at the exact second that he cuts off my airflow and my body goes rigid with pleasure.
Fuck yes.
Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes I whimper and he asks roughly in my ear, “But, you love it like this, don’t you?” I nod furiously in agreement.
No matter how overwhelming it is to take Viktor’s cock inside me, again and again, I don’t want him to stop.
I love the look of untethered pride on his face at the end, when he unties me, and he inspects how messy he’s made me. Sometimes he plugs his cum inside me. Other times he just leaves his cock inside me while I fall asleep, waking me up when he’s hard again.
I don’t let myself hope that he’ll actually get me pregnant. But I do imagine him as a father, a toddler on his shoulders, how it would bring out that infectious smile more often. How maybe it would prove to him that he’s not the monster he thinks he is.
CHAPTER 31
VIKTOR
HALF OF THE Bratva’s men will support us. It’s progress, but it could be better. Discontent with Semyon has been growing, especially among those who want to live their lives without the constant unrest that is this war with the Irish.
At the moment, the Bratva is being attacked on all sides… All because of Semyon’s dangerous game with Lisette as the prize.
With all that shit hitting the fan and, as much as I loathe it, my status as the son of the former Pakhan, we should have more support.
I run my tongue over my teeth. What’s holding people back is my reputation. I’m not known as a peacemaker, quite the opposite. That’s a problem. Semyon’s volatile, but people view me in the same way.
We’ll need more support to pull this coup off safely. Otherwise, we’re going to create a bloodbath that destroys the organization.
One more week of this public opinion campaign and I can storm the city and take control.
The sound comes to me from a distance. Even on this snowy night, with the echoes muffled, it’s recognizable as a gunshot.
Markov appears at my side, confirming what I already know.
We’re being attacked.
“Who is it?“ I growl.
“The Pakhan.”
Markov looks anguished. I know he’s on my side, but I can see the way it tears him in two to divide his loyalty. The Bratva is his home and his family. “Half of the men are on his side, half of them are on yours. There are no guarantees. And we hear the Irish are on the way. Once they arrive, Viktor, we’re outnumbered.”