Page 62 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
She wouldn’t find any. Not even one. Because I was as sincere as I could be, honest and genuine.
In the compound, the vehicle had barely come to a complete halt when she stepped outside, then reached back to take my hand. No words. No glance. Just a simple tug that said,follow me. And I did. I followed her.
Through the front door of the building, past the guards who bowed their heads slightly, and into the quiet warmth of the foyer. She didn’t slow. She went up the steps, led me through the exquisite hallway, and didn’t stop until we were in our bedroom.
Ester let go of my hand and shut the door behind us. Before my mind could register what was actually happening, she reached out and threw her arms around my neck, her lips locking with mine.
The kiss was soft, almost hesitant at first, like she wasn’t sure how I was going to react to it. I didn’t stop her, just let her do her thing. My hands hovered for a moment before they found her waist, and I pulled her close. Gently, like I didn’t want to spook her.
Ester withdrew, breaking the kiss, her eyes dark, wide, and unreadable as she looked up at me. Her chest rose and fell, with something resembling desire dancing in her gaze.
And then, prompted by passion and lust, our lips collided again; this time, it was different.
Deeper. More fervent. Messy enough to leave us both gasping for breath. Heads tilted sideways, tongues invaded our mouths, charged with weeks of pent-up tension. My hand slid into her hair, cradling the back of her head as my lips devoured hers again and again.
She broke the kiss again, fingers clutching at my shirt, fisting the fabric as if she needed it to stay upright. “I love you, too, Yulian.”
My lips curved into a self-satisfied grin, knowing that the feeling was mutual and that we were on the same page at last.
She beamed at me and then moved to reclaim my lips. Our kiss deepened, the heat building as I pulled closer, reveling in the sound of her soft purrs. This passion coursing through our blood was threatening to consume us both, and I could feel myself losing control.
I fondled her swollen breasts, deliciously pinching her peaks while my hand slid down her belly. She flinched, a quiet wince escaping her lips like I’d pressed a little too hard against her stomach.
Alarmed, I pulled away, eyes roaming her body to confirm that she wasn’t in pain of any sort. Breathless, our chests heaved subtly, my head resting against hers, my arms around her waist. Protective and possessive.
I brushed my thumb over her cheek, her skin smooth beneath mine.
“I want you so badly,” she whispered, her voice trembling in ecstasy. “But we can’t do this now.”
I raised her chin and held her gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I understand.”
She closed her eyes, a sigh of relief leaving her mouth as I planted a soft, reverent kiss on her forehead.
I held her close, her head resting on my chest, listening to the sound of my beating heart. We remained like that, quiet in each other’s arms.
No rush.
No fire.
Just the two of us, basking in the passion we shared.
Chapter 25 – Ester
“Hmm.” I stroked my chin, my eyes fixed on the sealed box sitting in the middle of the nursery.
The damn thing was covered in vague diagrams and overconfident slogans that promisedeasy assembly in less than thirty minutes.
Lies!
“I swear, it looked smaller online,” I mumbled, eyeing the box like it had offended me personally.
Yulian stood across from me, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a faint scowl on his face, box cutter in hand. He glared at the instructions with furrowing brows like they’d insulted his intelligence.
“Think you can handle that?” I asked, lowering myself carefully onto a nearby sofa, one hand on my arching lower back, the other cradling the underside of my belly.
Yulian squatted beside the box. “I’ve put together weapons-grade surveillance drones, dismantled and assembled guns in a matter of seconds,” he bragged, slicing the tape. “How hard can a wooden baby cage be?”
“You primitive being,” I teased, adjusting the pillow behind me. “It’s called a crib. Not a cage.”
