Page 17 of Bred By the Masked BRATVA
I want her belly full of my child. I want her seated at my table, her mask gone, her name whispered from my mouth at night. I want her pen turned to my story, her ambition weaponized for my empire. She’ll stop writing about us and start writing for us. My Bratva queen, bound by blood, bound by ink, bound by the child I’ll put in her.
I stroke her throat, gentle now, claiming and soothing all at once. “Tomorrow night, when the masks fall, you’ll be on my arm. They’ll see who I chose. And when they see you, they’ll understand. You’re the future of this family. You’re my future.”
She shudders beneath me. Not with fear. With want.
Her body is still quivering, skin flushed, breath catching every time I shift against her. But I’m not done. Not even nearly.
One claiming will never be enough. Not for me. Not for her.
I press my palm over her stomach, slow, possessive, like I can already feel the life I’ll put there. “Empty now,” I murmur, my voice rough with satisfaction. “But not for long.”
Her eyes widen, mask slipping further, and she shakes her head. Her mouth opens to argue, but her body betrays her. Her hips tilt, a subtle roll against me. Hungry already.
I grin. Smug. Certain. “You want me again.”
“I—” Her voice fractures, raw from moaning.
I don’t let her finish. My mouth crashes over hers, swallowing the denial before it can form. My hands pin her wrists aboveher head again, locking her beneath me where she belongs. She writhes, to feel more. To give in without saying it.
My cock, still hard, drags against her slick entrance, the heat of her making me groan low in my chest. I push back inside, slow enough to make her gasp, deep enough to remind her there’s no part of her I don’t own now.
“Mine,” I growl into her throat as I start to move. Harder this time. Deeper. I want her sore tomorrow, marked from the inside out. “Every breath. Every thought. Every child you’ll ever carry. All of it is mine.”
Her nails scrape my back, her head tipping back as a broken sound escapes her lips.
Good girl.She feels it too.
I drag her leg higher over my hip, angling deeper, grinding into her until her eyes flutter shut and her mouth falls open in a helpless moan. “You hear me, little dove?” I rasp against her ear. “This is your future. My ring on your finger. My seed in your womb. My name on your lips every night until you forget who you were before me.”
She shudders, a tremor that runs all the way through her, and I know I’ve struck deep. Not just in her body, but in her mind. She wants to argue, to fight, but the way her body arches tells me the truth.
“You’ll give me heirs,” I snarl, pounding harder, the bed groaning beneath us. “Sons who carry my name. Daughters who look like you. And every time I fill you, I’ll remind you, you chose this. You chose me.”
Her answer is a breathy sob, half-want, half-denial, her legs clamping around me as if she can’t let me go. Her mask slips again, this time revealing more of her flushed face, but shedoesn’t rip it off. Not yet. She’s still hiding behind the lace, but her body is wide open, betraying her in every thrust.
I slam into her, relentless now, chasing that moment when she breaks again, when she gives me everything. My hand slides between us, finding her clit, rubbing in brutal circles to match my thrusts.
“Come for me,” I order, voice dark and hungry. “Give it to me. Give me your body, your future, your everything.”
Her cry rips through the air, sharp and raw, her whole body seizing as pleasure tears her apart again. Her nails bite into my skin, her legs lock around me, and the sound of her surrender nearly undoes me.
I thrust deeper, harder, until I can’t hold back anymore, until I spill inside her again, grinding down to keep every drop inside.
“Fuck,” I snarl against her neck, biting down hard enough to bruise. “Take it. Take all of me. Every time I fuck you, you’ll remember that you’re not leaving. You’re mine. Forever.”
I collapse over her, still buried deep, still holding her pinned beneath me. My breath is ragged, my body burning, but my mind is sharper than ever.
Because I know now, with absolute certainty.
She’s not just part of my world.
Sheismy world.
Natasha
I should feel destroyed.
Pinned beneath him, full of him, marked in ways I swore I’d never allow… this should feel like the end of everything I came here for. My career. My independence. My principles.
