Page 13 of BRATVA'S Killer Bride
His mouth finds mine again, and everything inside me comes undone. The kiss isn’t polite or careful. It’s hungry, searching, the kind that makes me forget the blood and betrayal that got us here. His hand slides up the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair as his body presses into me.
The warmth of him seeps into me, steady and consuming. His heartbeat thunders against my chest, and I realize mine has matched its rhythm. The roughness of his stubble grazes my skin when he pulls back just enough to look at me, his breath uneven, his eyes darker than I’ve ever seen them.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmurs, voice low, his forehead resting against mine. “Seeing you standing over his body, covered in blood, strong and certain and ready to kill me, too.”
“What do I do to you, Daniil?” I whisper, breathless. “Tell me.”
His hands find my waist, fingertips brushing the edge of my ribs, a touch so firm I can already feel the bruise blooming. I tilt my face up, closing the space between us, because the ache in my chest isn’t anxiety or confusion anymore, it’s want.
When he kisses me again, it’s slower. Deeper. A surrender disguised as a touch. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, the corner of my mouth, the pulse at my throat. Every placehe touches feels like he’s writing something permanent there, something neither of us can erase.
The world outside ceases to exist. There’s only the low crackle of the fire that’s almost out, the faint scent of pine and rain, and the sound of my own breathing as his lips trail down my neck. He doesn’t rush; he explores, patient, reverent, like he’s learning me by heart.
I press my palms against his shoulders, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath my hands, the restrained strength in him barely held in check. His control should scare me. Instead, it steadies me, because I know it’s not dominance that drives him, it’s devotion.
“You make me feel starved and insatiable, and being with you is the only thing that satisfies the hunger.” He drops to his knees, lifting my sweater and dropping kisses over the bare skin he finds. “Seeing you holding that knife stirred something inside me I thought was dead,” he adds as he unbuttons my jeans and lowers the zip. “Fuck, being with you is the first time I’ve been hard in years.” He slides my jeans down as my hands push through his dark hair. “I want to worship you and ruin you at the same time.” He helps me step out of my jeans and panties. “The look on your face, the challenge in your voice, snapped something inside me, and I had to have you.”
I moan when his tongue comes into contact with me. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says against my wet center. “I love every bit of you. Your body, your mind, your soul.” He pushes his tongue between my folds and my legs shake. “And the way you taste,” he adds, his pupils blown wide as he looks up at me. “I swear to god it’s the only thing that satisfies the hunger.”
He takes my hips in his hands and guides me to the sofa, following on his knees with his mouth on the apex between my thighs. I sit on the edge and he lifts my legs up, resting myheels on the soft cushions as he pushes my knees apart as far as possible.
“Let me look at this perfect cunt,” he says, licking my juices from his lips. He unbuckles his belt and slides his jeans down, his large cock springing from his waistband before settling heavy between his thighs, the head already glistening with pre-cum. Then he leans forward and feasts on me in a blurred frenzy of lips and tongue, his arm jerking as he pumps his shaft with a rigorous pace.
“Fuck, Daniil,” I cry out, pleasure launching me over a precipice I never saw coming. I’m still gasping when he removes his mouth and a warm splattering takes its place as he cums on my spent pussy. His back is arched, his eyes hooded but on me, his groans tearing from his throat in desperate pants.
I watch the thick, viscous, cum hit where his mouth just was, and something primal in me stirs and wakes up. When his cock is spent, I meet his eyes with my own, then lurch forward, pressing him back onto the rug and straddle him.
His half-hard cock slides into me with ease and I ride him hard and fast. I pull off my sweater and he tears off my bra, but nothing slows my pace. He hardens fully, stretching me from the inside, the sensation completely new and driving me feral. I don’t take my eyes off him, the way his gaze is transfixed on my tits as they bounce and sway. The way his jaw is fixed tight, his teeth gritted against the onslaught. The way his muscles are taut beneath his skin and the way his abs tense as he gets closer and closer to coming undone.
My release is harder to find this time, but still as strong. When it tears through me my hips continue to rock, desperate to stretch out the orgasm. His fingers dig into the flesh of my ass, slamming me down onto his cock unmercifully as he follows me over.
I stay on him, trying to slow my breathing to some kind of normal. But I don’t think anything will ever be normal again.
When I finally slip from him and lie beside him on the floor, I feel like every part of me has been laid bare.
Daniil
The weeks pass by in a haze of sex and plans. My need for Sienna doesn’t ever lessen, no matter what we do. Just the sight of her moving around the cabin drives me mad with want.
I check the laptop, a daily habit since we hunkered down after meeting her cousins. So far, there’s been no news. I leave it on the coffee table and go to her, hugging her from behind.
“Anything?” she asks.
“No, but I’m sure it won’t be long.” I turn her to face me and kiss her softly.
“I was thinking,” she says, pulling away and grabbing two mugs of coffee, walking into the living room and placing them on the coffee table either side of my laptop. “Andrey’s money—”
“Your money,” I interject.
“The money,” she says firmly, her eyes locking onto mine with finality as I sit beside her. “I want to donate it or something.”
I think for a moment. “That’s fair,” I say. “Have you thought about where?” I pull up the accounts Roman gave us. There’s a little over ten million dollars in total. A drop in the ocean to what Andrey’s businesses were worth, but also all above board in case there’s ever any questions. There’ll be a life insurance sum to follow, if and when the authorities find his body.
My contact made sure he would wash up in the same place as all his victims washed up.
“Women’s shelters,” Sienna says, breaking my train of thoughts. “Charities for victims and survivors of sexual assault, domestic violence. Maybe even a donation to hospitals that deal with that stuff.”
I lift a hand to her face and smile. “That sounds perfect,” I say.
