Page 109 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

We lay in silence for a while, Dima stroking my back while I regulate my breathing to the rise and fall of his chest. Eventually, once I think he’s dozing, I peel myself away and go clean up in the bathroom.

When I come back in the room, his eyes are open.

“Did I wake you?” I ask.

He shakes his head, looking slightly offended. “You think I’m spent after one round?”

“I am,” I admit, rubbing at my eyes. I peek through the curtain over the window. “It’s almost dawn.”

“Come to bed,” he says, beckoning me with his silky voice and a curl of his finger.

I reach down to grab the sweatshirt he lent me before, but before I can, Dima grabs my arm and pulls me into bed. His hand skims across my hips beneath the blankets and curls around my breast. His thumb brushes over my nipple, which is pebbling more every second.

“I’ll leave you alone—for now,” he whispers, as he flicks my nipple back and forth gently. “You can go to sleep.”

I play at closing my eyes, but when Dima dips his head beneath the blankets and sucks my breast into his mouth, I give in to the heat building low in my belly. I pull him up to me and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

The foreplay this time is short because neither of us need it. I feel him, hard and needy, pushing at my opening. I’m dripping in anticipation.

This time, I open the condom and slide it down his length. “Fuck, you’re something else,” he growls fiercely.

When I reach his base, he grabs my wrists and pins them above my head, while, in the same instant, he thrusts into me.

I cry out, still shocked at the way he fills me.

He holds both of my arms with one hand and uses the other to draw devastating circles over my center, filling me with an aching kind of need that only he can fill.

When I come, my body goes tight like a bowstring and then limp. I sag into the mattress, dissolving into a puddle of warmth.

Dima kisses my lips, my cheek, my forehead, and then rolls me over onto my belly. For a second, he slides himself against my ass. He grabs my cheeks and pinches them together around his length, groaning as he saws against me.

Then he lifts my hips and presses inside of me.

I feel like I should be spent, but the embers burning in my belly catch aflame as soon as he’s inside of me again. It’s like a trick birthday candle. No matter how many times you blow it out, it lights back up.

Now, though, Dima isn’t gentle.

I’ve had my release.

This is for him.

Our bodies crash together, the noise echoing around the room. I press my hips back so I can open up for him, give him as much of myself as possible.

He knots his hand in the back of my hair and jerks me towards him. I gasp and arch my spine as he presses his lips to my ear.

“Forget his fucking name,” he orders.

He thrusts hard. I have to stifle a scream.

“Forget his fucking face.”

Another thrust. Another scream.

“Forget everything that’s happened since the moment I walked into that clinic.”

Thrust. Thrust. Thrust.I can’t hold it back anymore—I’m crying out every time his hips slam into mine.

“You’re mine, Arya, do you understand that? You belong to me. You’re my fuckingkrasavitsa.Now be a good girl and come for me.”

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