Page 105 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

Dima presses a finger to my lips. “Later. Not now. I just want to be with you and not think about all of that shit for a second.”

When I sigh and stay quiet, he nods, satisfied. Then he pads over to Lukas’s crib. It amazes me how quiet he can move for such a massive human being.

“He looks like you when he sleeps,” he whispers.

“Do I also have dried milk on my chin?”

Dima laughs. “It depends what your bedtime snack is.”

“Again with the innuendo. You have the most one-track mind known to mankind.”

He laughs quietly—then, quick as a flash, he whips me around so my back is pressed against his front. With one huge, strong hand, he palms my throat and forces my head back so he can claim me with an aggressive kiss.

Nothing has the ability to wipe my mind clear like the press of Dima’s lips to mine.

The noise of my thoughts is still there, but I can’t hear it. Can’t care about it. For a little while, everything goes quiet and I feel perfectly at peace.

We waltz forward like that, back into the adjoining bedroom. He’s pawing at my clothes. Everywhere his touch goes ends up burning like fire.

“I’m so fucking hungry for you,” he growls into my open mouth.

“You’ve had your fair share,” I retort with a grin.

He smirks. “It’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

Grabbing my hand, he pirouettes me again like a dancer. Then he shoves me backwards. The bed hits me in the back of the knees and I collapse on it with a surprised, “Oof!”

Before I can even process what’s happening, he’s on me. He pulls aside my pajama shorts and licks me up and down.

I gasp and then bite my knuckle to stifle it. “Dima, if you get me worked up and then abandon me again like you did on the plane, we’re going to have a serious problem.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I’d ever do,” he murmurs. His voice is muffled between my legs as he laps me up.

“It—oh, fucking God—it absolutely does. You did. I’m still mad about it.”

“How can you be mad at me when I can do something like this?” Just then, he adds his fingers to the mix. I can barely tell what’s happening down there anymore.

All I know is that one second, I’m capable of functional speech and rational thought—and the next second, all those abilities are gone. I’m a humming blur of a crackling orgasm.

“That’s what I thought,krasavitsa,” he murmurs. His lips brush against mine as he sucks my clit in and releases it with a soft pop, over and over again.

I come hard once barely a minute after he starts and then a second time right on the heels of it.

Then, to my massive disappointment, he pulls away and stands up. His short beard glistens with my juices. I’m one thousand percent sure it’s the sexiest sight that has ever existed.

“Come with me for a second,” he rumbles.

“Uh, I just came twice, actually. So—”

He shakes his head. “I mean it. I want to show you something.”

I feign frustration, but hold out my hand for him to take. He pulls me off the bed and I smooth my shorts back into place. My face is burning hot. I can still feel my slickness between my thighs and the throbbing need to be filled.

But it’ll have to wait, apparently. Mr. Mystery himself has something else cooked up.

I’m wary. Last time he did this, I ended up locked in a storeroom while he went on a suicide mission.

I also don’t want to leave Lukas unattended for long. That Mama Bear anxiety hasn’t left me since he came home. Maybe it never will.

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