Page 115 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

“No, I’m reading between the lines.”

Arya’s eyes go wide as she stares at the door Lauren and Lukas just walked through. I can tell she doesn’t want to voice her thoughts, but she does anyway. “What if Lauren is secretly working with Ilyasov?”

I snort. “What makes you think that?”

“Nothing specific,” she says. “But it’s happened before. It could happen again.”

I grab Arya’s shoulders and turn her towards me, pulling her close. “Lukas is safe.”

She takes a deep breath, shuddering on the exhale. “I don’t know…”

“You brought Lauren into this situation by luck and random chance,” I remind her. “You asked her for help and he helped. I invited her here and she came. Lauren hasn’t tried to force herself into our lives or push us or anything. If she was working for Ilyasov, she’d be either the luckiest spy on the planet or the worst one.”

She sighs bitterly. “I know you’re right. I know it. But still, I can’t help worrying.”

I wrap an arm around her back and kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry you have to worry. But Lauren helped us bring Lukas back. She is the reason we found him. She’s on our side.”

Finally, Arya nods. We walk hand-in-hand down the hallway towards our room.

I close the door. Arya slips out of her heels.

“Next move is up to you,” I say.

She makes a big show of thinking about it. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she says, “Oh, I dunno.Whatever.”

I laugh, but all it takes is the tiniest cock of her hips for that laugh to deepen into a feral growl.

I slide the lock on the door into place and cross the room to where she’s standing in front of the closet. I press her shoulders back against the wall, my hands wrapped around her trim waist, and kiss her.

Arya wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me lazily, her soft lips driving me mad. Her tongue slides against my lower lip and then dips into my mouth.

I drag my hands down her waist and over the swell of her hips. Then lower.

She put on a dress for the occasion. A long, flowing floral dress with high slits up the sides. I slip my hand between one of the slits and push the material back, bringing my hand to the warmth between her thighs.

Arya gasps against my mouth, and I love the taste of punch on her tongue. The vanilla sweetness of frosting on her lips.

The material of her panties is thin and I can already feel that it’s damp when I curl my finger up her center. Arya shivers, so I do it again. And again.

“Touch me,” she begs.

Happy to oblige, I shove the material aside and touch her with nothing between us.

Arya tips her head back against the wall and opens her thighs a little wider, giving me better access. I press kisses to the pulse in her neck and the silky skin beneath her earlobe. I lick a line across her collarbone and lavish her skin in kisses while my fingers explore her folds.

When my fingertip brushes over her clit, she gasps and grabs my wrist, holding me there.More, her body says without saying a word.

I give it to her.

I want to give Arya everything she wants. Everything she needs.

If she needs a distraction, I’m happy to let my body be that for her. Nothing brings me more joy than to wipe her mind of worries and fill it with dirty thoughts of the two of us.

I want to give her even more, more than she knows to ask for.

She still has my hand in a vice grip, but I pull my hand free, lift up the skirt of her dress, and drop to my knees.

I kiss my way up her thighs, noticing the way they tremble and we’ve only just begun.

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