Page 94 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

And she needs it, too.

The way she’s moaning and writhing around before me is proof enough of that.

As my tongue delves even deeper inside her, she groans loudly. Her fingers curl into my hair. She pulls hard, but it doesn’t change my rhythm.

She asked for a punishment. I intend to deliver.

The more she struggles, the more I make her wait. I reach up and grab one of her juicy breasts. I play with her hard nipple as I swirl my tongue over her clit in ruthless circles.

“Mmm…” she whimpers. “Aleks… Aleks… I can’t…”

She’s laid wide open, completely at my mercy. A light lick and she trembles. A good suck and she’s moaning.

And when I go beyond that, she explodes. Her hips grind hard into my face, but I keep her trapped on the counter as her sweetness erupts on my tongue.

“Oh God,” she whimpers. “Fuck… Aleks!”

I bear down until the orgasm has had its way with her. She goes limp, but we aren't done. I get back up to my feet and position my cock at her entrance.

Then I drive myself home.

“Fuck,” Olivia moans low. Sweat is starting to bead along her body like jewels.

I plan on licking her dry afterwards. But first things first. I pull all the way out and thrust into her again.

Her hands curl on my shoulders as her moans work up to a scream. Her legs tremble from the fresh orgasm already growing.

“That’s right,kiska,” I growl. “I want to hear you come for me.”

Watching her like this is a miracle. A metamorphosis. Like I’m releasing the shy little girl from her shell and letting the brave woman take hold.

When her eyes open again, they lock on mine. Unable to rein myself in anymore, I start fucking her furiously, wresting another greedy orgasm from her.

She cries out, lost in the music of her body. I watch her face twist with pleasure. She writhes like a woman possessed, trying to expel her demons.

And in that moment, I know she’s mine.

There’s no denying it anymore. She can try if she has the courage. Her siblings can, too.

But I’ll break down their arguments just like I’m breaking hers right now.

Olivia Lawrence—no, Olivia Makarova… is mine.

23

OLIVIA

“You look like you’re headed to face the firing squad,” I remark.

Jennifer hasn’t made eye contact with me even once since we got in the backseat together. The presence of the armed driver and bodyguard up front doesn’t exactly ease the mood, either.

Of course, that’s just this car. There are two more trailing us.

Overkill if you ask me, but it’s the only way Aleks would agree to let me meet Rob today.

“It kinda feels that way,” Jennifer mutters. “Don’t judge me.”

I suppress a smile. Aside from looking terrified, she looks good. She usually does, but she’s dialed it up a notch today. She has on dark jeans underneath a white wraparound silk blouse that shows just enough cleavage to be seductive without being too obvious.

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