Page 57 of The Bratva’s Captive Flame

He adds a third finger, stretching me as he works them faster, his thumb massaging and circling my clit. His mouth moves to my neck, sucking and biting at the skin there while he keeps me pinned and helpless. "You're mine to protect. Mine to fuck. Mine to keep safe no matter what comes." His dirty words send heat rushing through me as his fingers thrust harder, hitting that perfect angle over and over.

"Oh, God," I whimper, rocking and grinding.

My hips buck against his hand, but he holds me steady, controlling every movement, and all I can do is obey him. It's all I want to do. He's all I want.

"Cum for me, Isabela. Cum on my fingers so I can feel how much you need me." He curls them again, pressing deep and rubbing my clit harder until the pleasure builds and crashes over me.

I come hard, my body tightening around his fingers as waves of it roll through me. He keeps thrusting through it, drawing it out while I tremble and moan. His eyes stay locked on mine the whole time, dark with possession as I cling to the feeling of him touching me, his strength holding me in place as the last tremors fade. His fingers stay buried inside me as he watches my face.

He pulls his fingers free and I reach for him immediately, my hands framing his face as he settles between my thighs. His hand works at his belt, then his fly, and he frees himself. When he pushes inside me, we both exhale at the connection, his forehead resting against mine. His eyes stay locked on mine as he begins to thrust slowly.

"You feel perfect around me," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. "I need you like this, Isabela. Just us. Connected."

He kisses me softly, then deeper, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm that builds heat between us. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him closer, my hands sliding over his back to hold him tight. Each thrust feels like he is claiming me while giving himself fully in return.

"My God…" I moan, opening myself wider so he can go deeper, but he shifts our position, rolling us so I'm on top without breaking our connection. I brace my hands on his chest and move my hips, taking him deeper as I set the pace.

Demin grips my waist, guiding me while his eyes never leave my face. "Ride me, Milaya. God, you're so beautiful."

His words carry that possessive tone, but his touch is reverent, his thumbs stroking my skin as if memorizing every inch of me. I move faster, grinding down on him as pleasure coils tighter inside me again. He sits up to meet me, one arm wrapping around my back while his other hand cups the back of my neck. We stay face to face, chests pressed together, sharing breath between kisses.

"I love you," he whispers against my lips. "I chose you tonight because nothing matters without you."

His confession hits me hard, and I kiss him back, pouring everything I feel into it as our bodies continue to move together. The angle and his nearness push me closer to the edge. He thrusts up to meet me, hitting that perfect spot with every motion.

"Come for me again," he growls. "I want to feel you fall apart while I'm inside you."

His hand slips between us to rub my clit again. The combination sends me over. My orgasm crashes through me in powerful waves, starting deep where we're joined and radiating outward. My walls clench around him rhythmically, squeezing tight as pleasure surges through my core, my thighs, and up my spine. I moan his name, my body trembling in his arms as the release holds me in its grip, prolonged as every pulse draws him deeper.

Demin follows moments later, tightening his arms around me as his thrusts become erratic. He buries his face in my neck, groaning my name as he comes. I feel him pulse inside me, filling me with each throb. His orgasm rolls through him in deep, shuddering waves that make his whole body tense and then relax against mine. He holds me close through it, his cock continuing to twitch as he empties himself completely, our bodies locked together in the shared climax.

We stay like that for a long time afterward, still joined, my head resting on his shoulder while his hands stroke up and down my back. He kisses my temple, then my cheek, then my lips, each one tender and full of the words he doesn't say aloud. I kiss him back, threading my fingers through his hair as I hold him just as tightly.

"I want to see my father," I mumble, even as fatigue pulls at my eyes. "I need to know he's safe."

"You need to rest… and tomorrow we will see him, alright?" His hands curl hair behind my ears as I let my eyelids shut. The relaxation of sex is sucking me under, and I know I'll be asleep shortly. But if Demin says Papa is safe, then I will trust him. I've just been through the worst ordeal of my life.

Having patience until morning will be easy.

30

EPILOGUE

DEMIN

Once Isabela's asleep and I'm sure she'll stay that way, I leave Danya sitting with her and head down to the basement to see her father, since it's something I should have done weeks ago. I've put off long enough that any more waiting would only make me a monster.

Octavio looks up from his bench when the door opens, setting down the glass tubing in his hands, and he doesn't bother to stand, only watches me cross the room with that careful, unblinking stare. He's learned not to turn his back on anything and that cooking is his only value in life anymore. I can't believe he's working after everything that happened tonight.

"You're still breathing," he says. "I thought maybe tonight was finally the night that somebody managed to finish you off." I appreciate the humor, scoffing as he offers a wry smile and then nods.

"Someone made the attempt and it didn't take, though it wasn't for any lack of effort on their part," I tell him as I drag the second stool over and lower myself onto it.

He studies me for a long moment, then he asks, "And my daughter? After all of it, is she alright?"

"She's safe and resting upstairs with Danya."

He closes his eyes and hangs his head, sighing. Then he says, "Thank you… for keeping her safe."