Page 32 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

“Good girl.”

He thrusts deep, filling me completely, and I cry out at the sudden fullness. I can feel myself stretching around him, my body opening to take everything he’s giving.

“You’re so tight,” he says against my throat. “So wet for me. I love the pretty sounds you make, little bird.”

His words send a jolt of heat straight to my core. I shouldn’t like this, but I do. I want him to talk to me, to tell me everything he’s thinking.

“Roman!”

“I thought about you in my bed. Thought about spreading your legs and tasting you.” His thumb finds my clit and circles it with just enough pressure to make me crazy. “Thought about making you scream my name so loud the whole city knows who you belong to.”

“I don’t belong to you.”

“You do belong to me.” He thrusts hard, punctuating each word. “Not Anton. Say it.”

“I belong to you.” The words leave my lips before I can stop them, an admission I can’t take back.

He rewards me with a twist of his hips that sends me closer to the edge. My thighs are shaking now.

“I’m going to make you come,” he says. “When you do, I want you to say my name. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He picks up the pace, driving into me with a rhythm that steals my breath. “Come for me, Vera. Come on my cock.”

The orgasm crashes through me like a wave. I clench around him and scream his name just like he demanded. The pleasure is so intense I see stars, my whole body shaking with the force of it.

He doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, drawing out my pleasure until I’m whimpering and oversensitive.

He follows me over the edge a moment later, his hips stuttering as he finds his own release. His forehead drops to my shoulder and he lets out a breathless, self-satisfied huff.

We stay like that for a long moment, both of us trying to catch our breath. Then he pulls back and looks at me.

His eyes are soft in a way I’ve never seen before. His hand comes up to cup my cheek.

“I’ll get us water.”

I nod, not trusting my voice.

He helps me stand, steadying me when my legs threaten to give out. Then he takes my hand and leads me to the bed.

“Stay here,” he instructs. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

He adjusts himself back into his pants, and vanishes before I can argue.

10

ROMAN

Iwake to the sound of Vera’s breathing, slow and even against my chest. Her hair is spread across the pillow. One of her hands rests on my stomach, her fingers curled loosely against my skin.

I lie there and watch her sleep.

After a few minutes, my throat starts to itch. The penthouse air is dry, and I’ve already finished the water I grabbed earlier. I carefully slide out from under Vera’s arm and pull on a pair of sweatpants.

She murmurs something in her sleep but doesn’t wake.

I pad barefoot down the hallway toward the kitchen. The penthouse is dark and quiet, the city lights casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. I’m reaching for a glass in the cabinet when a voice speaks from the doorway.