Page 106 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

Later I’ll address the his house comment even though I know it’s been in his family for decades. “What do you need a minute for?”

“To get hard again.” He stands up naked, looking like a god. A hard Russian one. “Come on. I want to fuck you again in my bed next.”

After quickly dressing, we sneak down the hall like teenagers. I was one when I fell for him. Maybe I made him recapture a reckless youth.

With no sign of Violet and exactly twenty minutes until dinner, Kirill strips me of my clothes again, licks me to a fever pitch, slides on a condom, and goes wild on me.

With a powerful thrust, fire heats up in my veins. Pleasure shoots through every inch of me. How can one man make me feel that good?

You might have been a sex kitten.

I think Elodie was right. Meow. No… Roar!

I had to be some kind of vixen in bed in order to satisfy a man this feral. God, it’s embarrassing how I’m loving this. But with his mouth on my breasts and his cock buried deep inside me, I don’t care.

Kirill’s hand moves down my hip, and a finger starts circling my clit. He releases a dangerously sexy groan before I do.

“Sandrine, you feel so fucking good.”

For a second I struggle to remember that’s my name. My pussy throbs, the walls squeezing his rock-hard length.

Shivers race up and down my spine, and I feel him contract. His length is iron strong, pumping me through his climax.

He finishes, sounding even more out of breath than the first time, and rolls onto his back. “I might not survive you this time.”

Back at ya…

When my eyesight returns, I glance around the room I hadn’t been in until now.

“Will I move in here with you?” I clear my throat. “Eventually?”

“I want you to.” He twists to face me and strokes my cheek. “This was my bedroom before I moved out. I don’t want the master bedroom where my father fucked whores. Now that he’s gone, I want to demolish it.”

“What type of marriage are we supposed to have this time?” I close my eyes and love the hard edges of his fingers on my skin. “I’ve figured out how this world works again. Rich powerful men often sleep in separate bedrooms.”

“That’s because they have mistresses,” he says bitterly.

“Oh.”

He leans in and kisses me. “The plan was we’d move in here together. You and me in this room. Violet down the hall. Our sons in the other bedrooms.”

I get chills listening to a future that was so clear to him, and it pains me that it was ripped away. My life was ripped away from me, too. But I didn’t know what I was leaving behind.

Chapter 34

Kirill

Iwake slowly, which is not me. I always wake up abruptly. Violent.

With the pale winter light creeping through the windows signaling that it’s morning, I know I need to get out of this bed. Even if I’m punch drunk from sex.

My brain moves before my eyes open. It’s calculating problems, how to articulate threats, who owes me money, and whose blood I’ll spill that day. The last two, being a paired set.

Years of this life in the Bratva carved that survival instinct into me. Which is why getting rest became a shallow, temporary glitch for years.

But this morning, the warmth in my bed keeps me here. Sandrine is curled against my chest beneath the dark gray sheets. I only ever slept in this room alone. It never felt this warm, never smelled this good. Now I smile, breathing in her scent of lilacs.

After dinner with Violet, baths, and stories last night, I brought Sandrine back here, and we went at it until nearly sunrise. She only left my bed to use the bathroom. When she returned, she scooped up one of my shirts and climbed back in.