Page 65 of Born into Blood

She’s quiet for a second, and I know what’s coming before she’s even worked up the courage to ask it.

“So, what exactly do you do?”

“I help run my family’s Bratva,” I tell her.

“And that entails?” she asks, drawing out the last word in the hopes that I’ll just start filling in information.

I don’t, so she’s just left hanging. When she furrows her brow and tries to give me an irritated look, I smile and give her a wink.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

I give one of her nipples a soft pinch. “Don’t pout, sweet girl, it’s better if you don’t know.”

“I’m not pouting.”

“That would be a lot more convincing if you weren’t pouting while you said it.”

She looks like she wants to be pissed, but she’s also fighting a smile when I give her another wink. In the end, I get a playful eye roll and a muttered, “Whatever, keep your damn secrets.”

When she tries to turn away, I cup her face and pull her closer, kissing her until she’s fisting my hair and wiggling in my lap, no longer remembering why she’s pissed at me.

“I can’t tell you what I do,” I murmur against her lips when she’s breathless, “but I can tell you that I’ll always keep you safe, I’ll kill anyone who ever tries to hurt you, and I will always be faithful to you. That’s what I can tell you, kisa, and that has to be enough.”

“I have just one question, and then I’ll leave it alone.”

Her eyes search mine, begging me for this one thing, and fuck if I can deny her. When I nod, she says, “I don’t know much about mafia things, but I once read an article about a sex trafficking ring and how they’re often run by crime syndicates.”

Before she can even ask, I shake my head. “No, kisa, we’re not involved in that shit. I give you my word on that. My family has never been and will never be involved in trafficking women.”

I feel her body soften at my words, and I hate that she worried for even a second about any of this. Running my hand through her hair, I pull her down against me again and kiss her forehead.

“My Aunt Alina was kidnapped before I was born. My dad and uncles spent two years searching for her. They were finally able to track down the bastards who had taken her. I don’t know much about the Bratva responsible because they’re all very hesitant to talk about it, but I do know they killed every last one of them.”

“Good,” Lara whispers, turning her head so she can kiss my wrist while I stroke her hair. “I’m glad they killed them, and I’m sorry about what happened to your aunt.”

“You’ll get to meet her on Sunday. She’s married to my Uncle Matvey. They have two kids, Yelena and Evgeny. My uncle has scars too, kisa.” I drag my fingers along her arm, relieved when she doesn’t pull it away like she would have just a few short hours ago. “He was in a fire when he was fifteen, and it left him with scars all over his arms and back. They’re covered in tattoos, but you can still see them.”

She brings her hand to mine, interlacing our fingers so we’re tracing her scars together.

“I hadn’t thought of doing that.” The corner of her mouth lifts in a small smile before she lifts her blue eyes to mine. “Then I’d look like you, all tatted up and tough.”

I smile and run my thumb along her cheek. “You will always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me, no matter what, and you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, kisa. You don’t need tattoos to prove that.”

She holds one of her arms up, looking at the lines of silvery scars. “Tattoos might look pretty.”

Her voice is low and hesitant, almost like she’s afraid of my reaction.

“Look at me, Lara.”

I wait until she turns to face me. “If you want tattoos, baby, you can get as many as you want. I think they’d look sexy as hell on you, but if you don’t want them,” I add, giving her a smile, “you’ll still look sexy as hell. Whatever you decide is fine with me. I’ll love your body no matter what.”

“Well, aren’t you agreeable,” she says with a laugh. “I’ll remind you of that when I’m so pregnant I can’t see my feet or when I’m so old that my face is covered in wrinkles.”

“You won’t need to remind me. You will always be stunning to me.” I run my hand over her body, stopping when it’s flush against her stomach. It probably shouldn’t make me as hard as it does to imagine her pregnant, but there’s no denying I’m hard as fucking steel while my fingers brush over her lower stomach, exactly where a small baby bump would first appear.

“Just the thought of you pregnant, kisa, fuck,” I groan, resting my forehead against hers. “You have no idea what it does to me.”

“Why?” she whispers. “Why do you want it so badly?”

---