Page 57 of Scarred Bratva King

His growl is answer enough. His hands move to grab my ass, squeezing as I ride him harder. “You’re fucking perfect.”

His hands move to my clit, his fingers circling with just the right pressure. I moan, my body tightening as the pleasure builds.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Come for me.”

I can’t hold back any longer. My body shudders as I climax, my hips grinding against his as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

When I finally collapse against his chest, his hands are still on me, holding me close.

“My turn,” he says, flipping me onto my back. His hands grip my wrists, pinning them above my head.

His lips find mine in a bruising kiss, and then his mouth moves lower, nipping and sucking at my skin. When he reaches my breasts, his tongue swirls around my nipple, and I arch into his touch.

“Maxim,” I moan, my hands twisting in the sheets. “Please.”

He smirks, his eyes dark with lust. “Please what? Use your words.”

“I need you inside me,” I gasp, my body trembling with need. “Now.”

He obliges, thrusting into me with a force that knocks the breath from my lungs. His pace is relentless, his hands gripping my hips as he fucks me hard and deep. “You’re mine,” he growls, his voice rough with need. “Say it.”

“Yours,” I moan, my nails digging into his back. “Always yours.”

His thrusts grow faster, and I know he’s close. “Veronica,” he growls, his voice tight with restraint.

I reach up, grabbing his hair and pulling his face to mine. “Come in me,” I whisper, my lips brushing his.

With a grunt, he does, plunging deeper with a hard thrust as he spurts inside me.

When he finally stops moving he collapses beside me, pulling me close. “You’re incredible,” he murmurs. “So fucking perfect.”

Yeah, I think. But how long will you think that?

27

MAXIM

Numbers. Assets. Deals. All in my father’s handwriting. The empire distilled into neat columns of ink and paper on the desk in front of me. By this time tomorrow, it will all be mine.

And yet, staring at the mountain of wealth awaiting me, I feel nothing. Because she’ll be leaving. The signal replicator has arrived. I can go ahead and make my plans whenever I want.

I told her until Marco was dead, she still needs my protection. Is it wrong I want to hold off killing him just so I can spend a little longer with her?

I can’t bear the thought of saying goodbye. My obsession has only grown deeper since we met. Every day the thought of being without her stabs at me like a blade to the heart.

I lean back in my chair, the leather creaking under me, and rub my jaw. The inheritance should feel like victory, but all I can think about is her. Veronica.

The way she laughs, the way her nose crinkles when she’s trying to hold in a sarcastic comment. The way her presence makes me want a family for the first time in my life.

I run a hand through my hair, forcing my mind back to the documents. The Bratva is a beast that requires constant feeding.

The enemies are waiting, circling like vultures. Lombardi is the biggest but there are always others. There’s no room in this world for distractions—no room for her.

I need to get on with work. Once Marco is gone, I’ll tie up this arrangement, give her what I promised, and send her on her way. I’ll need to give the business my attention, there won’t be room for me to focus on anything else.

The thought twists something sharp in my chest, but I ignore it. I’ve trained myself to ignore pain, both physical and emotional.

Love is a distraction. It blinds you, weakens you. I’ve seen what happens to men who let it in. My father’s grief after my sister’s death nearly tore this family apart. He recovered, but the empire barely survived the blow.

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