Page 72 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

“I understand. But you did show up, and I’m here.” I sighed. I was tired of the past following us like an annoying hangover. It needed to go, and we had to focus on starting together as…whatever we were—two odd humans madly in love with each other.Sheneeded to go.

“Let her go, Miron.”

Miron scoffed, folding his arms as he leaned against the table. “You never cease to amaze me, Hazel. After everything, you’re just…letting her go?”

I looked down, fingers tracing the edge of my long sleeve. “She was a woman in love, Miron. And in one cruel moment, she lost everything.” I remembered the pain of Nathan’s betrayal. “That doesn’t make what she did right, but I know how that pain can drive you to do the unthinkable. She wasn’t evil or insane. Just blinded by love.”

Miron let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. “You really can reason your way through anything, can’t you? Okay, I’ll let her go, but I’m not doing that without making her have a taste of the chaos she created by herself. Damir, we’re canceling all our deals with Ivanova. The plan is to drain them until they have nothing left. Luxury was a drug to Alina, and now I’m going to take it all away. Before now, I told thePakhanI would work harder to restore any loss my decision would cost.”

Damir rose to his feet, tossing the rubber ball on the table, before marching toward the door. “Got it.” Then his eyes flicked to mine with a glimmer of something similar to amusement. “Anything else, Hazel? Would you like me to take her to the hospital too?”

I laughed, and Miron snatched the rubber ball from his table, aiming it at Damir’s head. Luckily, the guy was fast enough to duck before he got hit.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

The door clicked shut behind Damir, leaving us alone. Finally.

Miron winced, moved away from the desk, and pulled me to one of the corner sofas. I helped him settle on it, and he dragged me down with him.

“Miron, the doctor recommended plenty of rest. You should rest,” I whispered, but even as I said it, I was leaning closer, drawn in by his warmth and the way his eyes darkened as they watched me.

“I will,” he murmured, his voice rough. “Just stay with me for a while. I’ll probably sleep soon.”

“Really? With me like this?” I lifted a hand, tracing my fingertips over his cheek, down the strong line of his jaw. He sighed into my touch, his breath warm against my wrist. Slowly, I bent, pressing my lips to the corner of his mouth, tasting salt and something that made my whole body shiver.

He turned his head slightly, meeting me in a kiss that was soft at first, a slow, aching slide of lips. But when he made a low sound, half pain, half pleasure, I pulled back.

“I don’t know why you’re so stubborn. You’re hurt,” I reminded him, pressing my palm flat against his chest as if I could hold him still.

“Correction: I’m recovering.” His lips quirked. “I’m not dead.”

I laughed, but it faded as his hands found my waist. It was warm and urgent. His face found my chest, and he inhaled my scent through my clothes, breathing deeply, with his chest rising and falling.

I wasn’t wearing a bra, so my nipples tightened to hard pebbles, peaking through the flimsy fabric of my dress.

Miron noticed and did what he did best. His large palm covered one breast, and his mouth covered one, sucking on it hungrily through my clothes like a baby needing its mother’s milk.

Feeling lightheaded, I curved my back, driving more of me into his mouth, and I shifted, climbing over him carefully, straddling his hips, mindful of his wounds. His breath caught, and I felt him tense beneath me. His hand lingered on my waist, and his fingers drew circles at the small part of my back.

“Miron, you do insane things to me,” I mumbled, finding the courage to tell him how he made me feel. “I can’t control myself around you. It’s like you make me want to unleash.”

“And I want you to.” He squeezed my breast harder, causing pain and pleasure to shoot through me. “Baby…I want you to make me feel good. I’ve missed you, my dear Hazel.”

His eyes communicated his wants, and I caught onto them, knowing exactly what he needed.

“I know, Miron. I’ll take care of you,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss him again, deeper this time, until I felt him melt into me.

His hands traced slow paths over my body, hesitant, reverent, but I set the pace, moving against him, drawing soft gasps from his lips.

His head fell back against the rim of the sofa, eyes hooded, mouth parted, and the sight of him like this, vulnerable and wanting, made my heart ache.

I nipped on his jaw and met his mouth with mine. I took my time, not fully educated on his aggressive skills. But he held the back of my head with his functioning arm and deepened it, kissing me as if it were a matter of life and death.

He trailed his lips down my neck, breathing something about not wanting to wait. Eagerly, I reached for his pants, and he raised his hips, aiding me as I pulled the fabric down and gripped his cock out of cotton briefs. It sprung out, and my mouth watered.

But before I slid off him to take his length into my mouth, as if sensing my intentions, he planted me firmly on his thighs and bunched up my dress. “Some other time, baby. I want you right now.”

Lifting my hips to position his cock, he saw I wore no panties and squeezed my ass with a delicious groan. “Fuck, yes. You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he mumbled, kissing my lips.

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