Page 48 of Vendetta Crown

And then it happens.

My orgasm crashes through me in waves, making me cry out his name. My inner walls pulse around his cock, and I can feel him throbbing inside me in response.

"Aurora," he groans, his voice rough with need. "I'm going to?—"

His body tenses beneath me. I keep moving, deliberately clenching around him as he spills inside me. The sensation of his hot cum splashing inside me triggers another wave of pleasure, and I moan as I milk every last drop from him, our bodies locked together in ecstasy.

When the pulsing subsides, I collapse against his chest, my heart hammering wildly. His arms wrap around me, holding me close as we both struggle to catch our breath.

I lift my head just enough to find his lips with mine. We kiss deeply, languidly, like we have all the time in the world.

Like nothing exists beyond this room, beyond us.

Ruslan shifts, gently rolling us until we're lying on our sides. He pulls out of me with a soft moan.

I nestle against his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually slow to a steady rhythm.

"I love you," I whisper again, because now that I've said those words once, I never want to stop saying them.

"I love you too," he replies, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my back.

I feel fulfilled in ways I never thought possible. Not just physically, but emotionally. For so long, I've been running scared, hiding in shadows, trying to be invisible.

But now, I've found something worth fighting for. Someone worth standing in the light for.

We created a new life together.

A new future together.

I place my hand protectively over my belly where our baby grows, and determination hardens inside me like steel.

A monster once took my family from me. That same monster made me believe that love was something that could only hurt me.

But he was wrong.

Because I've found love in spite of that monster. I've found real love against all odds.

And I'm going to fight like hell to save it.

No matter what it takes.

13

RUSLAN

TWO DAYS LATER

A knock pullsme from the reports spread across my desk.

The numbers confirm what I already know: production on my films is back in full swing, which means weapons are flowing into our warehouses right on schedule.

I roll my shoulders, feeling the tug of healing wounds beneath my tailored shirt. "Enter."

Daria slips in, her face carefully arranged in that neutral expression she's perfected over decades of service. "Gregor Belov is here to see you."

My jaw tightens automatically. Unexpected visits mean unexpected demands. And I'm in no mood for either.

"Send him in."

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