Page 27 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

Ilya scrambled from the car, his bulk casting a long shadow to collide with mine and Annie’s. He held the door open, and the interior light illuminated Fyodor’s tense face. The harsh lines smoothed when he saw us. “Annie.” He mouthed her name, the distance between us too great for the single word to reach our ears.

She paused on the approach and held out a hand to Ilya.

He took it and kissed the palm before releasing her and turning to watch my back as I climbed into the limo behind her. Annie sank into the plush seat. Her slight weight barely dented it until I sat beside her, my own body pulling her toward me andsettling her tight against my ribs. Her heart thudded beneath the palm I splayed over her back as I nudged her closer.

Ilya joined us. The door closed and we breathed in the darkness. “Where to?” Ilya took the seat beside Fyodor, diagonal from me and Annie. The wet bar gleamed with rows of scotch and brandy, the crystal glasses turned upside down, waiting for one of us to grab them and pour a drink.

“Home.” I blinked until my night vision returned and checked Annie’s expression for any hint of worry or refusal. At her brief smile, I dipped my head at Fyodor.

My second in command rapped his knuckles on the glass separating us from my driver and the car rolled forward. Annie's hand rested on my thigh. We passed through a series of streetlights, each one offering tiny glimpses of Annie. Her high cheekbones seemed to catch every ray, along with her throat, the delicate curve of her shoulder, and her thigh. Other places remained in shadow. It was those places I sought, the deep hollows and soulful echoes that hid from the light. Annie tucked one leg beneath her, kicking off her fuzzy slipper and nestling in beside me. “What happens now?”

“Right this moment?” I tipped her face up for a kiss. “Foreplay.”

Her lips spread into a smile beneath mine. “How long is the drive?”

“Long enough,” Ilya answered. He scooted to the edge of his seat and then lowered to his knees on the floor. The car hit a bump that tossed him forward, forcing him to catch his weight on the edge of her seat. His fingers dug into the smooth leather.

I watched Annie as she watched Ilya, catching every look, every breath that she freely offered him in her heady desire. I tugged on her leg until I’d eased it out from beneath her and stretched it across my lap. Her bare foot created a contrast of softness against the hard outline of my thigh. I stroked my fingerup the insole, enjoying the way she half laughed, half gasped at the tickling sensation.

“Tickling is not foreplay.” She tried to admonish me, but I sidestepped the words to concentrate on the sudden pounding pulse skipping in her neck.

“No?” I pressed my thumb into her arch and rubbed it, my other hand sliding up over her knee to rest on her thigh. “Then you have not been properly tickled.”

“I’m beginning to think I’ve not done a lot of things properly.” The hand closest to me lifted, and she cupped my cheek. “What can I do to please you?”

Ah. Such a dangerous question from such an inquisitive and naive mind. If she knew the true depths of my depraved mind, she’d fear the answer so much as to never dare ask the question. My desires were darkness personified. I enjoyed our sexual encounters, craved them with every heartbeat. But there was more I would do, things I hoped to introduce tonight as a means to check her comfort level, her trust, of all that we were. “You can let us give you pleasure.” I pulled her other leg into my lap.

Ilya remained by her side. He touched the curve of her waist, just below her navel, then dipped his hand beneath her shirt and raised it to reveal her smooth stomach. He kissed her belly even as I rubbed her feet and squeezed her calf.

“I want to do more.” She ran her fingers through Ilya’s hair. “I love giving you blow jobs while we’re fucking, but is there more I can do?”

She marched right into the most dangerous territory of my mind and offered herself without fear, without thought to what we might ask… whatImight ask.

“You can do anything you wish.” I hedged around the answer.

Her brows drew together in that familiar way I’d come to understand meant she didn’t like my answer. “But what do youlike? I always assumed guys liked blow jobs, but maybe you like something else. I want to know what you enjoy.”

Fyodor made a noise in the back of his throat. “You may regret that inquiry later.”

“Our needs are basic, Annie. But if you wish to explore the more deviant side of polyamorous sex, we will show you a few things.” I shot Fyodor a look that warned him of my intentions.

15

ANNIE

Icouldn’t help myself. Everything I’d told myself throughout the day–how they were dangerous and I needed to stay far away–flitted away when Viktor locked those gorgeous gray eyes on me and asked for one more night. If tonight was the last time I’d get to be with them, I wanted to make it count.

Viktor made it sound ominous when I asked what I could do to please them. A few dozen possibilities ran through my mind, but curiosity overwhelmed the potential fear. They made it easy to be swept up in the passion of the moment. Who wouldn’t fall into lust at the sight of these three gorgeous men, especially when they wanted me and only me?

The car stopped. I sat forward and tried to peer out the windows. Nothing but black in every direction. “Where are we?”

“Home.” Ilya stated it simply, but the way his lips caressed the word made me look harder.

What made a stoic, quiet, but dangerous man like Ilya sound that way? He opened the door and stepped out, holding a hand for me to grasp.

“Welcome home.” Viktor kissed my palm and helped swing my feet to the floor. He replaced my slippers and patted my ass with gentle hands.

Stepping out of the car, I let my gaze roam the broad expanse of white brick that absorbed the moonlight and reflected it back across Ilya’s face. He craned his neck, a smirk tugging one side of his mouth upward. “It is beautiful.” He faced me. “But not as beautiful as you.”

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