Page 37 of Bratva Daddies for the Single Mom

I used her hips for leverage and lifted her off my cock, forcing her to release then take me wholly with each thrust.

We came together, my jaw tensing as words built in the back of my mind. Words I’d never said to any woman and hesitated to utter in a moment of passion. I finished with one last thrust and motioned Ilya and Fyodor over. “Your turn.”

Annie turned limp in my arms. “I’ve never been so satisfied in my whole life. And you’re telling me it’s not over?”

“Not by a long shot.” Ilya climbed onto the bed and turned her to face him. “We’re going to please you until you forget your own fucking name.”

Fyodor agreed with a savage smile. I relinquished Annie to Ilya’s arms and moved to the head of the bed, content to watch my brothers-in-arms fuck Annie until we all fell asleep in a mess of arms and legs with Annie using my chest as a pillow and Ilya’s arm as a blanket.

“Where am I?” Annie’s panicked voice snapped me awake in an instant.

I bolted upright and swung an arm out to embrace her. “You’re with us. It’s okay.”

Sleep-swollen eyes locked onto my face. She gulped a breath and rolled to the side of the bed, crossing over Ilya’s legs and swooping up her clothes before I gathered my wits enough to follow. “I can’t be here.”

What was that supposed to mean?

Clothes on, she combed her fingers through her tangled hair. “I didn’t mean to stay all night. I have to go home. Now.”

I could argue, or I could agree to her demands. Logic told me the latter option yielded better results. “I’ll take you.”

She stilled, her fingers deep in the long tresses she’d pulled over her shoulder. “Really? I mean, thank you.” A slight smile appeared, and it was enough to ease the tightness bunching in my chest.

I smacked the back of my hand across Ilya’s leg. “Ilya, you and Fyodor head to the office. Get started without me.” My clothes lay in a heap in one of the chairs. I stood and stretched, enjoying the pop and pull of muscles I’d exerted last night.

Ilya groaned and raised his head. One eye cracked open, and he made a slow sweep of the room. “Where are you going?”

“I’m taking Annie home.” I used my foot to nudge his ass, pushing him into Fyodor, who grumbled and smacked at Ilya with a loose backhand.

Ilya caught Fyodor’s wrist and threw his arm back across his chest. “Get up. We have work.”

Fyodor sat straight up, his tousled hair smushed against his head on one side and sticking up on the other. “I’m up. Let’s go, Ilya. No time to waste.”

Annie chuckled at the sight of them, passing me on her way to the door. “I really have to go.”

“Shoes.” I pointed at her bare feet and toed on my loafers.

“I’d rather go barefoot. I’m too tired to even think about walking in those heels.” She stooped to grab the heels and dangled them in front of her face by the straps. “Let’s go.” Without missing a step, she hurried from the room, down the stairs, and out the door.

I tagged along, curious to see what she’d do once she reached the steps.

A pause, a head tilt, and she glanced at me over her shoulder. “Which car?”

“The black Mercedes.” I led the way to the vehicle and opened the door for her. A sense of urgency seemed to drive her, every passing second causing her face to change. By the time I stopped the car at the apartment complex, her foot bounced on the floorboards and she held her hands knotted together over her stomach.

“I’ll walk you.”

“No. That’s not necessary.” She jumped out and hurried away, heels in her hand and her bare feet slapping the asphalt.

I ground my teeth and followed, catching up when she crossed over the threshold and approached her door.

She twisted the knob, seemingly unaware that I stood behind her.

“Mama.” Matching voices belted out when the door opened, and two small figures launched at Annie, arms wrapping around her waist and green eyes peering up at her. “You didn’t come home. We were worried.”

My heart stopped. Pain and fear ran rampant as the girls grabbed Annie’s hands and jumped up and down. My foot caught on a loose curl in the carpet, making a harsh scraping sound.

Annie spun toward me, pushing the girls behind her. Trying to block my view? Trying to protect them from me? “Viktor.” The panicked way she whispered my name and nudged the girls back inside the apartment screamed louder than if she’d pulled a gun and pointed it at me.

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