Page 134 of Bratva's Intern

Oh fuck, the tears came again. I reached up to touch his cheek, desperately wanting to believe him, to trust him, even though I still felt he wasn’t being completely honest with me. But the important part—the part about how he truly felt about me—was enough to make me let it go.

For now.

Because Maxim loving me was more than I’d ever hoped for.

“Are you saying you love me too?”

He brought my hand to his lips and kissed the palm. “I’m saying you’re the only thing I don’t know how to survive without. I could lose everything else and rebuild it from ash. But you? There’s no blueprint for what comes after you.”

I stared at him, heart pounding, throat raw from crying.

You’re the only thing I don’t know how to survive without.

Something cracked open inside me. The weight in my chest shifted, still heavy, still hurting, but it wasn’t hollow anymore.

It was full of him.

“Do you mean it?” I whispered.

He leaned into my space, hand wrapped around mine, thumb stroking softly along the inside of my wrist.

“Yes, I no longer know how to survive without you,” he murmured, voice so low it vibrated down my spine. “And I don’t want to learn how.”

That was it.

The last bit of resistance in me shattered.

I surged forward, pulled his head down, and kissed him hard, messy, desperate, my lips still wet with tears. He caught me instantly, one hand at the back of my head, the other sliding down my back like he couldn’t get enough of me, couldn’t wait another second.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, mouth hot and commanding, tongue sweeping in to claim. He tasted like whiskey and heartache and something that had always belonged to me.

He broke the kiss, only to press his forehead to mine, breathing rough, pupils blown wide. “We should go home.”

“Or”—I walked over to his desk and pushed a stack of papers to the side, clearing enough space to hop on—“we can make up by playing out one of your fantasies. That’s why I’d stayed back anyway.”

“It was?”

I nodded, patting the desk invitingly. “I believe you wanted to bend me over your desk.”

Maxim’s eyes darkened as he slowly moved closer. I reached for his tie and used it to reel him in closer until his lips were back on mine.

“Wren—”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry I hurt you, but I had to lie to protect you.”

Before I could respond, he drove his tongue into my mouth. His kiss became rougher, deeper, possessive as he loosened my tie, then unbuttoned my shirt. I was too impatient to unknot his tie. I wasn’t the expert he was with ties, so I ignored his completely and tugged his shirt out of his pants. Too eager to unbutton it, I shoved my hands inside, moaning at his hardness under my fingertips.

His abs were smooth and hard, and I traced the lines with my fingers, my entire body responding with a primal need for this man I’d been on the verge of hating moments ago.

He ran his hand through my hair and pulled my head back with a force that brought a gasp to my lips. Then he devoured my mouth again. I arched my back, pressing myself deeper into his touch. His other hand made quick work of the remaining buttons of my shirt, ripping it apart. His mouth left mine to trail kisses along my neck, and I tilted my head back, offering him better access.

“Maxim, please.”

“Call me Mr. Morozov.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Yes, sir—Mr. Morozov.”

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