Page 59 of Bound By the Bratva

His mouth moves against mine with a hunger that borders on violence, and I meet it with equal ferocity. My hands tangle in his hair while his work at the fabric of my nightgown, tearing through silk and lace with the same ruthless efficiency he probably used to tear through the men who took our son.

My body arches against him, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against mine. Rolan's hands know me better than my own, caressing and exploring as if he's been waiting for this moment just as long as I have. His fingers find the lace of my underwear and he makes short work of that too, tearing it away like it's nothing more than tissue paper. The harshness of his actions only fans the flames of my desire, the knowledge that I'm the only one who can bring this feral side out in him.

He growls low in his throat as he finally frees me from the last barrier between us, his hot breath bathing my exposedskin. "You're mine, Anya," he grunts out between kisses. "You've always been mine." His words are both a statement and a warning.

As Rolan's hands explore every inch of my body, I can no longer deny the depth of my feelings or the fire that rages between us. "Rolan," I gasp, arching my back to meet his touch. The intensity in his eyes sets my soul on fire, a blaze that threatens to consume me whole.

He kisses a fiery trail down my neck, burning my flesh with his desire. His lips find my breast, and he takes my nipple between his teeth, teasing it with just the right amount of pressure. "Mine," he growls again, like a feral beast staking his claim.

Rolan lifts his head, his chest heaving with ragged breaths that fill the room. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, are now on fire with desire for me and only me. In this moment, I know he means every word. I am his, and he is mine.

"Prove it," I dare him, my voice a breathless whisper. I need him to say the words, to know that this is real and not just a product of our grief and desperation. His grey eyes burn into mine, the flames in their depths reflecting the inferno that rages within me.

Rolan's answer is in the way he lifts me up and carries me to his bed, as if I weigh no more than a feather. He lays me down gently on the rumpled sheets, his hands trembling as he discards his own clothes. He's as affected by this as I am, and that knowledge sends a thrill of anticipation through me. This isn't just about sex for him, either. This is about claiming what's his, and I've never wanted anything more.

His body covers mine, his weight pressing me into the mattress in a delicious way that I've only ever dreamed of. His lips find mine again, and our tongues dance together in a heated tango that matches the rhythm of our pounding hearts.His hands roam my body, reacquainting themselves with every curve and imperfection as if he's been lost at sea and I'm the beacon guiding him home.

He kisses a trail down my jawline, his five o'clock shadow scratching my sensitive skin in a way that heightens my senses even more. Rolan's hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh as he pushes me against the headboard and dives between my thighs.

The first touch of his stubble on my inner thigh makes me jolt, but it’s quickly erased by the sensation of his sucking and licking at my core. Rolan's tongue flicks against my clit, sending white-hot bolts of pleasure coursing through my veins. I grip the sheets, nails digging into the expensive bedding as he teases me with his tongue and lips. He knows exactly how to make me writhe and moan, exactly how to bring me to the brink of ecstasy before pulling back, denying me the release I so desperately crave.

"Rolan!" I gasp, arching my hips toward him, begging for more. His only response is a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against my sensitive folds and making shockwaves buzz through every muscle. He drags his fingers down my slickness, teasing me mercilessly before sliding two inside me, curling them inward as if he's searching for something specific.

"There," I whimper, arching into his touch. “Yes… like that,” I plead, spreading myself wider for his assault.

Rolan growls in approval, his tempo increasing as he hits that spot again and again. I'm on the edge of climax, my toes curling into the sheets as my orgasm builds inside me like a storm ready to break. "That's it, Anya," he grunts, his breath hot against my ear. "Let go for me."

His command is all I need, and my climax overtakes me like a tidal wave, crashing over me in waves of ecstasy that leave me trembling and gasping for air. Rolan doesn't stop there,however. He continues to pleasure me, determined to wring every last drop of satisfaction from my spent body. A second orgasm pushes through the first, intensifying every sensation until I’m convulsing and twitching.

Finally, when I'm nothing but a quivering mass of boneless limbs, he pulls away and looks at me with a smirk. "That," he says between labored breaths, “is just the start.”

I gasp for air, my entire body still humming with the aftershocks of my powerful orgasms. Rolan's smirk only serves to fan the flames of my desire even more. "Well, prove it, then," I challenge him, a newfound confidence swelling in my chest as I smirk at him.

He smiles, a wolfish grin that makes me shiver with anticipation and a healthy dose of apprehension.

Rolan positions himself at my entrance, his hard cock throbbing against my slick folds. "You sure you can handle more, Anya?" he asks, his voice low and gravelly. I nod, unable to form words as he slowly pushes inside me, filling me completely. His every thrust is deliberate and controlled, his eyes locked on mine as if he's memorizing every single twitch and moan that escapes my lips.

Rolan's hips move in a slow, sensual rhythm that threatens to drive me insane. His eyes never leave mine, as if he's trying to imprint this moment on both of our memories. Heat pools between my thighs as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent and demanding. Each time he bottoms out within me, a white-hot flash of pleasure pulses through my body, starting in my core and radiating outward.

His name is a keening cry on my lips as he angles his hips, hitting that sweet spot within me that sends me spiraling even further into the abyss of pleasure. His breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts becoming erratic as he nears his peak. "Anya," he grunts, his voice hoarse with desire.

Rolan's steely grip on my hips tightens, and I can feel the tension coiling in his muscles as he nears his climax. "Come with me," he growls, his eyes boring into mine with a searing intensity. That single command is all I need, and my orgasm crashes over me again, my inner walls contracting around him as wave after wave of pleasure washes over me. Rolan groans my name as he follows me over the edge, his release hot and pulsing deep inside me.

Afterward, we stay pressed together in the aftermath of shared need and mutual claiming. His forehead rests against mine while we both try to remember how to breathe normally, and I can taste the salt of tears I didn't realize I was crying.

"You're not going anywhere," he tells me quietly, his voice rough with emotion he rarely lets show. "Not you, not Nikolai. You're mine now—both of you."

I should argue and remind him that I'm not some possession to be claimed and kept. I should tell him that love isn't about ownership or control or the ability to destroy anyone who threatens what you consider yours.

But I don't argue this time. Because somewhere between watching him carry our son home covered in the blood of our enemies and feeling him move inside me like he was staking a claim on my soul, I realized something that terrifies and thrills me in equal measure.

"I don't want to go," I whisper against his lips. "I love you, Rolan. I think I've loved you since that first weekend six years ago, and I've been running from it ever since."

His hands tighten on my waist, and for a moment he looks almost vulnerable in the dim light filtering through his bedroom windows.

"Then don't run anymore," he says simply.

And for the first time since I agreed to his original deal, I don't want to.

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