Page 13 of Bribed & Bred By the BRATVA
“We’ll do this again in the night,” I murmur into her hair. “And tomorrow. And the day after. Until every part of you knows you’re mine.”
Her hum is soft, sated.
Outside, the pool glitters under the stars. Inside, my wife sleeps in my arms, my seed warm inside her, my name etched on her dreams.
Isabella
I wake up in his arms.
For a moment, I don’t remember where I am. The sheets are cool against my skin, the air faintly scented with what we did throughout the night. His chest is solid at my back, his arm heavy over my waist, his hand splayed low on my stomach like it belongs there.
And then the memory crashes over me.
His mouth on mine. His body inside me. His voice in my ear, rough and certain:You’re mine.
Heat floods my cheeks. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could slip back into sleep, into a world where none of this is real. But my body betrays me. Sore between my thighs, full with the weight of him still lingering. My skin remembers everything, even the parts I want to deny.
I shift carefully, trying to slide out from under his arm. He doesn’t let me. His grip tightens, pulling me back until I’m pressed firmly against him again. His breath stirs my hair.
“Where are you going?” His voice is low, thick with sleep.
“I—I wasn’t—” My throat closes around the lie.
“You stay,” he murmurs. “Always.”
I swallow hard, heart pounding. He says it so simply, as if it’s already written into the fabric of the world.
I lie still, staring at the window. Morning light spills across the pool outside, glittering against the glass. My body aches in ways I’ve never known. Some part of me wants to push him away, to claw back the pieces of myself I gave him last night.
But another part of me, dark and dangerous, doesn’t want to move at all.
Eventually, he rises. He leaves the bed with a presence that fills the room even in silence. I pull the sheets tighter around me, watching him move around the room naked. Every part of him revealing something new. The scars and tattoos, the way his muscles bulk under his skin. The size of him. He doesn’t rush to get dressed. Every movement is deliberate, controlled, as if he knows I’m watching and wants me to see.
“You’ll see your brother again today,” he says as he buttons his shirt. “The doctors are optimistic he will be home soon.”
Relief stabs through me so sharp it hurts. Mateo. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I said yes. That’s why we had more sex last night than I ever thought normal.
But when Aleksei turns, his eyes linger on me, and I know the truth is more complicated.
Breakfast is already waiting in the kitchen; fruit, bread, coffee rich enough to make my head spin. I eat quickly, almost hungrily, and try not to think about how easily my body accepts this new routine. He watches without comment, except for the faintest curve of his mouth when I reach for more.
After, the car takes us back to the hospital.
Mateo looks better. Color has returned to his cheeks; his breathing comes easier. He smiles when I walk in, a real smile again, not the brittle one he used to wear for my sake.
“Izzy,” he says, squeezing my hand. “I feel amazing.”
Tears sting my eyes. I brush his hair back from his forehead, trying to smile through the lump in my throat. “Of course you do. You’re in the best hands now.”
His gaze flicks past me, to where Aleksei stands in the corner. Silent. Watching.
“Are you going to introduce us?” Mateo asks.
My stomach knots. I glance back. Aleksei meets my eyes, unreadable. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just waits.
“This is Aleksei,” I manage, voice thin. “He helped us.”
Mateo nods slowly, accepting it. He drifts back toward sleep, the monitors steady. I kiss his forehead, whispering promises I pray I can keep.
