Page 29 of Hunted By the Masked BRATVA
"Konstantin." She tugs me closer. "We're alive. We're safe. We destroyed the man who took everything from me. And I want to celebrate that with you."
How can I say no to that?
I stand, pulling her with me, and lead her to the bedroom. It's sparse, functional, but the bed is large and the sheets are clean.
Good enough.
I turn to her, taking my time undressing her. Each button, each zipper, revealing more of her slowly. Savoring every inch of skin, every curve, every mark that makes her who she is.
The scar over her heart, courtesy of Troskoy's bullet. I trace it with my fingertips, then my lips.
"Beautiful," I murmur against her skin.
"It's a scar."
"It's proof you survived." I kiss it again. "Proof you're stronger than anything they tried to do to you."
She shudders beneath my touch.
I take my time with her, worshiping every inch. This isn't the desperate heat of our first night, when we were both running from something. This is different. Slower. More intense.
This is making love to the woman I'd burn the world for.
I lower Emilia onto the bed, her body yielding beneath mine as I follow her down, our skin brushing in ways that send sparks through every nerve. She's naked now, all soft curves and fierce strength, her eyes locked on mine with a heat that matches the fire building inside me. I kiss her slowly, deeply, tasting the salt of her skin and the sweetness of her lips. My hands roam over her hips, her waist, pulling her closer until there's no space left between us.
Her fingers trace my tattoos, my scare, urging me on. I oblige, trailing my mouth down her neck, careful over the bruises but hungry for the rest of her. She arches into me, a soft gasp escaping as I reach her breasts, my tongue circling one nipple before I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder, feeling her body respond with a tremble that vibrates through us both.
Her hands find my belt, fumbling with the buckle in her eagerness, and I help her, shedding my clothes until I'm as bare as she is, my cock hard and leaking precum on her thigh. She wraps her fingers around me, stroking with a rhythm that makes my breath hitch. Her touch firm and knowing, like she's claiming me just as much as I'm claiming her.
I groan against her skin, shifting to settle between her legs, the heat of her core pressing against me, wet and inviting. I slide a hand down, fingers parting her folds to find her clit, circling it slowly, watching her face as pleasure flushes her cheeks and parts her lips in a silent moan.
She's so responsive, clenching around nothing yet, and I can't wait any longer. I guide myself to her entrance, pushing in inchby inch, savoring the tight warmth that envelops me, her inner walls gripping me like she never wants to let go.
We move together, slow at first, building a rhythm that's all about connection, every thrust deep and deliberate, hitting that spot inside her that makes her cry out my name. She meets every movement, her hips rising to match mine, nails raking down my back in a way that sends pleasure-pain racing through me.
I pick up the pace, driven by the way she tightens around me. Her moans grow louder, more urgent, until she's trembling on the edge. My hand slips between us again, thumb pressing against her clit, rubbing in firm circles that push her over, her body convulsing around mine as she comes, waves of pleasure ripping through her. It takes every ounce of my control not to follow her over.
“Roll over for me Emilia,” I ask. “Let me get deeper.”
I pull out of her, missing the grip her pussy had on me and she rolls over beneath me, lying flat on her stomach.
I slide in again, groaning with the restraint or the pleasure, I’m not sure. She leans up on her elbows, her back arching and I kiss and suckle her neck as I begin to slowly thrust into her again.
With every withdrawal of my cock, her pussy holds on tighter. I clench my teeth, but my body takes over, gaining momentum and driving me to the edge. She moans as I nip at her shoulder, and my balls tighten and electricity shoots up my spine. I blow my load into her in jagged, stuttering thrusts, filling her until my cum leaks out between us.
We lie there afterward, tangled and breathless, her head on my chest as my fingers trace lazy patterns on her back. This isn't just sex; it's us, raw and real, a promise that whatever comes next, we'll face it side by side. She's my everything now, and I'd burn it all again just to keep her here, safe in my arms.
"What happens now?" she asks quietly.
"Now we wait." I press a kiss to her forehead. "I'll reach out to Leonid tomorrow. Feel out where he stands. If he's willing to let us walk, we negotiate terms. If not..."
"We run."
"We run." I tighten my arms around her. "But either way, we do it together."
She's quiet for a moment. Then: "I never thought I'd have this."
"Have what?"
