Page 12 of A Baby for the BRATVA Boss
Then he said it would be safe now.
Every part of me want to test his restraint because this thing inside me wants him to be lying.
I lean against the wall and close my eyes, trying to breathe through it. But all I can see is the way his pupils expanded when he looked at me, the way his breath hitched when his fingers brushed my throat. The way he brought himself pleasure right outside my room.
I shouldn’t have watched him. God, I shouldn’t have. But I did. And now I can’t unsee what I saw. The power, the hunger, the way my name sounded like prayer in his mouth.
The air hums against my skin. I can’t sit still any longer. The house feels like it’s vibrating around me, the walls pulsing with the same maddening rhythm in my veins.
I move toward the door before I’ve even decided to. My fingertips graze the handle. It’s cool, smooth, real. The only thing that feels solid right now.
My breath catches. My legs are trembling. I should walk away. I should crawl back into bed and wait for morning.
Instead, I slide the key in and turn it.
The faint click sounds louder than thunder.
For a moment, I just stand there, listening. Nothing. The house is quiet. But the quiet feels like it’s holding its breath.
I open the door.
The corridor stretches ahead of me, dimly lit, golden pools of light spilling over the floorboards. His door is at the end, open.
My pulse roars in my ears again,swoosh, swoosh, swoosh, like a warning and a dare all at once.
I step from the silence of the carpet onto the floorboards on the landing. My breaths come short and fast, my heartbeat dictating my movements.
Light spills from his room, but it’s quiet in there. Suddenly I wonder what I’ll find. A madman? A monster? A demon?
I lick my lips, my mouth unexpectedly dry. Then I’m at his door.
He is sitting in a chair in the opposite corner, his sweater removed, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and the sleeves rolled up. He is holding a glass of something dark, letting it hang there suspended between the floor and his fingertips.
“Sophia,” he says, voice drenched with a darkness I’m desperate to know. His eyes are so black they don’t look human. “If you step into this room, I will breed you until it takes. Tread wisely.”
The swooshing in my ears threatens to suffocate me as it fills my throat and floods my body.
I know I should say something, but I can’t make the words. I swallow, lick my lips again.
Then I step inside.
Yury
My cock didn’t soften after I spent myself against her bedroom door. I feel like I’ve been nursing this hard on since the moment I first saw her yesterday. It’s enough to drive any man insane.
When she appears at my room, her hair is tangled from restless hands. Her cheeks are flushed, lips parted, pupils wide and dark. The faint scar above her mouth catches the light like a secret only I know.
She looks ruined by her own wanting. Beautiful because of it.
I stand. Slowly.
Her pulse is dancing in her neck. It’s wild and unsteady, matching mine. She’s shaking. Whether from fear or need, I don’t know.
When I reach her, I stop, give her one last chance to leave. One heartbeat. Two.
She doesn’t.
“Sophia,” I say, low and even, though my voice feels foreign in my throat.
