Page 35 of A Nanny For The Bratva Boss
He looks at me, outrage written all over his face. “I’ve never been more sure of a fucking thing in my life.”
The ceremony is quick. It’s just us and a judge who looks quite concerned about the whole ‘we don’t have a license but somehow strings were pulled in high places’…
“I, Mikhail Maksimov, take you, Maya Ross, to be my wife. To protect, to provide for, to love. For the rest of our lives.”
“I, Maya Ross, take you, Mikhail Maksimov, to be my husband. To stand by and to love for the rest of our lives.”
After declaring us husband and wife, the judge seems to relax a bit. “You may kiss the…”
Mikhail doesn’t wait for him to finish. He pulls me against his broad chest and kisses me hard, deep, possessive. Claiming me in front of the whole world. Well, a judge and his clerk.
When he finally pulls back, I’m dizzy, excited, nervous. Did I just commit to a lifetime with my hot, grumpy Bratva neighbor? Sure did.
“Wife,” he growls against my lips.
“Husband,” I whisper back.
* * *
We don’t make it past the front door of the house. The second we’re inside, he’s on me. Backing me against the wall, his mouth on mine, his hands every fucking where.
“Misha…”
“My wife,” he growls. “Carrying my baby.”
He drops to his knees, pushes up my shirt, and presses his lips to my stomach. In an achingly tender gesture.
“Mine. Both of you.”
I run my fingers through his short hair. “Yes, my love.”
He stands, lifting me to carry me upstairs. There, he gently lays me on the bed, then strips me bare with slow, reverent hands.
Running his callous palms over my stomach, he rasps out, “So fucking beautiful.”
I smile, shaking my head. “I’m not even showing yet.” He gives me one of his death glares, which makes me laugh.
Then he’s on my lips. Kissing me, his hands all over my body. Making my thighs clench.
“Need to be inside you, sweetheart,” he growls against my mouth.
I moan, writhing under him. He strips fast, tugging on his clothes hard enough to rip. Then he’s between my legs, his long, thick, heavy cock sliding through my drenched folds, the head rubbing against my clit. Feeling so good… so damn good… Then my husband slides home in one hard thrust. And we both groan.
“Fuck, wifey. So wet for me,” he grunts, thrusting his hips back and forth in a deliciously wicked swirl.
“Always, husband,” I whimper back.
He keeps giving it to me in long, slow, deep thrusts that have me clawing at his back, my head thrown back, loud cries falling from my lips. His big body surrounding mine, his mouth on my tits, hands squeezing my ass hard, pulling me to meet the slaps of his hips. Fucking perfect. Pleasure ripples through my entire being. From my hard nipples being tortured by Misha’s devilish tongue, to my clit that’s incessantly rubbing against his pubic bone, to my inner walls being assaulted over and over by his incredible length and girth.
“My wife,” he growls with every thrust. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
“Yes, baby,” I gasp. “And you’re all mine, too.”
Then his hand slides between us, finding my clit to rub wonderful circles that have me lifting off the mattress.
“Oh my God, Misha!”
“Come for me, Mrs. Maksimov!” he roars.
