Page 124 of Wicked Vows (Suvorov Bratva 2)

When she comes into view, she kisses me gently. My breathing labors while she strokes my chest, tracing each tattoo on my flesh like she knows them all by heart—fuck, she probably does by now.

The bed creaks as she leans back. She strips away her clothes and then turns around, showing me the crown on her shoulder. The rugged ink looks so strange against her soft skin. I sweep my thumb over it.

“I can handle whatever you will tell me,” she whispers. “Do you know why?”

I shake my head.

“Because that’s what this crown symbolizes.”

She turns around, revealing her plump breasts. My mouth waters at the sight of her, but I don’t make a move. I just stare. Respectfully, of course.

“If you don’t want to hear my input about the Bratva, then I won’t offer,” she whispers. She cups my face and drags her thumb over my lips. The effect of her touch is instantaneous—and my cock stiffens in spite of everything. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t listen to you.”

She straddles my lap. My heart beats faster, heat warming every inch of me. The alcohol coursing through my veins makes it difficult to keep up with time, everything moving far too fast for me to process.

But it doesn’t matter.

“After all,” she whispers while stroking my shaft. “We’re a team.”

My lower lip twitches. “Liya…”

I can’t do this right now.But the words never make it to my mouth.

She raises her hips and then sits, engulfing my cock with her sweet pussy. My eyes roll back when she bucks against me.

I try to sit up. I try to speak. I try to grab her thighs and control her pace.

“Don’t talk,” she whispers while bowing over me. “Please don’t, my love.”

Her breasts are plump against my chest, the curve of her body fitting perfectly with mine. She shushes me and then kisses me again, riding so slowly that it makes me ache. I sense her arousal, her throbbing desire. It mirrors mine. I smell her shampoo and conditioner. I feel the warmth of her body against mine.

And I want it all. I want every last bit of her comfort and affection. It’s been driving me crazy to be without her for the last few hours, to handle everything without her by my side.

She’s my wife. She’s mypartner.

And I want her more with each passing her. Ineedher.

But this…This is different. There’s something hungry in her movements. Something much more than a desire to please me.

My consciousness is fading. I cling to the way she feels, but cannot shake the growing unease. I try to nuzzle into her neck, desperate to inhale as much of her as I can while she moans. But each time I get closer, she pushes me back until I’m helplessly watching her use me.

Liya…

I gasp as she quickens her pace. I couldn’t stop her even if I wanted to.

Warmth and wetness engulf me, dragging me toward the point of no return. I want so desperately to hold her, to kiss her, to feel her melt into me.

But instead, she holds me down, her fingernails digging into my wrist and sending tiny pricks of pain flaring through my body to remind me that this isn’t about me.

That I’m just a tool to her.

My final protest dies on my lips as a long, ragged breath rises from my throat.

The alcohol overwhelms me first. Then my own orgasm. But Liya continues riding me mercilessly until my world finally fades into blackness.

Chapter Thirty-One

Liya

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