Page 1 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER ONE

MAXIM

T he skyline outside my office windows glinted silver blue in the afternoon sun, casting sharp-edged shadows that danced across the piles of paperwork strewn upon my desk. Too beautiful a day to be cooped up in my office. Something I wouldn’t have paid attention to before.

Until Wren.

“Sam, we’ve had this conversation already.” I pinched the bridge of my nose while I paced the width of the floor. “The hold on the Portside project is artificial. I know it. You know it. And I’m not paying a consulting fee to grease hands that were already shaking mine a week ago.”

Sam’s sigh crackled through the speaker. “Maxim, I’m trying to help you here. These zoning delays, they’re coming from somewhere above. Someone’s pushing harder than expected.”

“Then push back harder,” I said, voice flat. “Or get out of the way and let someone else do it. ”

“You’re talking about a logistics hub that spans three waterfront blocks. If this doesn’t clear soon, your investors are going to start asking questions.”

“My investors already have answers. They know I don’t lose. Do you?”

A beat of silence.

I knew Sam. Knew his rhythm. He’d always been useful, clever, even. But lately, his hesitation had started to itch. A man who waited to see how the wind shifted wasn’t a man I wanted at my back.

“I’ll lean on the council again,” he muttered. “But I can’t promise they’ll move without a little incentive.”

“Then incentivize them.”

A soft knock sounded at the door.

I turned, and every bit of tension coiling in my shoulders melted.

Wren slipped inside, cheeks flushed, a cup of coffee balanced effortlessly in his hand. He didn’t interrupt. Just padded across the office floor like he belonged here and placed the mug carefully on the corner of my desk.

He met my eyes briefly. Smiled.

I barely resisted the urge to smile back.

Each time I thought about how close I’d come to losing him last week after the incident , my heart clenched. Because he was a better man, he’d forgiven me. Way easier than I’d expected. Would he be as understanding if—when—he found out how much I was keeping from him?

My relationship with Archie remained strained because he thought I coddled Wren too much.

That if Wren couldn’t handle me being the Bratva Pakhan, he shouldn’t be with me.

But I couldn’t let him go. Not now. Not ever.

He was sweet and thoughtful and everything that was good in my extremely dark world.

I’d watched more TV over the past couple of weeks than I’d had in years. All because of him, something so ordinary became the highlight of my day. When we were at my place, we curled up on the couch while the outside world plotted how to destroy the empire I’d built.

“No, Sam,” I said smoothly into the phone, walking back to my desk and easing into the chair.

I placed my hand on Wren’s waist and squeezed him there.

Big mistake. Now I wanted my hands all over him.

“I don’t want excuses. I want a revised permit timeline by Friday.

And if the Department of Urban Development still needs clarification, they can get it from my attorney. ”

Wren leaned into me and pressed a kiss to my cheek, then turned away.

I caught his wrist.

Sam kept talking, but the words didn’t register the second I had Wren where I wanted him: his wrist warm in my hand, his eyes curious.

I tugged him down onto my lap.

He settled easily, nestling into the curve of my body, and for a moment, I let myself breathe. He grounded me. Made tough situations seem trivial, even without a solution.

Sam’s voice pulled me back. “…and I assume you’re still planning the ground-breaking announcement in Q3?”

“Of course,” I said smoothly, voice steady, even as Wren tilted his head and kissed the side of my neck. My cock stirred uncomfortably, boring through my trousers, wanting to find Wren’s tight hole. “Unless you plan to give me a reason to delay it.”

Wren laughed quietly under his breath, mischief in his eyes as he ground his ass deliberately over my cock, then rose to his feet.

I pointed to my lap, where the front of my pants tented over my dick.

He shook his head. “I have to actually work to earn the obscene amount of money my boss insists on paying me,” he whispered.

I’ll pay you more if you suck my cock, I mouthed.

He gave me a mock gasp. “What kind of hussy do you take me for?” But he bit his bottom lip.

I reached for my belt. If he wanted an incentive, I could give it to him. I spoke into the phone like nothing was happening. “Yes, and tell Whitmore he’s not getting an extension. We agreed on ninety days. I don’t care how many cranes he’s short. If his crew can’t deliver, I’ll find one that can.”

Wren’s eyes dropped as I unfastened my belt with practiced ease, tugged my zipper down, and freed myself.

I spat on my hand and slicked my palm over the length of my dick, eyes locked on Wren’s. He was watching me, cheeks flushed a deeper red, mouth slightly open. A tilt of his head and his eyes locked onto mine again.

He licked his lips.

I shoved my chair back, and he immediately took up space in front of me, kneeling between my spread thighs.

Fuck.

“Look.” Sam sounded flustered. “I’m not saying we can’t make this work. I’m saying you’re going to need more than pressure and deadlines. You might need a show of goodwill.”

Wren wrapped his mouth around me, hot and wet, and I inhaled sharply through my nose, letting my eyes drift toward the city view.

Control. Always control.

“That’s funny,” I said, voice shaky. “Because I was just thinking of showing someone how good my will can be.”

Sam didn’t laugh. Didn’t get the double meaning.

Wren bobbed his head slowly, curling his fingers around the base of my cock, squeezing my balls as he sucked deeper. I rested my hand on the edge of the desk, fingers twitching, breath barely contained .

Fuck, he’d called my bluff, and now I was sweating.

Wren pulled off my dick, spat on it, and obliterated my control.

“All right, so I’ll?—”

I hung up the phone and left it off the hook, facedown on the desk.

Wren didn’t stop. If anything, he sucked harder, moaning, slurping noises echoing around the office. I clenched my jaw, digging my fingers into the armrests of my chair, knuckles white from the effort to regain control.

It was useless.

Wren took me all the way down to the back of his throat, swallowing around me.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, one hand finding the soft curls of his hair and shoving his head down while I thrust into his wet mouth.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Shit.

Wren’s eyes flew up to my face, and he started to move back, but I held him in place. “Move under the table, solnyshko, but for god’s sake, don’t stop.”

I pushed my chair forward as Wren did what I said, swirling his tongue around the head of my cock, and I nearly lost it.

“Come in.” My voice was tight, and I cleared my throat.

The door creaked open, and Bradley entered, his tablet in hand and a puzzled crease between his brows.

As usual, seeing him made my blood boil.

He had so much potential but chose to betray me.

I couldn’t wait for the right time to end him, but until then I had to tolerate him and act as if I didn’t know all the things he did behind my back.

“Sorry to bother you, Mr. Morozov, but Sam says he got disconnected during your call, and he’s been trying to reach you. Said the line’s not ringing through, and Wren isn’t at his desk.”

Wren squeezed the base of my cock, and it took everything not to look down at him. I tightened my fingers on the edge of the desk as I strove to keep my focus on Bradley rather than my perfect little cocksucking devil’s mouth.

“I’m aware. I’ll return his call once I’m through.”

“Okay, I’ll?—”

A soft slurp had us all freezing. Even Wren stopped moving, his lips halfway down my cock.

Bradley looked about ready to leap out of his skin, his eyes wide as his gaze ticked to the desk, then darted back to my face. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Realization passed through him like a wave.

I should have felt guilty for outing Wren like this, but I felt nothing but satisfaction.

Bradley had low-key flirted with Wren one too many times for my peace of mind.

Sending him out of town on assignment hadn’t cured him of lusting after what was mine either.

If I still didn’t need him within my sights, I would have fired him already.

“Umm, well, then, I’ll let him know.” Bradley turned for the door and closed it behind him with a soft snick.

“Oh my god.” Wren pushed my chair back and stood. “He knows, Max. He totally knows.”

“So what? Come here.”

I reached for his belt buckle, unfastened it, and slipped his pants down below his hips before he could fully blink.

“You still want to after that ?”

“Of course. Nothing could ever make me not want you, least of all someone who keeps flirting with you. If you’d let me, I’d fuck you right on top of his desk in his office until he gets the message loud and clear. I. Don’t. Share.”

I took the lube out of my drawer, pleased when he didn’t protest or try to get away. Just accepted that one way or another he would end up on my dick. I wanted it. And he wanted it.

“Are you saying you own me?” Wren grabbed his shirt and raised it above his ass with one hand, showing off his black lace jockstrap. He slipped a finger between his cheeks, fingering himself.

“Fuck, yeah, I own you.”

He shoved his finger faster into his hole. “Hurry up before someone else knocks.”

I lubed up, placed my hands on his hips, and guided him back to sit on my cock. Wren spread his cheeks and sat down hard, taking me in all at once.

“Fuck!” I clamped my eyes shut as ripples surged through my body. I tightened my grip on his hips, but he kept going, rising and falling in swift movements, his body stretching and adjusting to my fullness.

He arched his back, gripping the armrests for leverage. I punched up, meeting his downward thrusts, and his ass crashed into my pelvis with the rhythmic echo of skin meeting skin.

“Do you like that, Mr. Morozov?”

My hips stuttered at his taunt, and I lowered one hand to firmly stroke his hardened cock.

“That’s all you got?” I teased right back.

He clenched his muscles around my throbbing length, and a shiver ran up my spine. The room was hot and cold at the same time.

“I swore I wasn’t going to do this here with you,” he moaned. “But I can’t stop. I always want you to fuck me.”

Exactly the way I felt. But if I bent him over every time I got hard for him, we would both be slapped with charges for indecent exposure. We’d never get any work done .

“That’s it, Wren. Ride your boss’s dick. Show me how much you love it when I’m in that ass.”

“Oh god. Gonna come.”

“Do it. Come all over my hand.”

“Yes, Mr. Morozov.”

I tightened my hand around his pulsating length, manipulating him with firm strokes.

My other hand was still firm on his hip, guiding him up and down on my cock in a rhythm that had my body on fire.

He went rigid as his orgasm hit, spilling over my hand and onto the desk.

His hole spasmed around me, the fluttering movement building a pressure deep inside me that shattered.

I squeezed Wren to me, thrusting up— once, twice— and coming inside him. My hips fell back, and I sat hard in the chair, Wren’s body slumped against me.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face to his back. I kissed his neck, nipped his skin, and tasted the saltiness of his sweat, the sweetness of him. The postorgasmic haze settled around us, the silence in the office broken only by our ragged breathing.

I hoisted Wren up, disentangling myself from his clenching heat, and set him on his feet.

Together, we readjusted our clothes, not talking but stealing knowing smiles and smirks.

His eyes were soft, crinkling at the corners, as he observed me button up my trousers and wipe the cum off my desk with a tissue from the dispenser.

“You don’t have to look so smug,” he grumbled.

Chuckling, I pulled him back against me. “And why shouldn’t I?”

“People are going to think you’re a horrible boss for using your wealth and powerful influence to get the PA into bed.”

“Is that so?” I kissed his hair. “I thought you said they would think you were a gold digger for sleeping with the boss? ”

He pushed away from me, putting the desk between us while I watched him in amusement. “You’re the one who tempted me.” He smoothed a hand down his thigh, grinning, and placed his hand on my desk, leaning forward. “Want to play with me this weekend?”

“Of course, though we might change things up a bit. Want to go to a hotel?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Actual play. Jess has a coupon for laser tag that’s about to expire. She’s taking Nik and Darius since he’s back. I want you on my team.”

“Laser tag?”

“Yeah. You know, neon lights, fake guns, hiding behind foam barriers like children on a sugar high.”

My first instinct was to say no. Flat-out, immediate, definitive. What kind of man like me played laser tag? A man who was comfortable shooting real guns.

The whole concept was absurd.

But then I looked at him. At how his face lit up with the idea. At the hopeful way he hovered, waiting. And something inside me—something stubborn and entirely soft—caved.

“Sure. Why not?”

He beamed like I’d handed him the stars. Leaned in and kissed me, quick and sweet, tasting of victory.

“You’re the best,” he said. “You gotta get Sergei to come too.”

I groaned. “Wren, I don’t see that happening. Sergei isn’t the kind of guy who has fun.”

“No, no, Sergei has to play.” He was halfway to the door already. “It’ll be you, me, and Sergei against Jess, Nik, and Darius. We’re gonna crush them. It’s gonna be amazing. I can’t wait!”

The door closed behind him, and I groaned, dragging a hand over my face. If he thought I was stoic and brooding, Sergei was in a league of his own. He wouldn’t thaw because of a pretty face with amazing throat game and a sweet ass.

Well, fuck me sideways.

Laser tag.

With Sergei.

What the hell had I just agreed to?