Page 23 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

“I don’t want to want you,” he choked out. “But I do. And I hate that even more.”

My chest cracked open wide. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I tried. My hand fumbled until I found the small bottle of lube kept on the shelf. When I pressed slick fingers against him, Wren gasped softly, dropping his forehead to my shoulder. “Maxim…”

“Let me make it up to you.” I kissed the curve of his neck. “Let me make you feel good, kroshka.”

His answer came in the form of a broken, shaky kiss, his mouth clinging to mine as he rocked forward, silently begging.

I took my time. I didn’t rush. Not this time .

When he was ready for me and panting, I lifted him in my arms. Wren reached for my cock and guided the swollen head against his slick hole.

The moment I pushed inside, everything else ceased to exist.

Wren let his head drop back with a sharp gasp and tightened his legs around me as I filled him slow and steady, letting him feel every inch. The heat, the stretch, the overwhelming weight of us, of this , wrapped around us like the steam still fogging the glass.

He clutched my shoulders, blunt nails biting into my skin as I bottomed out with a deep, guttural groan.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, voice tight and shivery. “Maxim, you’re so deep…”

I kissed him, swallowing his cries as I gave him a second to adjust. He felt too good. Too perfect. It took everything in me not to lose control right then and there.

I pulled back slow, almost all the way, then thrust back in deep, so deep he shuddered.

The small, wrecked sound that tore from his throat lit me up from the inside.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” I murmured against his lips, thrusting again, deeper this time. Slow but unrelenting. “You can’t deny this always feels good between us.”

A shaky, broken sound slipped from his mouth. He parted his lips, eyes fluttering like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to fight it or fall deeper. “How can I give this up?” he whispered hoarsely, voice frayed and raw. “Feels too fucking good.”

That was all I needed to hear.

Hearing him admit that—admit he still wanted this, still wanted me even in the middle of all this mess—poured gasoline on everything I felt.

I clung to it like a lifeline, like his body was the only argument I could win right now. Everything rode on this. On every thrust. On every kiss.

It wasn’t just sex anymore. It felt like a test. Like my whole goddamn life was hinging on how good I could make him feel. Like this was my only shot to make him stay.

So I fucked him like I was trying to earn him. Like every stroke was a desperate bid not to lose him. Like I could rewrite every wrong with the way I moved inside him.

“You fit me so well.” I dragged my lips over the flushed skin of his neck. “Look at you. Absolutely beautiful.”

Wren whimpered, arching into me like my praise was oxygen, like he needed it to breathe. He dug his fingers into my back, clinging tighter with every word.

“You always are,” I kept going, breath hot and fast against his ear. “Even when you’re mad. Even when you hate me. You still open up for me like this. So fucking good for me. You’re too good for me.”

Like I was nearing the end of quarterly job performance review, I fucked him deep and steady, grinding against him each time our bodies met until he trembled, melted, came undone.

Every thrust worked him up and down my length, his body syncing with mine, needy and restless and completely surrendered.

“Oh god,” Wren moaned, his back sliding up and down the wall.

“That’s it, solnyshko. Make space for me inside your beautiful body. Just like that. My good boy.”

He made a wrecked, helpless sound, burying his face in my shoulder. His whole body shook.

“You feel what you do to me?” I slowed down and drove my cock even deeper inside him. “I can’t think straight when I’m inside you. Can’t fucking breathe without you. You’re my entire world, Wren.”

Wren grabbed the sides of my face and threaded his fingers through my hair as if he were trying to anchor himself. I kissed him again, hard and deep to match the rhythm of our bodies violently crashing together.

“You make me proud,” I said against his lips. “You’re everything I never thought I could have. But you’re mine. Every inch of you is mine, Wren. Your lips I’m kissing—mine. Those beautiful hazel eyes—mine. This tight hole of yours—it’s so fucking mine. You hear me, solnyshko?”

His answer was a desperate gasp and the way he arched, broke, and whispered my name like a prayer. But I needed the words.

“Maxim,” he gasped. “Max, I—fuck, I can’t?—”

“Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll make you come.” I deliberately slowed down my thrusts, which he protested with a whine as he tried to take over and rise and fall on my dick.

“Say it.” I slid out of him slowly, then drove my cock so deep inside him I might as well have been balls deep. “Just say it, and I’ll make you come on my dick. Are you mine, Wren?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Maxim, I’ve always been yours.” His words tore from his lips, filling me with sweet relief.

“Let go,” I groaned, voice thick and wrecked. Pressing him harder against the wall, I angled my hips so every grind hit that sweet, devastating spot inside him. “Come for me. Come all over my cock like the good boy you are. Show me how much you want my cum dripping from that sweet little pussy.”

He cried out as he broke, his entire body seizing tight. His cock throbbed between us, spilling across my stomach as he fell apart in my arms, his voice dissolving into broken, incoherent whimpers.

That did it for me.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and wild and wrecked by my touch, dragged me under.

With a strangled groan, I drove into him harder, chasing the high he’d already fallen into. I kissed him again, messy and breathless, as my release tore free from me.

I spilled deep inside him with a grunt, my hips jerking as waves of heat rolled through me, leaving me raw and empty in the aftermath.

I didn’t pull away. Couldn’t.

I held him there, letting our foreheads press together as our breathing slowly synced, harsh and uneven in the misty shower air.

His eyes fluttered open, glassy and soft now, no hate left. Just sadness and exhaustion.

I pressed a kiss to his lips, gentler this time. Reverent.

“I love you,” I whispered, my voice barely carrying above the hum of the water still beating down on us. “No matter how much you hate me…. No matter what happens after this…. I love you more than my own fucking life. I will always love you.”

For the first time, Wren didn’t say it back.

But he didn’t push me away either.

And for now, in this fragile, fleeting moment, that was enough.

“Wren?”

“Hmm.” He placed his head on my shoulder.

“I’m going to make you something to eat when we’re done. Is that okay?”

Please say yes.

If he didn’t eat willingly, I would have no choice but to force-feed him. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

He nodded, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Smiling, I held him tightly against me.

I’ll make it up to you, Solnyshko, I swear. I’ll make it up to you if it’s the last thing I do.