Page 35 of Bratva’s Vow (Bratva’s Undoing #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

WREN

I woke up to heat.

Maxim’s naked body was draped over mine, all hard muscle and restless breathing. At first, I thought he was shifting in his sleep. Until he slid his hand down my thigh and pressed it open at the same time he wedged himself between my legs.

“Maxim…?” I mumbled, blinking in the dark. I couldn’t make out his face, only the shape of him. He felt different. Coiled. Like he was an animal ready to pounce.

In a blur, his mouth found mine, and his hips ground down against me, the press of his cock thick and hot against my belly.

I exhaled, dizzy from how fast he moved and the lingering haze of sleep, but my body still arched toward him instinctively.

His lips were a demanding heat, stoking the embers in the pit of my stomach. The firm, determined pressure of his body was a language I was familiar with, an insistent conversation that had no need for words.

“Maxim, you’re home. Ahh—” I cried when he kissed down to my neck and bit me hard. “What?—”

His mouth cut me off again. A deep, urgent kiss, nothing gentle about it. His teeth caught my bottom lip and held it like a warning while he dug his cock against mine.

I gasped softly against him. “Again? What happened?”

“Shh,” he murmured, voice dark and raw. “I need to fuck. Let off steam. Will you open your legs for me, solnyshko?”

Not fair. He knew I couldn’t resist when he called me that.

I pulled my thighs up to my chest, offering him exactly what he wanted.

There was no teasing, no prep. Not that I needed it after going two rounds already. To my surprise, he was already slick with lube. Had he been watching me sleep while stripping off his clothes and getting lubed up?

The thought had my cock firming. I bit my bottom lip and pushed out around him as he drove inside me in one long, relentless stroke. I cried out, feeling suddenly full.

One didn’t have sex three times in a night without it stinging a little. The stretch was almost too much, a borderline pain that thrummed hotly through my veins. But it was so fucking worth it as each thrust burrowed him deeper, struck a pleasure that overrode any lingering discomfort.

His hands dug into the back of my thighs as he pressed harder, deeper. Like every push into me was driving his demons away.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t praise me like he usually did. Didn’t whisper how good I was or how much he loved me. He held on to the back of my thighs with a brutal grip, tilting me farther into him.

“Fuck!” I cried out, grabbing his arms and holding on as the room filled with the obscene squelching of his cock burrowing inside me over and over. “Oh! Oh! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

He was almost brutal in his rhythm. Each rapid thrust seemed like a battle he was desperate to win. Like my body was a conquest he dared not lose. I felt his tension, the tautness of his sinewy muscles under my fingers.

He eased his pressure on my thighs and rolled us over so we were on our sides, with him behind me. He hooked one arm under my knee and yanked it up high, holding me open as he slid back into me from behind, deeper this time. Angled. Sharp.

My hand flew to the sheet, and I stuffed it into my mouth to muffle my screams.

And yet he said nothing. Not even a grunt. Silence except for the sound of skin on skin, the slap of our bodies meeting, the wet stretch of me wrapped around him. My cries filled the space between us, rising with every thrust until I was sobbing from how good it felt to be handled so roughly.

He brought a hand up to braid around my neck and tightened his fingers just so, a mix of pleasure and danger. A seemingly protective choke that still left room for me to breathe, to moan uncontrollably as he fucked me over and over.

His grip never wavered.

Neither did his rhythm.

I wrapped a hand around my cock, and a scream tore from me, cut short as he tightened his hand around my throat, cutting off my air. I clawed at his wrist, not to stop him, but to feel him, to anchor myself to something as everything else slipped away.

The room tilted. My vision narrowed. Heat exploded behind my eyes, a sharp, bright pressure coiling in my belly.

I hovered on the edge of it, weightless, dizzy, so close.

Caught in that dangerous, euphoric place between panic and pleasure.

With another thrust of his hips, my release tore through me, hot and overwhelming, wracking my body with shudders.

After having him come inside me twice earlier without having an orgasm of my own, I needed that more than I could ever imagine.

Finally, a grunt came from him as he chased his climax.

His hips stuttered, and he was spilling inside me for the third time that night.

He released my throat, let my leg drop, and turned me around gently.

He pressed his lips hard against mine, but I was too spent, too worn out, still too high to do more than give a pathetic moan.

He slipped his hand down to my ass, delving two fingers in, and I hissed a breath. “Sore?”

“Hmm.” I buried my face into his neck, kissing his salty skin. It felt so good to have this with him again. And not just the sex. The intimacy that came from loving each other.

I never want this to change.

He squeezed my ass tight, then went back to fingering me idly, like the movement of his digit brought him comfort.

“Poor kroshka,” he said. “Giving yourself to me three times in a night. You really must stop me sometime. I don’t want to wear you out.”

“I like it.” I pressed a kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“You do?”

“Hmm. You want me all the time. Who wouldn’t be flattered by that?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Well, I am, and that’s all that matters anyway.” A yawn escaped me. His thumb was doing magical things to lull me back to sleep.

“I should let you rest.” He kissed my forehead. “I wish I could tell you I won’t wake you up in the middle of the night again, but I’m on edge tonight.”

“No, don’t stop.” I grabbed his hand when he removed it, pushing it back toward my ass. “Feels good. I feel like your toy.”

He chuckled but returned his fingers to rub gently over my swollen hole.

“Anything else you want from me tonight?” His voice was a low, throaty hum.

“Just promise me you’ll be here when I wake up.”

“Sweet boy, of course I’ll be here. Go to sleep.”

His fingers moved in slow, gentle circles now, slick with his cum, teasing the edge of soreness and pleasure.

I sighed into his skin, my whole body humming with aftershocks.

There was something hypnotic about the way he played with me.

Absentminded, possessive, like I belonged to him even in sleep.

My limbs grew heavy. My breath slowed. I felt myself drifting, weightless again, under the steady rhythm of his fingers.

Why had he come home so horny? Had his business gone well tonight? The thought slipped from me before it could form into words. Sleep pulled me under, and I went willingly, still stretched open around his fingers.

Still his.

Forever his.

Maxim had lied to me. I woke up to nothing.

No heat. No weight. No arms wrapped tight around me like usual.

I blinked blearily at the soft morning light slanting in through the curtains and reached out on instinct, expecting skin and muscle and that ever-present scent of Maxim.

All I found were cold sheets.

I pouted.

Lifting my head, I squinted around the room, then dragged myself to the edge of the bed. Everything ached in the best possible way. My thighs were aching, my hole was sore, even my throat felt slightly raw, and yet, I couldn’t stop the smile tugging at my lips.

We’d made up.

I padded to the bathroom, yawning as I relieved myself and brushed my teeth. The reflection in the mirror looked thoroughly ruined. Eyes puffy with sleep, lips kiss-swollen, neck blooming with dark marks. Mine. His. Ours.

My whole body bore the ache of being well loved last night.

I rinsed, spat, and shuffled out of the en suite, then tugged one of Maxim’s discarded shirts over my head and went to find him.

The scent hit me first. Coffee, butter, something warm and toasty. I followed it down the stairs to the kitchen.

Maxim had his back to me. Shirtless. Hair still damp from a shower. His back and chest were covered in bruises. Fuck. Had I done that last night? My face burned, but a feeling of pride filled my chest, remembering how I’d made him come three times last night.

He bent over the counter as he unpacked what looked like three full paper bags of breakfast.

I crossed the kitchen and flung my arms around him from behind, burrowing against the hard planes of his back. “You liar,” I mumbled into his skin.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Hm?”

“You said you’d be in bed when I woke up.” I pouted, deliberately dramatic. “I was hoping for snuggles.”

Maxim reached back and gave my ass a playful swat. “I am trying to be romantic, solnyshko, and you’re ruining it. You weren’t supposed to come down yet. I thought you’d be worn out after last night, so I’d have time to wake you up myself.”

“And how were you planning on waking me up? ”

“Me soothing your hole with my mouth in apology for last night.”

Fuck, he was right. I’d ruined it. “There’s no apology needed. I and my hole thank you for the generosity you showed it last night.”

Maxim chuckled, turned around, and wrapped his arms around my waist, then lowered his head.

His lips touched mine, gentle, coaxing, not demanding.

The kind of kiss that didn’t need heat to leave me breathless.

Just the warmth of him, the care behind it.

He kissed me like he meant it. Like he felt it.

Each brush of his mouth was unhurried, reverent, like he was learning me all over again.

He traced lazy circles at the small of my back with his thumb while he cradled my jaw with his other hand, and I melted into him without hesitation. The world quieted. All that remained was this—soft lips, a steady hold, and the quiet certainty that last night we chose each other again.

“Go back to bed so I can show you my romantic side,” Maxim said.

“Romantic?” I peeked over his shoulder at the logos stamped on the brown bags. “From Bakery House? Maxim, you ordered breakfast?”

“It’s good food. You said you loved it before.”

“But you know what would be more romantic?” I gave him a wink. “If you cooked it yourself.”

He gave me a look. “Don’t push it, brat. Be a good boy and do what I say. Go back to bed.”

I giggled and pressed a quick kiss to his neck, then spun on my heel and scampered out of the kitchen. “I’m going to pretend to be asleep! Bring it up!”

His laughter followed me up the stairs, rich and low.

I threw myself back into the bed dramatically, fluffing the pillows and snuggling beneath the covers like a pampered prince. I sure felt like one. When the door creaked softly a few minutes later, I kept my eyes closed and let out a theatrical little snore.

“Really?” Maxim’s voice drawled. “You’re not even going to try to be convincing?”

I opened one eye. “You promised breakfast in bed. I’m setting the scene.”

He shook his head, smiling as he set the tray down—complete with croissants, scrambled eggs, perfectly crisped bacon, and two steaming cups of coffee. Everything smelled sinfully good.

“Damn.” My stomach growled. “I’m actually starving after that sex marathon.”

“Of course you are. I stood on business last night.”

“Well, don’t be so smug about it.” I picked up a piece of bacon. “But yeah, you did handle your shit.”

We ate slowly, feeding each other bites, laughing when a crumb caught on my lip or when I spilled a drop of jam on his bare chest and licked it off. It was so disgustingly domestic that it made my chest ache in the best way.

“How are you feeling?” he asked after a while, brushing a thumb across my jaw.

“Sore,” I admitted with a grin. “But like… the good kind of sore.”

He chuckled. “Think you’d be up for going out later today?”

“Depends. If it doesn’t require a whole lot of walking. I can feel my butthole with every step I take.” I plucked a piece of croissant from his hand. “What are you smiling about?”

“The way you talk about our sex life makes a man feel ten feet tall.” He leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Okay, how about we see how you feel later? If you’re up to it, I’ll take you out for dinner.”

“That sounds good. ”

“Any particular restaurant in mind?”

“Nope. Since there’s no chance of sex tonight, I can eat whatever I want. You’ll find the best place for us. I trust you.”

Maxim stilled for half a second.

Just enough for me to see the flicker in his eyes—surprise, softness, something raw he didn’t usually let surface.

He gently took my hand in his and lifted it between us. My heart tripped seeing the bracelet. I hadn’t noticed him wearing it until last night, and it’d healed something inside me.

Maxim pressed a slow kiss to the back of my hand. Not playful. Not teasing.

Sincere.

“Wren,” he said my name softly. “I know it hasn’t been easy for you, finding out the truth about what I am, about your father. I swear on my life that I’ll never let you down. Not ever.”

I stared at him, barely breathing.

My voice came out quiet, almost unsure. “You really do love me… don’t you?”

His eyes softened. “With everything I am. With every dark, broken piece of me. Loving you feels like the only good thing I’ve ever done right.”

Something in my chest stuttered. I blinked fast, struggling to hold his gaze through the knot forming in my throat.

“But why?” I whispered. “You’re you. And I’m—I’m nobody. I’m not powerful. I’m not rich. I’m average in looks. I’m just… me.”

“First of all, you’re not average. You’re so fucking gorgeous, and your body’s perfection.

I can’t keep my hands off you.” He touched my cheek, his thumb brushing under my eye.

“But also because you see me, even when you’re afraid of me.

You hold me without needing anything in return.

You never wanted the empire, the money, the power.

You just wanted me. And when everything else falls away…

you’re the only thing that makes me feel like I’m still human. And if I get a little possessive?—”

“A little?”

“All right, then, a lot possessive and overprotective, it’s because I can’t afford to lose you. Everything else I can, but not you.”

I didn’t have words, so I touched his cheek, pulled him forward, and kissed him.

My Pakhan’s love was scary. Like jumping off a cliff. The leap might be terrifying, but the view? Breathtakingly beautiful. I knew that because I’d already jumped. And it was absolutely stunning.