Page 12 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

A lexei chuckles softly, his lips against mine.

His hands slide down my sides, tracing every curve like he doesn’t want to miss a single inch. I tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and revealing the gorgeous body underneath. My heart races as I trail my fingers over his chest, savoring the heat of his skin.

“You’re staring.”

“Maybe I like what I see.”

“Good.” He leans in, his lips brushing against my neck, slow and teasing. “Because I like everything about you.”

His hands find the hem of my sweater, and with one smooth motion, he pulls it over my head. The cool air kisses my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of his touch. His fingers trail along my bare shoulders, down my arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You’re beautiful, Isa.”

He kisses me again, deeper this time, his hands exploring every bit of me. My body responds instinctively, arching into his touch, craving more.

We sink onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and heat. He kisses me like I’m the only thing that matters, like the world could fall apart and he wouldn’t care as long as I was in his arms.

“Alexei.” My voice is shaky, full of want.

He pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his blue eyes dark and full of something that makes my heart stutter.

“Tell me what you need.”

“You.”

"You’ve got me."

The words spill out before I can think better of it. His lips crash into mine, leaving me dizzy and not entirely sure which way is up.

We quickly undress each other. Skin on skin, his heat all over me, driving out every coherent thought. I place my hand on his hardness through his boxer briefs, my pussy clenching as I grip him.

When his lips trail down my neck, pausing to tease my collarbone, I’m officially useless.

I grip his back, nails digging in, pulling him closer. "Alexei…"

He climbs on top of me, leaning down and taking one of my nipples in his mouth. I moan and arch my back as he teases me with his tongue, flicking his eyes up to me, those electric blues driving me wild.

“Please.” The teasing’s driven me to the brink. I need more. “Please.”

Alexei moves up, kissing me hard and deep, his tongue finding mine.

“I need to taste you, Devotchka .”

“Then do it.”

He chuckles at my command and then lowers himself, his lips tracing a path from my lips to my neck to my breasts and down my stomach. Finally, after an achingly long time, he’s between my legs, kissing my inner thighs.

Alexei moves to my lips and then his tongue is inside me, tasting me, teasing me. His mouth and breath are so hot against my skin, and all I can do is moan and arch and run my hands through his dark, thick hair.

His tongue withdraws, moving over my clit before he sucks it into his warm, wet mouth. The pleasure is so intense that I can’t help but whimper. His fingers slide into me, hitting my G-spot as he keeps licking and sucking my swollen clit.

“I love to see you like this,” he says between kisses. “Ready to unravel for me.”

I push myself into him, the way he licks me making my hips buck against my own control.

“Just-like-that, just-like-that,” I moan.

My climax builds and builds and then crashes over me, my body quaking from the intensity. He eats me through it, making sure to wring every last drop of pleasure out.

He pauses, leaning back just enough to meet my gaze. His eyes are blazing, all that icy blue electricity locked right on me.

"Look at me.” His tone is low and commanding.

I hold his stare, and suddenly, it’s not just heat—it’s something heavier, something I don’t have words for. Whatever this is, it’s bigger than either of us, and right now, I don’t care to unpack it. I just want to feel.

He wipes my juices off his smirk with the back of his hand, coming in for another kiss. As our tongues dance, he positions himself between my thighs, the head of his dick grazing my soaking wet lips.

“Protection,” he says.

Now what am I supposed to do? Tell him that I don’t need it because I’m already pregnant with his kid?

I need to tell him—I know it now. But this is not the time.

“We’re good.”

“Excellent.”

He’s on top of me and my eyes move across the scars and tattoos on his chest. I place my hand on his right pec, feeling scar tissue underneath the ink of an Orthodox cross. God, he’s so fucking sexy it hurts.

He positions himself right where he needs to be, his cock right at my entrance. Then, with one slow, powerful thrust, he enters me.

“Oh, God .” I shift and squirm as he pushes all of his inches inside, my walls stretching, gripping his cock.

He leans down to kiss me deep once he’s bottomed me out, warm and hard inside. I wrap my legs around his waist, holding him right there, the pleasure radiating out.

“You’re so goddamn sexy.”

His words are like honey, and I watch as he pulls back and pushes into me again, and again. I’m so wet and slick that his thickness slides into me with total ease.

“There you go, gorgeous,” he says, leaning in and kissing my neck. “Just let go. Come for me again.”

That’s all it takes. His cock hits all the right spots, and I reach around, digging my nails into his muscular back as the coils of pleasure unwind, another orgasm flowing through me.

“More,” I say as soon as it fades. “I need more.”

He flashes me a smirk and picks up the pace, pounding into me relentlessly, his hips driving forward with pure power. My moans mix with his grunts and the sounds of skin on skin.

“Come with me,” I say. “Please, I need it.”

“You always know just what to say, Devotcha .”

He drives into me harder, like a machine. The coil of pleasure again winds tighter and tighter.

And then it snaps.

I cry out in total ecstasy as another orgasm rocks through me. My pussy clenches around his thick cock, and that’s enough to make his body go taut with his own climax. Alexei grunts something in Russian as he drains into me, filling me with his warmth.

I lock my ankles together behind his back, holding him in place and making damn sure that he gives me every last drop.

When it’s over, I’m completely undone, sprawled out on his couch like I’ve run a marathon and forgot how to breathe. He slides out of me, kissing me slowly and deeply one last time before rolling to my side, our chests rising and falling.

He’s next to me, his arm draped over my waist, and for a second, I just let myself sink into it—the warmth, the safety, the fleeting peace of pretending the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

But even as I lie there, my fingers idly tracing the lines of his chest, reality’s already creeping back in. This? Us? It’s a mess. And with what I’m hiding, it’s only going to get worse.

The first thing I notice when I wake up is that I’m not on the couch where I passed out last night.

Instead, I’m in a very large, very comfortable bed. His bed. The same bed I woke up in the first time we slept together.

Only this time, he’s sleeping right next to me. He’s face-down, his gorgeous, tattooed back rising and falling with steady breaths. I could watch him for hours.

And I notice that his face is softer in sleep. He looks completely different like this—like the weight he always carries has finally lifted. No smirks, no tension, just peace. It makes me want to curl back under the covers and pretend none of this is happening.

But reality smacks me in the face like a freight train.

Ten weeks pregnant. His baby. My secret. Our mess.

I glance at him again, still dead to the world, and the panic sets in, stealing my earlier resolve. I can’t tell him. Not now. Maybe not ever. If this news were to get out, it could put everyone in danger.

I’ll figure it out, tell my dad that I hooked up with some random guy and I never got his number. It won’t exactly raise his opinion of his dear daughter, but it’d be a hell of a lot better than ruining this alliance.

I slide out of bed as quietly as I can, grabbing my clothes from where they’d been once again placed neatly on a nearby chair, and tiptoeing toward the door. My heart’s pounding, my head racing. If I can just make it out without waking him, I’ll figure out the rest later.

“Going somewhere?”

His voice stops me dead in my tracks. I freeze, every nerve in my body on high alert. Slowly, I turn around, and there he is, sitting up in bed, his eyes sharp and locked on me.

“Yeah. I need to leave.”

I hold my clothes against my body, suddenly feeling super vulnerable.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands, his expression unreadable but his presence filling the room.

“No, Isabella.”

My blood runs cold.

“Excuse me?”

“Something’s going on, and you’re going to tell me what it is.” He grabs a pair of boxers from his nearby dresser and steps into them.

“I’m fine,” I say, my voice coming out too fast, too defensive. “I just need to get home, that’s all.”

He takes a step closer, and I feel like a deer caught in headlights.

“You’re lying,” he says flatly. “You’ve been off since we came back into each other’s lives. And now you’re sneaking out of my bed like you can’t get away fast enough. What the hell’s going on?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. The weight of the secret is crushing me, pressing down until it feels like I can’t breathe. I glance at the door, then back at him. There’s no escape. Not anymore.

“I can’t,” I whisper, my voice breaking.

“You’re going to have to, Isa.” He closes the distance between us, placing his hands on my shoulders. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

My heart feels like it’s about to burst out of my chest. There’s no way out now. No more dodging, no more hiding.

I take a shaky breath and look him in the eyes, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m pregnant.”