Page 26 of Dark Desires (Chicago Bratva #1)

ISABELLA

T he Uber glides to a stop in front of Alexei’s high-rise, and I step out, smoothing my dress and ignoring the lingering buzz of guilt.

Mario’s probably losing his mind right now, but I’ll deal with him later… maybe tell Dad that he deserves a raise for all the gray hairs I’ve given him.

Once inside, my heels click against the polished floor as I make my way to the front desk, where an employee looks up, all polite curiosity.

“Hi there, Seth,” I say with a glance at his badge. “I’m here to see Alexei Plushenko.”

His brow furrows. “Is he expecting you?”

“Nope.” I lean on the counter just enough to seem easy-breezy. “But I promise you, he wants to see me.”

He hesitates, clearly torn between doing his job and not wanting to piss off someone who looks like she belongs here. Smart kid.

He reaches for his phone. “Let me call him.”

My hand shoots forward, my fingertips landing on his wrist, stopping him.

“Look, Seth,” I lower my voice conspiratorially, “do I look like I’m here to cause trouble? My visit is meant to be a surprise. Just let me go up, and I promise Alexei won’t have a reason to complain.”

His lips twitch, and I know I’ve got him.

He sighs. “Fine.” He presses another button to unlock the elevator. “But if he says anything, this conversation didn’t happen. You snuck in before I could catch you.”

“Deal.” I wink before striding over to the private elevator.

The ride up is smooth, but my heart is racing. When the doors open, soft piano music floats through the air, catching me off guard. I step into Alexei’s apartment, and there he is, seated at his piano, his fingers gliding over the keys. There’s a glass of whiskey close at hand.

I lean against the wall, watching him play, and for a moment, I’m transfixed. He’s in his element, his face relaxed. It’s disarming.

When the last note fades, I clap softly. His head snaps up, and his blue eyes lock onto mine. There’s a flicker of surprise, then something else—something darker, more heated.

“I’ll have to talk to the front desk about their security.”

“Are you mad?” I tilt my head with mock innocence.

His lips curve into a sexy little smirk. “Maybe a little. But I have other feelings taking precedence.”

“Oh? And what feelings are those?”

“You don’t want to know,” he says, his voice low and rough. The air between us crackles, and I swear my knees almost give out.

“So,” I say, trying to sound casual, “hidden talent?”

“Not hidden,” he replies. “You just didn’t ask.”

He reaches for his whiskey, taking a slow sip, his eyes on mine as he does. The way he looks at me over the rim of the glass sets my insides on fire.

He swallows, setting the glass down, letting silence hang in the air.

Finally, he speaks.

“You shouldn’t be here.

“I know.”

He starts toward me, shaking his head.

“No, you don’t know, Isa. You’re acting like this is some kind of game. A war is about to break out, and you’re slipping out of the one place you’re safe.”

I sweep my hand toward the apartment. “You mean I’m not safe here?”

A frustrated sigh. “You’re safe here. But you also become my responsibility. I’ve already got the Bratva to worry about, and now I’ve got a curfew-breaking mafia princess to watch out for.”

I put my hands on my hips. “A curfew-breaking mafia princess who’s carrying your baby.”

He comes over to me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“You are. You’re right. But that’s all the more reason you need to be at home. Your mansion’s a fortress, and your father keeps a close eye on you.” He sighs. “Though, seemingly not close enough.”

I look away, letting his hands rest on my shoulders.

“I know. But I just can’t stay way.”

He places his hand on my chin, gently turning my face to his.

“And I feel the same way, Devotchka . So, how do you think it is for me when you’re showing up at my apartment looking like this?”

He squeezes my hips, and my pussy clenches at his touch, a sigh escaping me. God, it feels so good to have his hands on me like that.

“Now,” he says, “tell me why you came? I’m sure it wasn’t to listen to my amateur piano playing.”

I take in a slow, deep breath, and he pulls me against him. I can feel his hardness pulsing to life underneath his jeans.

“It was to see you.”

“Well, you’re seeing me. Now what?”

“Now… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I don’t.” I rub myself against his stiff dick through his jean. God, I want it.

“Lucky for you, I do.”

He leans in, and when his lips finally meet mine, it’s like the world stops. The kiss is electric, deep, and demanding. I melt, my fingers tangling in his hair. All I know is I don’t want it to stop.

But then it does. He takes his lips from mine, and I want them back right away.

“Come, Devotchka .”

Every step we take toward his bedroom is crackling like a live wire. Alexei’s hand is on the small of my back, guiding me, his touch firm and steady. As soon as the door shuts behind us, his lips are on mine again, softer this time but no less urgent.

He pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it to the side. His eyes sweep over me, and I feel both exposed and worshiped under his gaze. Then his focus drops, his fingers brushing the slight curve of my belly.

“You’re showing,” he says. His hand lingers there, warm and reverent. “You look beautiful.”

I blink, caught off guard. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

“How could I not? You’re carrying my child.” A strangely warm smile forms on his lips. Is he warming up to the thought of being a dad?

It’s strange to imagine this hardened killer becoming so soft at the idea of being a father. In those moments, I see a tenderness in him I hadn’t expected.

The dangerous, controlled man I know seems to melt away. And I like it.

He slips the straps of my bra down my shoulders and lets it fall, his hands moving to my waist, pulling me closer. My fingers fumble with his shirt buttons, pushing the fabric off his broad shoulders, revealing the ink that winds across his skin.

By the time we’re on the bed, I’m breathless, every nerve in my body singing from his touch.

His hands skim over my bare skin, his fingers mapping me like he’s committing every curve, every freckle, every inch of me to memory. He cups my breasts, squeezing them just enough to make me moan, and make my nipples go hard.

His lips follow the path of his hands, brushing against my shoulder, the dip of my collarbone, the sensitive spot just below my ear. My fingers curl into his shoulders, anchoring myself as he moves lower, his mouth trailing down my torso.

His mouth finds one nipple, then the other. My back arches as I run my fingers through his thick, dark hair, my gaze focused on the flicks of his tongue against my nipples.

When his hand slides between my thighs, I can’t hold back the sharp gasp that escapes me. His touch is skilled, confident, his fingertips parting my lips, teasing my clit.

“Oh, wow,” I say. “Don’t… don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. His lips find my neck as he keeps touching me. He makes slow circles around my clit, one of his fingers slipping into my slick folds, the presence of him inside just what I needed.

My body reacts instinctively, arching toward him, desperate for more. His fingers move in a rhythm that has me spiraling, my breathing ragged as he coaxes me closer and closer to the edge.

“Alexei.” The orgasm draws closer and closer, my hips bucking into his hand. It feels so good.

“I’ve got you.” His voice is low and deep, his breath warm against my skin.

His eyes flick up to meet mine, intense and unwavering, grounding me in the moment even as my body tightens and coils.

The tension builds, white-hot and consuming, until it finally snaps.

My back bows, my breath catching in my throat as the pleasure crashes over me in waves, leaving me trembling beneath him.

He doesn’t rush, his touch staying steady and deliberate, drawing every last bit of sensation out of me until I’m completely undone.

“God, you’re so sexy when you come.”

Then, he’s above me. His lips move like they have all the time in the world, brushing soft kisses along my neck, lingering at my collarbone, and tracing the edge of my jaw. I break out into goosebumps, moaning with each kiss, my pussy growing so wet that I can hardly think straight.

I lick my lips at the sight of his gorgeous dick, my mouth watering.

“You’re driving me crazy, Alexei.”

His lips curve into a slow, wicked smile against my skin.

“Good. I’d hate to be suffering alone.”

I laugh, but the sound turns into a gasp as he shifts, his body aligning perfectly with mine. I reach down and take hold of his hardness, stroking him slowly, savoring his solid warmth in my touch.

“Please,” I say. “No teasing. Please. I need you so much.”

Mercifully, he does what I ask. He positions himself at my entrance, holding there for a long, delicious moment before leaning down and kissing me again.

“You ready?”

“So ready.”

With a push, he finally enters me, slow and deliberate, every inch making my breath catch. It’s not just the physical connection—it’s deeper, a pull I can feel in my chest, in my soul.

“Look at me,” he whispers, his hands framing my face as he begins to move. His blue eyes lock on mine, and I can’t look away even if I wanted to. There’s something raw and vulnerable in his gaze, something that strips me bare in ways that have nothing to do with my body.

“Alexei.”

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against mine in the softest kiss. “And I’m yours, whether you like it or not.”

“Who says I don’t like it?” I shoot back. He chuckles, a sound that vibrates through me, sending shivers down my spine.

He pushes into me slow and deep, thrusting and bottoming me out again and again. I squirm from the pleasure, reaching around and clapping my hands down hard onto his perfect, sculpted ass.

“Good,” he replies, picking up the pace of his strokes. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go.”