Page 26 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva (Zolotov Bratva #14)

She opens her mouth to protest, but the words die as I guide one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her to me. I look up, meeting her gaze through the spray of water, and then I lean forward and taste her.

She gasps, her hands flying to the wall behind her for support. I take my time lapping her up, my tongue gliding back and forth with soft strokes. Her fingers tangle in my wet hair, pulling just enough to send sparks down my spine.

“Ilariy,” she pants, her head falling back against the tiles.

I slip one finger inside her, then two, curling them as I continue to work her with my tongue. Her walls clench around me, and I groan against her, making her cry out.

“Oh god,” she moans, her hips rocking against my mouth.

I double down on the speed, my fingers drumming against her walls, my tongue gliding across her clit. I feel her legs begin to tremble, and she moans, her hands now clutching my shoulders for support, and I feel her spiraling.

“Ilariy!” she calls out my name. God, she’s so wet, and she’s all mine. “Just like that, please,” she whimpers, and I fix my pace to remain at the level she likes, allowing the moments to pass, allowing her dam to fill, until at last, I feel her start to flutter.

I keep my tongue pressed on her, no longer flicking, just letting the sensation remain, and she digs into my shoulders as my fingers keep hitting that spot she loves, and the next thing I know, she loses control.

She comes with a searing moan, and her entire body shudders, and she weakens, half-falling until her back is clinging to the wall, one leg still over my shoulder. I work her through it, only pulling back when she pushes weakly at my shoulder.

When I look up and see her with those flushed cheeks, those heavy-lidded eyes, that heaving chest, and glistening skin, I wonder to myself how the hell I got so damn lucky.

She looks ethereal, drenched from head to toe with little droplets, and I think that such pretty eyes can only belong to a queen.

I stand, wincing just a little. She obviously notices.

“We should get out,” she says with concern. “You’re still healing.”

“There are many ways to heal,” I murmur, leaning in to kiss her. She tastes herself on my lips and moans, pressing closer. My cock throbs between us, hard and aching. “I need you.”

She reaches between us to stroke me, her touch light and teasing. “Then take me to bed.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I shut off the water and grab a towel with one hand while the other reaches Arina’s waist. I try to pat us dry, as much as I can, as fast as I can, and then lift her off her feet, ignoring the little stab of pain in my ribs.

She wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck as I carry her still-damp body to bed. I can’t wait any longer. I don’t care if the sheets get soaked. My entire body is on fire, and she’s the only one who can put it out.

I gently ease her into bed and clamber in over her, my arms supporting my weight above. For a moment, I just stare, take in this beautiful, incredible woman.

“What are you thinking?” she asks, her hand coming up to trace the lines between my brows.

“That I don’t deserve you,” I admit.

Her eyes soften. “Maybe not,” she says with a small smile. “But you have me anyway.”

I lower myself over her and slide one hand between her legs. She parts for me, cradles me between her thighs. I dip my head low and take her lips against mine as my fingers dip into her, finding her still wet and ready.

“Are you trying to torture me?” she moans against my mouth, and I grin, biting into her lower lip before pulling away from the kiss.

I meet her gaze, and she holds it as I position my cock at her entrance. I push inside, inch by inch, and she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders. Once I’m fully rested inside her, I stop for just a moment to feel her wrapped around me, hot and tight.

She urges me with her body, shifting her hips.

I withdraw slowly, then thrust back in. She moans and throws her head back as I continue to ride her at a pace that’s just right, not too fast. I haven’t had her for so damn long that I want this to last. I want to remember every gasp, every flutter of her eyelashes, every time her lips part on a moan.

Her hands roam down my back until they rest on my ass. Her hips rise to meet every thrust, and she pushes into my ass, edging me deeper.

God, she’s so eager that I find myself spiraling into the land of no return. I pick up the pace, drive into her much harder and faster, and her moans grow louder. The sounds of her pleasure are like music to my ears, adding such sensuality that it heightens every nerve on my cock.

I feel her pussy tighten, like she’s doing it on purpose, like she wants all of me, and my pleasure begins to coil into itself, like it wants release.

“Fuck,” she screams, a dirty little word, and I growl, dipping down to swallow her moans. I begin to roll my hips, so my cock stays deep in her, consistently hitting the spot she likes, and her fingers dig into my back.

“Oh my god,” she moans. “I’m close.”

I slip a hand between us and begin to circle her clit, my eyes transfixed on the way her lashes flutter against her cheeks as she tries to focus.

“Ilariy,” she cries out, almost a half-sob in pleasure, and her hands clutch at the sheets like a lifeline, and I’m ready to snap when she does first. I feel her flutter around me, her legs trembling around my waist, where she grips so hard, and then, she lurches off the bed.

Her walls now clench around me and pull me deeper, and just the sight, the sound, the feel of her is enough to make me spring loose. I close my eyes tight until I see red, and I bury my face in her neck when I cum.

We stay like that for long moments, our breathing gradually slowing, our bodies cooling. And then I roll to my side and pull her closer, nestling her against me.

“Are you okay?” she asks in a sleepy little voice. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m better than ever,” I assure her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Rest now,” she murmurs. “You still need to heal.”

I hold her close, my own eyes growing heavy, and drift into peaceful, midday slumber, something I don’t ever remember doing. Around Arina, I just feel …relaxed.

* * *

For the next three days, Arina and I spend more time together outside my room, sometimes cooking together. One night, I convinced her to watch a horror movie with me, and she clung to me all night in fear afterward.

I smile as I think back to that night. I didn’t mean to scare her like that, but if the thought of ghosts is enough to make her stay close, I have half the mind to tell her this house is haunted.

Of course I won’t do that, I think as I reach for my tie. I can’t be that cruel. But still, it was funny.

Finally, she’s allowing me to go back to work. I had to have the doctor come over yesterday to have her hear it from him.

Once fully dressed, I exit my room and make my way down to my waiting car when I see Arina in the foyer, holding out a little doggy bag.

“What the hell is this?” I ask in surprise as I look at the little paper bag.

“You need to take your antibiotics at noon,” she fusses over me. “Make sure you eat before.”

My heart melts as I take her into my arms. When I pull back, I see the worry in her eyes.

“You do know we have food at the office, right?” I inquire, with a cocked brow.

“Homemade is always healthier,” she says like a know-it-all.

I shake my head and chuckle. As she moves to walk away, I can’t help but smack her ass just for fun. She squeals and turns with a giggle, but at the same time gives me this dirty little look as if to say she’ll get back at me later.

I can’t wait for later.

***

Hours later, I’m sitting at the conference table waiting for it to begin. Today, we have a meeting with the alliance, and since the Zolotovs are the most powerful of us all, Boris takes the lead.

People are still pouring in, and every single one who does walks over to tell me how glad they are I’m okay.

At last, the meeting begins, and since it’s happening at our office, Agafon speaks first. “Good to see you vertical, brother. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” I reply dryly, earning a few chuckles. “But I’ll live.”

“Any idea who was behind the attack?” Vladimir Orlov asks, leaning forward on his arms.

“We’re still gathering intelligence,” Melor says with a sigh.

There’s a short silence before Nikolai speaks. “Did we… look into the Sokolovs?”

Now, the room turns tense, and I notice everyone avoids my gaze.

“I’m sure they’ve been looked into, right?” I murmur. “Just as everyone else?”

“We believe it might be them,” Agafon says, giving me a sheepish look.

“Why?” I ask, my heart racing. “Is there proof?”

“Well, not exactly,” Boris says from the head of the table.

“So why would you say that?” I ask him, before turning to meet the room.

No one speaks until, at last, Nikandr chimes in. “Brother…perhaps it would be wise to let them have Arina back.”

“What?” My voice comes out ice-cold.

“You took their sister. It’s a matter of time before they come for you,” Agafon tries to reason with me.

I feel a flare of defensiveness, not just for myself but also for Arina, who hasn’t once mentioned her brothers. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to see them.

“Arina is choosing to stay with me! The fact is, she doesn’t want to go back.”

“Really?” Lion asks, his tone skeptical. “Have you even asked her that?”

I think of the day she overheard my call with Tikhon and reiterate my point. “She could have gone back to her brothers at any point. She didn’t.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know it’s an option, Ilariy,” Faddey points out.

“She’s not going back!” I say, without even listening. The blood rushes to my ears. Don’t they understand?

There are several voices speaking around me; everyone has a thought, an opinion. But all I can think of is a future without Arina in it, and I realize I can’t imagine it.

Because such a future doesn’t exist.

It’s only when Sergey Orlov suggests using Arina as bait to draw out her brothers that I raise my voice.

“Absolutely not,” I nearly shout. “I am not using Arina for our agenda. She’s innocent, and I made a mistake, but I will not let her pay for it.”

“But you already have her,” Samuil Orlov points out. “If you aren’t going to return her, what’s the plan?”

“What’s the plan?” I hiss. “She’s my wife. There is no plan! She’s under my protection and she’s NOT to be involved in any of this.”

The anger within me reaches a breaking point, and before anyone can say another word, I stand to leave. “You’re all acting in the dark. When you find proof of who actually attacked our warehouse, then we can talk. Until then, stop wasting my time with your stupid little suggestions.”

With that, I walk out. I hear Agafon call after me, but I slam the door shut behind me. Let them have their meetings. Let them talk all they want.

I won’t use Arina. Nor will I send her back. She’s mine.

I get into my car, and the first thing I do is call Arina. I don’t know why, but just the thought of losing her scares me. I need to hear her voice; I need to feel her soothe my nerves.

“Hey,” she says, her voice warm. “How was the meeting?”

“Tedious,” I reply, settling into my seat. “How are you?”

“Missing you,” she admits, and the simple honesty of it makes my heart clench. “When will you be home?”

Home. The word settles in my chest, warm and right. “Soon,” I promise. “Save dinner for me?”

“I’ll even cook,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Wow, I must be special,” I tease.

“You are. I’ll see you soon,” she says warmly.

I hang up with a stupid smile on my face. I think about the meeting, about the moment I declared Arina off-limits.

The truth is, I’m not ready to give her up. Not now, maybe not ever.