Page 19 of Her Darkest Possession (Baryshev Bratva #2)

ANATOLY

The door closes behind Vassily and I turn to find Indigo sitting on the edge of my desk, her eyes soft and thoughtful.

"Thank you," she says quietly.

I frown slightly, confused by her gratitude. "For what, printsessa? There's nothing you need to thank me for."

"For explaining the words of that oath." She tucks a strand of blue hair behind her ear, her hazel eyes meeting mine. "I heard you saying it that day... with Roma. Before Valentina pulled me into that other room."

Understanding dawns on me. That day when everything changed between us - when she pulled away and I couldn't understand why. When I thought I was losing her.

"I mistook the meaning," she continues, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought it meant I was nothing to you. That this was all just..." She gestures vaguely between us. "A game or a means to an end."

I cross the room in three long strides, taking her face between my hands. "Never. You were never nothing to me."

"I know that now," she says. "After seeing this today, I understand what those words mean. What they really mean."

I press my forehead against hers, breathing her in. The scent of her hair and the warmth of her skin form everything that grounds me in this chaotic world.

"You are the most important thing in my life," I tell her, my voice rough with emotion. "You and the baby we made together." My hand drifts down to rest on her still-flat stomach. "You are my queen, Indigo. The bratva means nothing to me without you in it."

She tilts her head up, her lips finding mine in a kiss that feels like coming home. Like everything I never knew I needed until she crashed into my life with a straight razor and defiance in her eyes.

When we break the kiss, Indigo's eyes remain closed for a beat longer, as if she's savoring the taste of me on her lips. When those hazel eyes finally open, they're glittering with something I haven't seen before—a confidence that's both new and entirely natural on her.

"Do you mean that?" she asks, her voice soft but steady. "Am I really your queen?"

I don't hesitate. "Yes." The word comes out rougher than I intended, scraped raw with emotion.

Something shifts in her expression. The smile curling on her lips turn just a shade more devious than before.

She slides further up the desk, and tilts her chin up. "Shouldn't you be on your knees for your queen, then?"

My breath catches in my throat at her words. Heat spears through my body and goes straight to my dick as I obey. The wooden floor is hard beneath my knees, but I barely notice as I look up at her.

I've spent my entire life commanding others, making men kneel before me. Yet here I am, willingly dropping to my knees for this woman without a second thought.

And fuck if it doesn't turn me on more than I thought possible.

"What would my queen have me do?" I ask, my voice a low rumble.

She opens her legs and tells me: "Your queen wants you to make her scream."

My cock hardens instantly at her command. I reach up to slide my hand under her sweater, but she stops me.

"No," she says. "I want to stay dressed. I want to feel what it's like to have the pakhan between my legs while I'm still fully clothed."

The idea of it—her fully dressed while I worship her on my knees—nearly makes me groan out loud. I slide my hands up her calves, and feel the familiar contours of her legs underneath her leggings.

I kiss her ankle first, then slowly work my way up her calf, feeling her shiver beneath my lips. When I reach her knee, I switch to the other leg, giving it the same treatment. Her breathing quickens as I take my time, savoring every inch of her skin.

I kiss my way up Indigo's legs. Up her thighs, past the crisscrossing network of scars hiding under the thin materials.

Even though I can't see them, my lips know where they are.

And when I move up them, a surge of anger and anguish moves through me.

Each mark is a reminder of her pain, of what was done to her.

But also of her strength and how she survived everything and still found the capacity to love.

I press my lips over the fabric hiding each scar, a silent promise that no one will ever hurt her again. Not while I'm here.

"Slow down," Indigo tells me, her fingers tangling in my hair. "Let me savor this."

I obey immediately, deliberately slowing my pace. I trace the inside of her thigh with my tongue, coming close to her center before veering away. She makes a frustrated sound that turns into a gasp when I nip at the sensitive skin where her thigh meets her hip.

I continue teasing her, getting closer and closer to her pussy with each kiss, each lick. Her scent is intoxicating, making my mouth water with want. But I hold back, making her wait, making her want it more.

Her fingers tighten in my hair, tugging slightly as if to guide me where she wants me. But I resist, continuing my slow torture as I kiss everywhere but where she needs me most.

I kiss my way up Indigo's thighs, lingering at the junction where her legs meet her torso. Her breathing is heavy now, little gasps escaping her lips each time I get close to where she wants me. I trace the outline of her hip bones with my tongue, savoring the way her body trembles beneath me.

Looking up at her, I'm struck again by how beautiful she is. Her hair is tousled, falling in wild strands to frame her flushed face. Her eyes are half-lidded with desire as she watches my every move. I slide my fingers under the waistband of her leggings and feel the heat radiating from her skin.

"May I?" I ask, my voice rough with need.

A mischievous smile plays on her lips. "What if I say no?"

I press my forehead against her stomach, breathing in her scent. "Then I'll beg for it," I tell her without hesitation. "I'll kneel here and plead with you until you change your mind."

To prove my point, I press my lips to her belly.

"I'll stay here forever if I have to," I murmur against her skin, pushing her thighs wider with gentle pressure. "On my knees before you, waiting for you to let me in."

My hands stroke the outside of her thighs, feeling the muscle beneath the soft fabric.

"Please," I whisper, not above begging for this woman. "Let me taste you. Let me worship you the way you deserve."

She moans then and it sounds so damn sweet that my cock strains painfully against my pants. Her head falls back to expose the elegant line of her throat, and I fight the urge to stand and mark it with my teeth.

"Yes," she breathes, the single word filled with need and command all at once.

I slide my hands up to the waistband of Indigo's leggings, loving the way her breath catches as I curl my fingers underneath. Maintaining eye contact, I slowly tug the fabric down her hips, taking my time to savor each inch of skin that's revealed.

Her legs lift automatically as I pull the leggings all the way down, freeing one foot and then the other. My hands glide back up her bare calves, appreciating the contrast of her soft skin against my calloused palms.

I start my journey upward again, pressing my lips to her ankle, her calf, the inside of her knee. Each kiss is deliberate, a silent declaration of my devotion. When I reach her thighs, I feel her tremble beneath my touch.

I look up to find her watching me, her eyes dark with desire. I've never seen anything more beautiful than Indigo like this—my wife, carrying my child, looking at me like I'm everything she's ever wanted.

My fingers trace the edge of her black lace panties, feeling the dampness that's already soaked through the delicate fabric. I hook one finger beneath the elastic and pull it aside, revealing her glistening pussy to my hungry gaze.

As I pull back, a silky string of her arousal connects the fabric to her folds, evidence of how much she wants this—wants me. The sight makes my cock throb painfully against my zipper.

I look up at her, making sure she sees the raw hunger in my eyes. "You're perfect," I murmur, before lowering my head between her thighs.

I give her one long, torturous lick from her entrance to her clit, savoring her taste on my tongue, the perfect mixture of heaven and sin.

And I can't get enough.

The moan that escapes her lips sends a fresh wave of heat through my body. Her fingers tighten in my hair, holding on as if she needs something to anchor her.

I continue my slow but steady feast between Indigo's legs, savoring every drop of her sweetness. Her taste is intoxicating—like nothing I've ever experienced before. I'm addicted to it, to her.

"You taste so fucking sweet, britvochka," I murmur against her slick folds. "So sweet and perfect."

"Yes," she whispers, her voice already strained. Her fingers tighten in my hair, pulling just enough to send sparks of pleasure-pain down my spine.

I drag my tongue across her entrance in a deliberate, languid stroke before circling her clit without quite touching it. "I love feeling your thighs quiver around my head when I do this," I tell her before sucking gently on her sensitive clit.

"Yes," she gasps, louder this time. Her hips buck slightly, seeking more pressure.

But I pull back just enough, determined to drive her to the edge of madness before letting her fall. My cock throbs painfully in my pants, demanding attention, but I ignore it.

This is about her.

My queen on her throne.

"I love making you fucking moan," I growl, before diving back in to lap at her wetness. "And I can't wait to make you scream."

"Yes, yes," she chants, her breathing growing ragged.

I can feel her getting close—her thighs trembling more intensely, her pussy growing impossibly wetter. But I deliberately keep my pace maddeningly slow, alternating between light flicks of my tongue and broad strokes that never quite give her what she needs.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans, her voice a delicious mixture of pleasure and frustration. Her hips rock forward, trying to increase the pressure against my mouth, seeking the release I'm denying her.