Page 28 of His Darkest Obsession (Baryshev Bratva #1)

INDIGO

I stand frozen, clutching Anatoly's jacket around my shoulders while the echoes of his mother’s disgust still hang in the air.

"I..." My voice catches. I clear my throat and try again. "I'm sorry."

Anatoly turns to me with an unreadable expression. The coldness that radiated from him moments ago while confronting his family hasn't fully dissipated.

"For what?"

"For embarrassing you." I gesture down at myself, at the scandalous dress barely covered by his jacket. "I shouldn’t have. I was just trying to..." I trail off, realizing how petty my rebellion seems now.

Anatoly's eyes soften slightly as he steps closer. "You didn't embarrass me."

"I did. Look at me." I pull his jacket open slightly, revealing the torn edges of the once-elegant dress. "I look like—"

"My wife," he interrupts firmly. His hand reaches out to adjust the jacket back around my shoulders. "You look like my wife. And my wife apologizes to no one."

I blink up at him, thrown by his calm response. "But your mother—"

"My mother has always had opinions about everything I do." His jaw tightens slightly. "That's nothing new."

"I should’ve made a better first impression."

Anatoly shakes his head, a dangerous edge returning to his voice. "No, printsessa, I should’ve told you about today. If there’s one person to blame, it’s me."

His left hand comes up, fingers gently touching my lips to silence me.

"Not you."

I stare at Anatoly, startled by his declaration and admission. His fingers linger near my lips and the indentations that are now starting to fade from my cheeks before dropping away, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake on my skin.

Slowly, warmth returns to my body as our breaths mix in the air between us.

“And for what it’s worth, I liked what you did to this dress.”

My heartbeat races to my throat, and an unexpected shiver surges through my blood. I turn to look in his eyes, and find neither malice nor lie. I reach out and slip my fingers into his, and feel the warmth travel over my skin.

He lets out a slow measured breath as he steps closer into my space, until I can feel the air between us growing thicker and flaring with heat from every breath we draw together.

“Really?”

“Yes, printsessa,” he replies as he moves his hand to slowly push aside the lapel of his jacket to reveal the mutilated dress. “It tells me that there’s a part of you that wants to stop hiding.”

His eyes lock with mine as his finger push back his jacket to reveal a shoulder. His touch inches down the side, and sets my body on fire. A sigh escapes my throat as his hand moves lower until it starts stroking the small of my back.

“A reminder,” he continues. “That you never have to hide when you’re with me.”

I bite my lip and all it does is draw him closer. His touch moves further down my back until it rounds at the curve of my ass. My stomach flips as he kneads the soft flesh, sending another burst of warm wet heat surging through me.

The space between us continues to shrink with each beat of our heart, and the gentle feel of his hand on my body as his hand leaves my ass and moves along the outside of my thigh.

I gasp from his touch, and my free hand reaches up until it finds the nape of his neck to pull him closer to me. He keeps his eyes fixed on me as he continues to draw that path up my outer thigh, over my knees, and starts moving back down along my inner thigh.

A tremor of desire awakes inside of me from his soft and gentle touch and I pull him in close enough to capture his lips against mine.

There’s a moment of hesitation between us when our lips make contact. For a second, Anatoly’s hand stills, and I’m afraid that he’s about to draw back. But then, his right hand slips behind me and pulls me closer to him.

“Oh.” I breathe.

His tongue slips into my mouth and mine rises eagerly to meet it.

The kiss sends another tremor through my body and I feel my legs falling open to invite him closer in.

A moan escapes my lips. He echoes with one of his own.

And both of us swallow each other’s tiny admission of pleasure as we greedily explore each other’s mouth, lazy and wet.

His hand between my legs move until it brushes against the edge of my underwear and slips beneath the fabric to find me wet and waiting. I pull him closer and suck his tongue while blood drums in my ear.

The kiss deepens, grows rougher, and more possessive as he pushes his first finger inside of me.

I whimper as my pussy stretches to accommodate the intrusion.

The sensation of being filled drives all thoughts out of my head and I pull him closer as I tilt my head up to savor the feeling of being overwhelmed by him.

To be completely owned by him.

A second finger joins the first, and I break the kiss to let out a soft long moan of pleasure. He nips at my neck, kissing along the exposed skin as he starts to move. My hips roll in response, slowly at first. Then faster and faster.

His thick fingers move in and out, torturing me slowly with precision while his palm cups my throbbing clit and his lips graze my neck. Every time he pushes in, I can feel the air being driven out from my lungs.

And every time I take a breath, it somehow doesn’t like it’s enough.

But I don’t care.

I yank his head back and turn so that when he comes down, his mouth finds mine again. The moment he does, my free hand moves down to unzip his pants.

“Printsessa,” he moans against my mouth

“Not your printsessa,” I correct him as I reach and wrap my hand around his hard throbbing shaft. “Your britvochka.”

Heat fills the space between my fingers. It’s so hot. So smooth. And so fucking big. I move my hand up its searing length and I’m shocked when it takes me almost two heartbeats to find the tip.

He responds by speeding up his fingers inside of me, stretching me open as I stroke his cock. Precum coats my fingers as I stroke him. Wet obscene sounds fill the air between us. But from who? I can’t tell anymore.

And it doesn’t matter.

Then, he reaches up with his right hand, grabs the hand I have on his neck, and pins it on the wall behind my head.

I yelp in surprise, and he takes the opportunity to envelope me in his heat as he presses his mouth against me again until I’m lost in a world of tongues, fingers, and the endlessly pulsing heat in my hand.

“Yes,” I moan as I pump his cock as mercilessly while his fingers fuck my pussy.

His hand tightens around mine above my head, and he breaks the kiss one more time so that we might look at each other and see the wanton lust swirling in both our gazes. My pussy is filled, and my hips now buck off the floor to meet his hand each time he plunges deep inside of me.

He leans in with his full weight, and I find myself fighting just to keep breathing. If it isn’t for his hand pinning mine above my head, I would’ve slipped down long ago.

Then, he starts talking with every thrust of his fingers.

“You’re so fucking wet, britvochka.”

“So fucking tight.”

“And it’s all mine.”

Sweat drops down from his brow and blossoms across my skin just like it had in my fantasy. My fingers start to shake as I continue work his cock, and nothing can stop the moans that start punching out of my throat, each one faster and louder than the last.

“Yes…” I cry. “I’m so fucking wet. So fucking tight. And it’s all for you. All because of you.”

“Then look at me,” he commands. “Look at me when you come for me.”

My eyes open and I can practically feel his eyes fucking me in my head. But I don’t care. Not right now. Not when his hand is buried in me like this, not when he’s got me pinned against this wall, not when his cock is starting to grow harder and harder as I pump.

He’s burning me up with his hand, his lips, his teeth, and his eyes. And I’m loving every second of it.

Please! I plead with my eyes as I lose the ability to speak.

My orgasm is coming.

I can feel it.

I...

I—

FUCK!

OH FUCK!

Heat blooms, and then explodes through my body, and I come violently against his hand. My pussy clenches around his thick fingers, and fresh ripples of pleasure crashes through me. I grip his cock harder, and I shriek again and again and again.

“Indigo…” he gasps. His brows knit together from exertion, and I know what he’s about to do a second before it happens.

Hot ropey spurts shoot forward, splashing my fingers, my thighs, the valley between my breasts, and even a few drops on my chin.

We stay like that for a few moments, and he continues to look at me as his cock twitches in my hand and spills more drops of his semen. But for the first time, I see something else shimmering behind his glacier blue eyes.

Something that tells me that he meant every word when he told me that I am his wife.

Something that tells me that I have nothing to be jealous about from the girl he threw aside.

Something that tells me that I have nothing to fear.

So long as I’m next to him.