Page 19 of Prince of Control (Bratva Heirs #1)

Chapter Twelve

Baron

I walk up to the bedroom after studying in the dungeon. It’s soundproof down there, and I needed a place to concentrate.

I needed to be away from my looping thoughts about what went down at Whisper’s End. Wrestling between my anger and guilt.

I had the heads’ up from Leo that Denis the fucking menace had asked her to meet him, and I have a tracker in her phone, her purse, and every pair of shoes she has, so it was easy to find her.

Still, I wanted to kill that little mudak for even breathing the same air space as my wife.

I hope he’s only here to find out if our marriage is real.

But the part of me that has to go through and plan the very worst possible scenario foresees Brash kidnapping Lara and ransoming her life in exchange for Adrian’s full future cooperation with the Rostovs.

I can’t let that happen.

On top of it all, I need to make sure I’ve covered every base for Friday’s party.

The Titan House wants to shut us down this year, which means they’ll call the cops or the fire marshall or the Chancellor with noise complaints or over-occupancy alerts or whatever they can think of to shut our party down prematurely.

In the bedroom, I stop and stare at Lara’s open suitcase, which she still hasn’t unpacked. I ordered the dresser for her, and it should be delivered tomorrow. Somehow I doubt it will make this room feel any more like it belongs to her.

She’s uncomfortable.

It was probably wrong of me to insist she share my bed.

I can’t bring myself to make any other arrangements, though.

Last night, I tasted her. She came riding my fingers. I would’ve come too if I hadn’t fucked things up.

The door opens, and Lara steps in. She doesn’t ignore me, as she did this morning. She just stands there, looking at me. There’s an uncertainty to her stance that activates the dom in me.

“Come here.” I open my arms.

I give it a less than twenty percent chance she’ll accept the invitation, but to my shock, she walks forward.

I meet her halfway, wrapping her up in my arms and dropping my face into her hair. It smells like her butterscotch shampoo, which makes my dick chubby remembering I was the one who washed it.

“Let me kiss you,” I murmur. I know we should talk, but I can’t think of what to say. I can’t explain why she needs to stay away from Denis, and I’m not going to apologize for doing what I had to do.

All I know how to do is touch her. That’s what I’m good at. After last night, it’s what I live and breathe for.

I celebrate my blessings when she lifts her face. I cup her cheek in one hand and lower my lips to hers, my other arm wrapped firmly around her back. The first kiss is soft. Exploratory. My lips moving across hers lightly.

I sense surrender in her. I’m guessing she’s tired of fighting me. Probably a little scared. She needs reassurance, and she’s turning to me for it, even though I’m the enemy. It’s classic Stockholm Syndrome, but I’ll work with whatever I can get.

I deepen the kiss, slanting my mouth over hers and prying her lips open with my tongue. She’s in another skirt today–this one is a soft cotton that molds to her hips. I slide my hand around the curve of her ass and squeeze.

She melts into me, molecule by molecule. Her hands brush my chest and slide up to my shoulders.

I tug the hem of her skirt up her thigh until I touch skin, then slide my hand beneath it to cup her ass.

She’s wearing panties that floss her ass, leaving the entire cheek exposed for me to stroke.

I knead it as my tongue explores her mouth.

When my middle finger traces the thin ribbon of fabric that plunges between her cheeks, she moans.

I forget to go slow.

I hoist her up, legs around my waist, and carry her the few steps to the bed where I drop her. “You were a bad fucking wife today, malyshka .” I reach behind my back with one hand and yank my shirt off over my head.

I probably should dial back the dominance considering it was that kind of talk that completely shut her down last night, but the switch has been flipped. Gentle mode is off. Dark mode activated.

And I know how well her body responds to it.

She looks up at me with those big blue eyes, and I want to fucking ravish her. I reach beneath her skirt and yank her panties off in one rough motion.

“Spread those legs for me, Lara. I’m going to eat that pussy.” I don’t wait for her to obey. I push her knees wide, forcing her to fall back on her forearms.

Her pussy is groomed with a neat little triangle of silky dark hair. I rub it with my thumb as I lick into her. She gasps, jerking at the wet contact.

I give it to her good, tonguing all along her slit, inside and out–sucking, nibbling, and tasting her. When I bring the pad of my thumb between her ass cheeks and twist it over her anus, she squeezes her cheeks, lifting her pelvis off the bed.

I lift my head, but keep my thumb firmly in place. It’s a mild threat.

“Are you allowed to date other men, Lara?”

Her pussy squeezes, like my stern-dom voice is going to make her come. She looks at me, a mixture of lust and fear swirling in the depth of her dark-lashed eyes.

I slide my other thumb into her pussy and pump, giving her a little pleasure.

Her head lolls to the side, and she moans.

“Hmm?”

When she doesn’t answer, I remove my thumbs and roll her to her belly. “The correct answer is no , lyubimaya .” I pin her down with my hand in the middle of her back and deliver three hard spanks.

She squeals and kicks her legs. She looks fucking gorgeous with her skirt pushed up and her ass bare. It’s giving Catholic school girl vibes, and my dick gets marble-hard.

I grasp a handful of her ass and squeeze, making a growling sound in my throat. “You have the best ass, printsessa. ”

I slide my fingers between her legs and find her sopping. Nothing gets a girl wetter than a good spanking, in my experience. I deliver two more spanks, this time to the backs of her thighs, below her ass where there’s less padding.

“ Ou !” she protests.

“Let’s try this again.” I rub two fingers slowly between her legs, rewarding her, even as I wind up for more punishment. My thumb fits between her ass cheeks, resting over her anus. She squirms beneath me, letting out a low moan.

I slap her ass several times in quick succession–striking her right cheek, left cheek, then spanning them both in the low center, right over her glorious pussy. I repeat the pattern twice and then stop with my hand resting on her ass, gripping it possessively.

“Are you allowed to date other men?”

She reaches back and covers her ass. “It wasn’t a date!”

My grip on her ass gentles, and I lean forward to push her shirt up and kiss along her spine. “That’s good,” I tell her between kisses. “Because I don’t want to have to take you to the dungeon.”

She stiffens, probably believing terrible things happen there.

“Roll over and give me that pussy again,” I command.

She’s quick to comply, and my heart lurches a little at the sight of her flushed face, obscured by her disheveled hair.

I did that. I gave her that freshly-fucked look, and I’m just getting started.

I return my attention to her pussy, sucking more forcefully. Finding her clit and swirling my tongue around it.

Lara arches her tits up toward the ceiling, her head falling back, mouth open.

“I’m going to fuck you tonight, malysh .” I rise to my knees and unbutton my pants. “And you’re going to be a good girl and take it.” I free my throbbing erection. “Because I need to show you who you belong to.”

I barely register that I’ve said the words that pissed her off last night. I’m speaking my truth, and she needs to hear it.

She does belong to me. She’s my wife. I gave her my name and my protection, and now she’s mine.

I take a moment to shuck my pants and boxers and strip Lara out of her remaining clothes.

“That’s right,” I praise her when her bra comes off, and she’s fully naked.

“This is how I’m going to need you every goddamn night.

” I kneel between her legs, nudging them open to give me access.

“Naked and beneath me, printsessa .” I rub the head of my cock along her slit.

“Screaming my name every time you come.”

I shove into her with a single stroke, and she gasps, her fingernails clawing at my forearms. “Are you close to coming, Lara?” I ease back and push in again.

“Oh… au .”

I’m being too rough. “Sorry, malyshka .” I stop moving to give her a moment to get used to my size.

She pants beneath me. Her gaze slides off to the side.

I catch her jaw and turn her face to mine. “Are you okay?”

I see a trickle of relief in her expression at the connection. At the fact that I stopped playing my dominance games and met her where she was. She nods.

I ease back an inch and push in slowly, watching her expression for signs of pain. I see none. “Ready for more?”

She nods again.

I lower my head to flick my tongue over her nipple then take it fully into my mouth and suck, hard.

She squeezes around my dick, and I nearly lose control.

I rest my weight on one hand propped beside her head and fuck her slowly, watching her face the entire time.

When she closes her eyes, I say, “Eyes on me, princess. I need to see what you’re feeling.”

Lara

“I’m okay.” I lift my hips to take Baron deeper. My voice sounds breathless. I force myself to meet his gaze even though it does crazy things to my chest. To my heart. “It’s good.”

It’s insane that I’m reassuring him after he just rolled me over and spanked me for cheating on him, but he’s paying close attention to me.

He saw me wince when he first thrust in and apologized. So I know that as much as he’s acting the role of punisher right now, he’s not going to really hurt me.

That’s when I decide I want it. Whatever he has to give me tonight–I want it all.

I was on board before, but part of me was holding back. I was scared and defensive and still mad at him over whatever he did to Denis.

But I feel safe now, as crazy as that seems.

Maybe it was hearing Phoenix’s trust in him. Maybe it was his apology. All I know is that my body is in receiving mode, and I want everything he has to give.

“Please.”

Triumph curves Baron’s lips. He likes me begging.

Of course, he does.

“You want more, malyshka ?”

“Yes. Give me more.”

He pumps faster, his muscles flexing in a glorious display of manhood, like a beautiful stallion running. “I should fuck your ass tonight, after what you did. But you’re not ready for that, are you?”

I shake my head, but I can feel an orgasm starting, triggered by his threat. My inner thighs tremble, the coil of need winds tighter.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, though.” To prove it, he picks up his pace even more. The stallion galloping.

It feels perfect–his rhythm matching my need, the slide of his cock hitting every nerve ending inside my channel and out.

“My balls were blue all day remembering how fucking gorgeous you looked last night in the shower.”

My moan takes on a higher pitch. I feel beautiful. Desirable. Worshipped, even.

His attention intoxicates me. His cock is wrecking me. I feel him so deeply, I swear he will split me in two.

“Take it, malysh . Take it like a good girl,” he commands.

He knows it’s getting challenging for me. The pace, the intensity of his thrusts.

“Please,” I beg.

“You don’t come until I come.” His voice is stern. Forbidding.

It makes wings flap with excitement in my tummy.

“Please,” I repeat.

My begging seems to undo Baron. A muscle jumps in his cheek. He slams into me harder and harder, driving me upward with the force of his thrusts.

“Fuck,” he mutters. And then he unleashes a torrent of praise and dirty talk. Like now that he’s close to coming, he can’t hold it back. “Fuck you’re beautiful. You feel so good. So tight and wet and perfect. Are you gonna be my good girl, Lara?”

“Please,” is the only syllable that will come out of my mouth.

Baron roars and slams in deep. “Come, baby. Come for me now.” He licks the pad of his thumb and brings it between our bodies, rubbing my clit.

I go off like a geyser. My muscles spasm around the thick girth of his dick, milking it for every last drop of his cum. I cry out, still squeezing. My pelvis lifts. My feet stomp into the covers. My inner thighs tremor and quake.

“That’s it, baby.” Baron eases out when the last of my tremors goes quiet. “You’re so perfect.”

He flings the blankets back for us and settles behind me, wrapping one strong arm around my waist to pull me snugly against him. His big spoon into my little one. He kisses my head.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs again against my hair.

My eyes drift closed. I’ve never felt so satiated in my entire life. And it’s with the man I’ve sworn to hate.

Maybe my mom was right. Maybe good chemistry can really overcome a mountain of conflict.

The intimate connection forged through mind blowing sex becomes a bond. We haven’t worked out a single difference, and yet I feel safe. Held. Loved, even.

But that’s probably just the endorphins talking.