Page 23 of Sold to the Bratva (Sinful Mafia Daddies #2)

ISAAC

T he office door clicks shut as Mikhail slips inside, a folder tucked beneath his arm and a surprisingly serene look softening his features.

I glance up from the paperwork strewn across my desk and offer a terse nod.

He places the file on the edge of the desk before settling into the leather chair across from me.

“Shipments from the Jersey side arrived without a hitch. We’re officially six months incident-free, and every business is running like clockwork.”

I let out a slow breath. “Good.”

He studies me for a moment before a smirk tugs at his mouth. “You know, you look weird.”

I lift a brow. “Weird?” It’s not a word I’ve ever heard him use. “Weird how?”

“Weird, like you’re happy.”

I huff a quiet laugh and lean back. “You’ve never seen me happy?” I ask, though we both know exactly what he means.

“Not this kind of happy,” he says. “Not the kind that shows up when a man’s getting laid on the regular.”

“Watch it,” I say in mock warning. “That’s my wife you’re talking about in such a lewd way.”

I glance at the ring on my finger, then at the ultrasound photo pinned beneath the corner of my monitor.

It’s from our first appointment, a black-and-white printout, more blur than baby.

If the doctor hadn’t traced the outline, I’d never know what I was looking at.

Still, that smudge stole my heart the instant I saw it.

Mikhail steeples his fingers. “Married life suits you,” he says. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

“Neither did I,” I tell him honestly.

He lets the silence stretch for a beat, then cocks his head. “Are you nervous?”

“About the baby?”

He nods.

I hesitate.

“A little.”

Mikhail leans forward. “Talk to me.”

I close the file in front of me, all thoughts of operations and profit margins fading beneath the weight of the scariest thing I’ve ever faced.

Fatherhood.

“You remember how my father was,” I start.

Mikhail nods slowly. “I do.”

“He loved me, I guess, in his own way. But most of the time he was hard and cold. Everything revolved around the Bratva. Every decision and every choice served the family. Not the family that shared his blood, but the one he built. I always felt like I came last.”

Mikhail sits quietly, letting me unravel this knot.

“I don’t want to be like that. I want to be at the dinner table. I want to be in the stands at school plays, if our kid even wants to do shit like that.”

“You’ll be a great dad, Isaac. You’ve already proved you’re a good husband to Katya. I always figured you’d nail the family thing if someone gave you the chance. You just needed the right woman to remind you that you were worthy of it.”

I sit with that, and I know he’s right. I never pictured myself married, but then I met Katya and realized I couldn’t breathe without her. I never pictured fatherhood either, yet the second I saw that ultrasound, I knew I’d give this baby everything it deserves.

It scares the hell out of me how fast everything is happening, how this baby will be here in a handful of weeks. But Katya and I are in this together. Everything will fall into place.

Mikhail pushes to his feet and straightens his jacket. “Enjoy every second of it. You deserve this, Isaac. Don’t forget that.”

I nod and stand with him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “Thanks, Misha.”

“Always,” he says, clearing the emotion from his throat. “Once the baby comes, don’t stress about a thing. I’ll handle everything so you can take some time.”

After he leaves, I lean forward, my gaze fixed on the photo under the glass. Soon I’ll see that face in person. I’ll memorize each curve of their nose, mouth, and eyes, and I’ll answer every time it cries.

For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel afraid. I feel completely ready to meet my child.

Later that night I find Katya in the bathroom, steam curling in the air and the scent of peppermint thick around us.

She’s already soaking in the tub, eyes closed, head tipped against a rolled towel.

Candlelight flickers across her skin, highlighting the curve of her shoulders and the gentle swell of her belly.

I kneel beside her and press a kiss to her damp temple. Her eyes flutter open.

“Hi,” she whispers, a gentle smile forming.

“Hi,” I murmur back, brushing her hair behind her ear. I reach for the oil she keeps on the edge of the tub, warm a few drops between my palms, then glide my fingers over her shoulders.

She releases a long, grateful sigh, melting into my touch.

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

She hums in reply, her eyes fluttering closed again. “Tell me more.”

“You’re beautiful and brave and strong. You’re also a pain in the ass sometimes, but I’m learning to like that.”

She chuckles, her body relaxing under my hands.

I kneel lower, pressing a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, then lower still to kiss the top of her stomach. “I love you,” I murmur against her skin. “Both of you.”

She opens her eyes and looks at me, her expression soft and unguarded. Even at thirty-six weeks pregnant, she’s the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen. I know exactly what she’s thinking because I’m thinking it too.

I help her up and wrap her in a warm towel, then lift her from the bath and carry her to the bedroom. She gazes up at me as I lay her gently on the bed.

“You’re being sweet tonight,” she says, her voice heady.

“I’m always sweet,” I argue, feigning offense.

She raises a brow.

“Okay, okay.” I chuckle. “I’m sweet most of the time.”

She grins and pulls me toward her by the collar of my shirt. The kiss she gives me is deep and unrestrained, setting my blood on fire. Her tongue slips into my mouth, hot and searching. I’m hard just from her kiss, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m ever going to stop wanting her.

I push her gently back against the sheets and drop to my knees beside the bed, pulling her to the edge so she’s positioned exactly how I need her. She gasps when my hands part her thighs, but she doesn’t stop me.

“You don’t know how much I want you, wife,” I groan as I leave hot, wet kisses on the inside of her thigh. “I think about you every second of every day.”

“That’s a lot of thinking,” she says on a sigh.

“Mostly I think of all the ways I want to make you come,” I tell her, grazing over her labia to drive her wild before kissing the other thigh.

“Well, don’t let me be the one to get in the way of that,” she teases breathlessly. “It isn’t hard these days.”

“No,” I agree.

Her pregnancy has made her so sensitive to my touch. Each time her jaw goes slack and her eyes roll back, it electrifies me. When she lets out a string of words so filthy they even make me balk, the sight alone becomes my favorite pastime.

“So tonight, I could draw this out,” I muse, trailing kisses over her soft skin but avoiding the place she needs me most. “Or I could get right to it.”

She moans and tries to speak, but nothing intelligible comes out. She might be begging me to hurry, or maybe to drag it out. Either way, I spread her with my fingers and ease my tongue inside.

Her back bows toward me, a guttural sound ripping from her throat and shooting straight to my dick. She’s so goddamn wet and ready that a whisper of air would finish her, but I want her to feel every ounce of worship first.

I lick her slowly, teasingly, coaxing those low, desperate sounds I live for. In less than a minute her body begins to tense, but I’m determined to draw this out. I pull back and press a soft kiss to her mound.

“Why are you stopping?” she breathes.

I chuckle against her skin. “So impatient, my love,” I tease. “Trust me, it will all be worth it.”

When she eases back, I start again, still skirting her swollen clit. She needs me so badly she bucks against me, and every instinct screams to bury myself inside her. Not tonight. Tonight is all about her.

I devour her, savor every taste, letting my tongue flick in and out until she’s a shaking, writhing mess. Only then do I circle her clit with the tip of my tongue and slide two fingers inside her slick pussy.

Her release is instant. She shatters around me, cries of pleasure echoing through our bedroom.

Her hands tangle in my hair, holding tight while she rides the wave.

At some point she lets go, probably without even realizing it, then lifts her arms to rest above her head as her whole body melts into the mattress.

I stand and clean her gently, then scoop her up and ease her beneath the covers. She’s still naked, still dewy from the bath, yet so sated she’s half-asleep already.

I slip in next to her and wrap an arm around her waist. She turns to face me. Unable to stop myself, I press a kiss to her lips and rest my forehead against hers.

“I will protect you both with my life. You have my word.”

Her eyes flutter closed and she whispers, “I know.”