Page 24 of Stalked & Bred by the BRATVA (Bred by the BRATVA #6)

Sarah is curled up on the bed, the sheet wrapped around her, the coffee I brought earlier still half-full on the nightstand, the lunch I brought later half eaten on the top of the drawers. She’s soft in sleep, but I know she won’t rest long. She never does unless I’m here.

I shut the door quietly and head down the hall to where I know my brothers are. Maksim is in his study, Aleksei leaning against the wall, Roman in one of the chairs by the window. It’s rare to find them all in one place without some crisis dragging them together.

Roman glances up first. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Maksim doesn’t look up from the papers he’s signing. “With the girl.”

“Sarah.”

Aleksei’s mouth curves. “Ah. The maid you’ve been hovering over like a starving wolf.”

Roman chuckles low. “Not hovering. Hunting.”

I ignore the jabs, moving to the edge of Maksim’s desk. “I’m going to marry her.”

That gets their attention. Maksim’s pen stills. Aleksei straightens from the wall.

Roman snorts. “You’ve known her—what? A month?”

“Long enough to know she’s mine,” I say evenly. “Long enough to know I’m not letting her go. And longer than either you or Nikolai knew yours.”

Maksim studies me for a long moment, weighing whatever runs through his head. “She’s not from our world. You’re certain she can handle it?”

“She’s stronger than she looks,” I tell him. “She’s already survived more than most.” My jaw tightens. “Her brother won’t touch her again. I’ve made sure of that.”

A flicker of approval passes through Maksim’s expression before he nods once. “Then do it. Just be sure you’re ready to deal with the fallout.”

“There won’t be any fallout,” I say. “Only her wearing my name.”

Roman grins, shaking his head. “Madman.”

I leave them there, their voices fading as I head back upstairs. My pulse is steady but there’s an undercurrent, something tight and hot, that builds with every step toward her.

The small box is in my pocket. I’ve carried it for weeks, waiting for the right moment. Now I realise the right moment isn’t something you wait for. It’s something you make.

When I walk back into the room, Sarah is awake, sitting up in bed with the sheet pulled high over her chest. Her hair is messy, her cheeks flushed, and the sight hits me so hard my body responds instantly.

“What?” she asks, wary but curious.

I cross to her without answering, pull the box from my pocket, and open it. The ring catches the afternoon light, a simple band set with a diamond that will look obscene on her delicate hand.

Her eyes go wide. “Mikhail…”

I take her left hand and slide it on without ceremony. “You belong to me. Now everyone will know it.”

She stares at the ring, her lips parting like she’s about to protest. Instead, she blurts out, “I was supposed to get my period three days ago, but it hasn’t come.”

I pause, letting the words sink in. She’s nervous, I can see it in the way she bites her lip, in the quick dart of her eyes away from mine. She’s waiting for a reaction.

And what she gets is me shoving the sheet away and pushing her back into the mattress.

Her breath catches. “Mikhail—”

“If you’re pregnant,” I growl, bracing over her, “it’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened.” My voice drops, darker. “And if you’re not, we’ll fix that now.”

Her eyes widen, but I see the flicker of heat there, the way her thighs press together. She’s scared, but not of me.

I drag her underwear down and toss them aside, my hands spreading her knees apart. The diamond glints against her skin, and the sight makes my chest tighten with something fierce and possessive.

“Look at you,” I murmur, dragging my palm up her thigh. “Wearing my ring while I fill you again. That’s how it should be.”

She shivers, her fingers curling into the sheets. “Mikhail…”

I rush to pull my cock free from my jeans and push into her slowly at first, just enough to feel her stretch around me. Her lips part, her head tipping back. Then I press forward in a steady, relentless rhythm, watching her expression shift from anxious to dazed to desperate.

“Every time you come,” I tell her, “your body takes me deeper. Holds me longer. That’s what I want. You, so full of me you can’t think about anything else.”

Her breath stutters. “You’re insane.”

“For you,” I answer, bending to kiss her hard, swallowing her gasp as I push faster, deeper. Her nails scrape down my back, and I know she’s close.

I don’t stop when she comes, clenching around me, her legs tightening at my sides. I hold her there, keep moving, forcing another wave out of her until she’s shaking.

When I finally spill into her, I stay inside, grinding slow and deep like I can will it to take. My hand spreads over her stomach, warm and heavy. “Mine,” I say against her mouth. “From now until the day we die, you’re mine.”

She’s too wrecked to speak, just nods, her breathing uneven. I kiss her again, softer this time, and it’s almost worse than the roughness, it’s the promise in it.

When I pull back, I look at the ring again on her hand, still splayed over my chest. “You’ll get used to it,” I tell her. “Being mine in every way.”

She swallows hard but doesn’t argue. And that’s all I need.