Page 24 of Tangled Souls (Bratva Souls Duet #2)

KIRILL

Oaklynn declaring that she’s hiring the next receptionist, which I’m more than fine with, has me holding up my hands in surrender. Fuck, she’s sexy. Like an angel swooping in from the heavens in full battle regalia to turn the tides and demand surrender.

From our enemies.

From us.

“You can do whatever you want, Solnishko ,” I tell her honestly, “you’re the queen.”

The smile of triumph on our woman’s face is one for the record books. With Betty handled, we’re one minor problem down. But that doesn’t mean we’re done. Far from it.

Now we need to deal with Mikhail. His time is coming though; I can feel it.

I stand up slowly, my eyes fixed on our woman. My steps are measured as I stalk toward her. Even with the show she just put on and how badass she was, her cheeks pink and her beautiful brown eyes widen as I move closer to her.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, Oaklynn?” My voice is a low rumble which has her shivering.

“You just like my outfit,” she teases as she motions toward her own body.

“Can’t say it hurts,” I murmur. “You look hot as fuck today, but it’s not why I love you.”

“Oh?” She challenges me with a tilt of her head and an arch of her eyebrow.

“You’re so damn strong and fierce. Over the last few days, even though shit was raining down on us, I’ve watched you become the queen I knew you’d be from the moment I saw you in White Stone.

” When I’m close enough, I cup her face in my hands.

“The way you claimed us with the same possessive need that we have for you is something I’ll never forget. ”

I can feel the guys move closer to us, being pulled toward her because denying the pull is painful. Physically. Mentally. It’s just impossible.

“How are you feeling?”

She blinks up at me with my question and her eyebrows pull together slightly. “I’m,” she pauses for a moment as if really assessing her body and how she’s feeling, “good.”

When I smile at her, I know it must look sinful because of the way her eyes dilate and her lips part as she starts to pant. The need pumping through me is reflected back to me and written all over her face.

My hand reaches down to allow my fingers to glide along the hem of her skirt. With my free hand, I run a fingertip along the lacy edge of the top she’s wearing.

“Who let you out of the house in this outfit?” Maxim asks as he steps closer to her side, an edge to his voice along with a lot of fucking desire.

She looks at him from underneath her lashes. “I let me.” The way she squares her shoulders pushes her tits up deliciously. “I don’t need anyone’s permission.”

Maxim chuckles, the dark sound wrapping around us. He steps closer at the same time Baker does, the two of them caging her in as Huck presses against her back.

“I just need to threaten someone to turn you on? Good to know,” she sasses.

“A lot of things turn me on.” I lean down and run my nose along her jawline before nipping at her ear.

I run the tips of my fingers up and down her exposed arms. “Pretty much all you have to do is breathe and I’m hard,” I husk.

“I’m man enough to admit the way you just claimed us, the way you stomped in here like a vengeful goddess,” I pause and hold her gaze to ensure she sees, “it makes me melt for you. Only for you.”

When my fingers come across the small and almost unnoticeable bump on her upper arm, I pause. Her implant. I hate her fucking implant.

Huck and Maxim give me a little room as I move our woman closer to my desk. My movements are fluid as I grab her knife, the one she left on her desk, and slice the skin right underneath her implant.

Oaklynn’s eyes go wide as she gasps. She looks down at her arm, her mouth opening and closing without saying anything. I don’t look away as I put pressure around her implant and remove it.

“I hated that fucking implant,” I admit with a growl.

“You can’t just remove my implant, Kirill,” she snaps.

I drop it on the ground and step on it; the action satisfying something primal and damn close to feral inside of me. Closing the distance between us, I don’t give a single fuck if some of her blood is on my fingers as I grip her chin and hold her in place. “I can and I fucking did, Solnishko .”

When she swallows hard, I watch the motion intently. Her eyes search mine and I’m not sure what she’s looking for. Whatever she sees—whether it’s determination, love, or just fucking need—has her shoulders relaxing.

“Now we’re all going to take turns filling your pretty cunt with our cum,” I grit out through my teeth.

My cock is weeping pre-cum as I turn our woman and push her down until her tits are pressed to my desk.

I lean over her as I pull her skirt up her legs and bunch it up over her hips.

The site of her lace panties already darker with her arousal has me clenching my teeth even harder to try to keep hold of my control.

It feels like I’m losing the battle.

I rip her panties from her body, the sound of it not nearly satisfying enough. My hands shake as I undo my belt and pants. The moment my cock is free, I don’t wait, I don’t give her a moment to brace.

With a hard thrust, I bury myself balls deep inside of our wife’s sweet pussy. She’s so warm and wet, telling me exactly what her little performance did to her. She loved it. She relished it.

Our avenging angel. With blood-soaked wings which aren’t safe for flight but are perfect for battle.

My movements are fast and hard because we both need to chase the high that we only find in each other. It’s a calling that can’t be ignored. We are hers. She is ours.

“We’re going to breed you, Oaklynn, until you’re round with our child. Until you’re tied to us in every way. You’ll never escape,” I hiss the words against the shell of her ear as I drive into her over and over again.

It’s too much and not fucking enough.

Her fingers curl around the edge of the desk and she uses it as leverage to push back against me. She meets every thrust, urging me on and welcoming me home.

The feeling of being inside of her, of our pleasure climbing, is pure euphoria. I crave it like a drug. Addicting. She’s pure fucking need, an addiction I never want to shake.

“Kirill,” she whines.

It gives me pause because I never want to truly hurt her and it was only days ago that Mikhail cornered her, but I don’t hear pain in her panting breaths or her little moans. Only pleasure. Only bliss. Only begging desire.

I fuck her harder and faster, standing to my full height and gripping her hips so hard that my knuckles turn white. The sound of our slapping flesh fills my office, a melody which burrows deep under my skin to never be forgotten.

This is the moment. We can’t come back from it, but we don’t want to.

She’s ours.

A drop of blood hits my desk and I can’t look away.

I release one of her hips to slide a finger up her arm collecting a trickle of her blood.

She looks over her shoulder at me, her eyes wide and pleading.

When I suck that finger into my mouth, tasting her, the groan that comes out of me is all beast without a hint of humanity.

My hips move faster and punch forward harder.

After I collect the last of the blood on her arm, I reach underneath her to play with her clit. Her eyes widen, the implication clear. We are the same. We are joined.

Now.

Forever.

In love.

In blood.

In life.

When I pinch her clit, she shatters underneath me. The walls of her pussy ripple around me and pull me under with her. Every jet of cum filling her is a promise which forces our future to echo around us.

Emptying myself inside of her as her body begs for me brings a smile to my face. It might not be today, I know that, but it will be soon. She already fills our lives with light and laughter. Now she’ll fill our lives with a kind of innocent hope only children can bring.

When I cover her back with mine and grip her chin to hold her in place, I smear her arousal and blood across her skin. I kiss her with everything in me and hope she can feel the depth of my love, of my obsession and possession.

“I love you, Oaklynn,” I murmur against her lips.

Her lips curl into a smile against my own and her whisper feels like so much more, “I love you, Kirill.”

Pulling out of her, my eyes take in the way my cum starts to slip from her pink puffy pussy. It’s a beautiful sight.

And this is only the beginning.

I step aside and Huck is there waiting. His fingers run through her hair, soothing her, preparing her. Their eyes meet and he slips inside of her gently.

The only thing for me to do is sit and watch our woman as the memory burns itself into my soul. The foundation is already built, strong and without cracks. Today we build on it and never stop, never tire.

Even though our woman is bent over my desk, her ass up and inviting, Huck’s movements are methodical. He doesn’t lose control. He doesn’t fuck her until she can’t breathe. It’s as if he holds her hand and leads her slowly to the edge where they teeter together.

“More,” she begs as she pushes back against him, trying to taunt him into moving faster and fucking her harder.

He doesn’t waver and remains steady.

But when they fall over the edge? It’s explosive just the same. I watch the pleasure wash over her face, unable to look away.

He pushes himself so deep inside of her walls as his head tips back and he growls through his release. Knowing the way her walls are squeezing him, milking him, I can almost feel them on my own length.

The kiss they share is sweet, full of promises like the eye of a storm.

Huck is slow to pull away from her and we all take a moment to see the evidence of the claim, half done and half wanting. Close. But not quite.

Baker steps up next and I glance at my brother to find shame and guilt written all over his face. He hasn’t forgiven himself. I’m not sure he ever truly will.

But it’s not my problem to solve. Not this time.

Baker’s large hands roam over our woman’s body as if he’s checking to make sure she’s whole. His voice is low and strained, like holding himself costs him something that can’t be named. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, but incomplete,” Oaklynn rasps.

When Baker claims her, there’s a playfulness in the air only he can give her. He nips at her exposed skin to make her squirm. He pulls out glimmers of laughter in her moans.

He builds her up to leave her hanging, again and again. Until she pleads. Her begging words wrapped up in sweetness and light, have him giving in.

As he finally pushes them over the edge together, there is hope in his eyes as he looks down at her and the smile on her face is full of forever. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and the knowledge of how lucky I am, how lucky we are, settles around me.

After Baker gently pulls free of her body, Oaklynn’s eyes search for Maxim. He’s on the fringes like he’s scared. Her eyebrows pull together, but she doesn’t move.

“Maxim,” she calls to him, “you don’t want to fill me with your cum? You don’t want to help me grow our family?”

“I would love nothing more,” his words are soft, but filled with sorrow. “I just don’t deserve to.”

“Let it go,” she demands, her brown eyes alight and pleading. “You’re not to blame and I’m good. I’m healing. There is no resentment in my heart for you, only love.”

His steps are tentative as if he doesn’t want to give in but has no other choice. It’s the pull. The same one that tugs at my own soul.

Undeniable.

Inevitable.

He never stood a chance. Just like the rest of us.

Maxim’s claiming of our wife is different. It’s fraught with fear at first, but when that falls away it’s all teeth and claws.

The primal way Maxim fucks our woman is brutal, but not without love. It is as if he exorcises his demons, anointing himself with her love and her arousal.

But something clicks into place when he grunts out his release as Oaklynn trembles on my desk.

What comes of today doesn’t matter beyond the fact that something has shifted. We are no longer thinking of Mikhail as a specter. His demise is just around the corner, and we can feel it.

And when it happens, we’ll already be looking toward all the tomorrows our tangled souls will enjoy.