The Bratva's Heir (Underworld Kings)

“Mhm,” I say on a moan, as he pins me beneath his large, heavy frame and begins to kiss his way down the side of my jaw to my neck. “And I may—ooh.” I gasp. “Agree to that.”

My eyes flutter closed when he clamps his mouth on one bare nipple and suckles. I bite my lip to keep from gasping as he cups my ass so hard it’s painful. The sexy session over his knee the night before doesn’t help. I’m still raw, still aching from him, even as I crave more.

He swallows my gasp with a kiss that makes me whimper, dragging his already-hard cock between my legs. My wrists are trapped between his fingers as he glides himself in me.

I moan, the feel of him in me so perfect. He stretches me and fills me, and my mind goes blank. All I want is to feel, to revel in my skin against his, and as he thrusts in and out, he pulls nearly fully out of me, only to splinter me with jolts of ecstasy when he slams back in.

He lets my wrists go, and I automatically throw my arms around his thick, muscled shoulders. When he thrusts and dips his head to mine, I kiss his shoulder. With a wicked grin he can’t see, I sink my teeth into the muscle there, relishing the salty taste of him.

“Khristos!” he curses, stilling his thrusts. I whimper with the need for more. With surprising grace, he rolls over, taking me with him. When I’m well situated on his cock, he gives me one of his rare grins. “What a bad girl you are,” he says, before he gives me a teasing swat. I bite my lip, and he lifts me by the hips, then slams me back down on his cock. “Just for that, you’ll have to do the work.”

I grin back at him, moving my body in perfect time with his. This angle gives me a perfect view of him, and I pause in our lovemaking just long enough to run my fingers through his dark hair. “I love you, Constantine.”

His hands travel up my sides, then back down, as if he’s assuring himself that he’s really there. “And I love you, Clare.” His voice drops to a growl. “Now fuck me, woman.”

He rolls me onto my back again, impatient for me to ride him, pinning me beneath him and pounding into me until I think I’m going to shatter.

“Oh God,” I moan. “Constantine, fuck.” My eyes close as my body shudders beneath his. With another hard thrust, he comes inside me. I take all of him as my body surrenders fully. Bliss floods me from head to toe, until his forehead drops to mine and we’re panting together.

“There, now,” he says with a teasing smile. “You were saying something?”

I mumble something incoherent and jumbled.

“What was that?” He’s still grinning, only now his eyes are half-lidded. “You were saying?”

“Coffee. I want coffee.”

He pulls out of me with a chuckle and heads to the bathroom to get a washcloth. “Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”

I gaze out of the window at the mountains, the brilliant blue of the sky, and in the distance, the stately buildings that dot his native land in a breathtaking skyline of pale blues and pinks. I sigh. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Constantine

I take Clare to Karelia, the place I used to come with my mother as a small boy. Here the trees reach prehistoric proportions, growing atop boulders larger than a house, while sparkling waterfalls crash down into bottomless pools. It’s the loveliest part of Russia. After all the ugliness she endured in Desolation, I want to show Clare that the world is still beautiful and safe for her. As long as she’s with me.

Every time I pull her close, I rest my hand possessively over hers, touching the gold band on her finger, the shackle that binds us together forever. This is the one imprisonment I never wish to escape. She is mine and I am hers until we are nothing but atoms… and perhaps even beyond that.

I am filled with a deep contentment that I never thought possible for me.

Clare brings me peace, every minute, every hour.

Her warm, sweet scent and her low, soft voice have become the bedrock of my life. The things I live for now.

I thought we would return to Desolation once the madness of the gala had subsided. I released the emails, the recordings, and all the evidence I had on Valencia and Parsons. My lawyer had my conviction overturned in absentia, and my father brokered a deal with the new chief of police which would have allowed the Bratva to operate quite comfortably as we always had.

Instead, I find myself on the first holiday of my life, touring Clare through Moscow, St. Petersburg, Sochi, and now Karelia. My business concerns seem distant and dreamy. Only Clare and the here and now interest me.