Broken Bride (Belaya Bratva 2)

What mattered was this moment, this unbelievably special moment that I would carry in my heart forever.

Together we fell onto the bed and he covered my body, gently pulling my arms over my head. “I’m going to fuck you,” Gavril said as his lips trailed down my neck and onto my collarbone. “Until there is no other trace of any other fucker on your skin.”

There hadn’t been from the day that he kidnapped me, but his words still brought tears to my eyes as I understood his meaning.

He was trying to erase Jon from me, from my future. Nothing could take him from my past, but he could be replaced. The damage he had inflicted on me would always be there.

His memory, though, didn’t have to be.

I arched against his roaming hand as he drifted it down my body, touching every inch of my flesh just briefly but enough for me to feel it. With every touch, I replaced my thoughts with those of Gavril in this moment, of how he was making me feel and how much I wanted him.

My husband. My lover. The father of my child.

That was what mattered. Gavril mattered.

When his mouth captured mine, I tried to show him in my kiss what he was doing me, how he was replacing all the fears, all the bad thoughts I had about sex and about men in general and filling them with hope, hope for a future between us.

He had given me confidence by letting me take control earlier, as if he knew that I needed to feel like Jon hadn’t ruined me all over again.

And now I was letting him control me, showing him I wasn’t afraid of him or what he could do to me.

Gavril’s kiss turned feral and I felt his cock probing my entrance, seeking the same acceptance he had given me earlier.

Breaking his kiss, I wrapped my legs around his waist, urging him closer. “Do it,” I whispered against his lips. “Fuck me, Gavril.” I wanted him to lose control like I had, to do whatever he needed to forget his own pain and reality so that he could start to heal as well. “Fuck me hard.”

“Naomi.” My name came as a whispered plea before he shoved into me, filling me to my core. I screamed his name as he shocked my body with an intense orgasm in that one movement, my skin ultra-sensitive to what he was doing and what we had been doing previously. God, he filled me like no other with his massive length, my body clamping around him and holding him there just so that I could feel him.

Gavril. My husband.

Opening my eyes, I met his, seeing the intensity burning there. I didn’t know if he wanted to claim me or erase the past, but I was up for either because at the end of the day, it was going to be his name on my lips.

I had no words for him either, but I knew he could see the emotion welling up in my own gaze, feel the way that my body reacted to his. “Gavril,” I whispered, angling my hips toward him. “Give it to me.” His cock, his pain, his emotions; I wanted it all. I wanted to see the pakhan, my husband, give me everything he could muster.

His jaw clenched. “Are you sure you can take it?”

“Yes,” I groaned. “Give it to me.” He couldn’t hurt me. Gavril would never hurt me, not physically anyway.

Emotionally? I wasn’t so sure he hadn’t already and that it wasn’t going to be the last time either, but right now, that didn’t matter to me. I wanted him to find the same freeing release I had found earlier, using him for my own personal selfish reasons.

I wanted to give the same option to Gavril, to give him an outlet for all the pain that Katya had caused him.

The hold on my wrists tightened as he pulled out and drove into me again, my entire body shaking with the friction of his body against mine. I couldn’t get enough of Gavril. “Harder,” I whispered, tightening my legs around him. “Fuck me harder!”

He growled, and something feral broke across his face as he drove into me repeatedly until I was barely hanging on for dear life, screaming out his name as he took me over the edge with him.

“You. Are. Mine,” he growled, his body taut, his neck corded with muscle.

“I’m yours,” I breathed, meeting his gaze. “I’m yours.”

No matter what I attempted to do, how I attempted to push him away, I couldn’t. Gavril was always going to be part of my life, however long that was meant to be, and I would love him regardless.

Even if I walked away with a broken heart in the end.

Gavril let go with a roar, pumping into me until there was nothing left except our heavy breathing. My body felt boneless, my heart racing, and when Gavril rolled off me and to the spot next to me, I didn’t know what to say.

I had thought that our time earlier in the study had been on a different level, but this? This was him reclaiming my body.

When he reached for me, I let him, snuggling in his arms. “It’s the middle of the day,” I reminded him.

“Who gives a fuck?” Gavril growled in my ear, his hand moving to cup my stomach. “I’ve worn you out. Get some rest, Naomi.”

I giggled because I couldn’t help it. “I think I had a hand in it as well.”

“A fucking good one,” he said, his fingers idly caressing my skin right where I imagined our child was residing. “Sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”

My breath caught. What did this mean for us? Was he saying that because he truly meant to keep me at his side, or was he just talking about the present?

It mattered to me. I didn’t want to lose this between us, whatever we had found. I didn’t want for us to go back into the black abyss that seemed to consume us, to pull us apart.

I wanted this thing to last, to truly build a future that both of us could be proud of.

What if we were just too broken to do so? We had shared some heavy stuff today, baring our souls of what we feared the most, but what if it wasn’t enough?

I closed my eyes as he instructed, feeling suddenly tired. These days I felt more exhausted than usual anyway, and middle-of-the-day naps weren’t an anomaly for me.

But as I felt my body start to drift off, one thing nagged at the back of my mind.

I hadn’t told Gavril what happened after Jon had attacked me, after I ran and tried to disappear.

What would he say once he found out that truth?