Midnight Lies (Tasarov Bratva 2)

But that will come a little later. Unlike my greedy little wife, I have enough restraint to be patient. To see this little lesson all the way through.

She has barely recovered when I add a third finger and swirl my thumb over her clit.

“Adrik,” she moans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sorry because you want me to stop?” I reach deep into her and twist.

She shakes her head. “No! No, please. Don’t stop.”

“Because I could, you know,” I remind her. “I could stop whenever I wanted to. You’re pinned to the bed. What would you do about it?”

Her eyes are heavy, drunk on satisfaction and a need she just can’t quench unless I let her. “Please let me touch you.”

I smile and shake my head. “Not until you can tell me why you made a mistake. Tell me why you should have told me about the baby.”

“Because the baby is yours, too!” she says, crying out as I curl my fingers, stroking her. She’s so wet. So needy. It’s making it hard for me to focus.

“Yes. What else?”

I want her to get this right. I want her to answer so I can bury myself inside of her. For a second this afternoon, I didn’t know if I’d get another chance to do that. When I was stuck in the furnace on the other side of the metal door, throwing my weight against it—for a second, I didn’t think I’d make it out.

And I thought of Emery, and it freed me.

Now, she is the one stuck behind a metaphorical door. Before I put my cock inside of her again, I need Emery to understand what this thing between us is. I need her to claim her role and understand mine.

Only then can she truly be free.

She contorts as another wave begins to crest inside of her. She twists to the side and buries her face against her arm, moaning as I work her into a fervor.

“Come on, kiska,” I encourage. “Come for me. Come.”

That’s all it takes. Emery cries out with another orgasm. Her body goes perfectly still for a few seconds, every muscle in her strained and tight and trembling.

Then, all at once, she releases. Her lungs unhitch, her body relaxes, and she sags into the bed. “Holy fuck,” she sighs. “I… I’ve never felt like that. It was…”

“Answer me,” I whisper one last time.

Emery looks up at me. Her green eyes are hazy, her breath husky. “Because I’m yours. Is that it? Is that what you want to hear?”

I don’t answer. She tries to free her hands, but I still refuse to let go. Confusion creases her forehead. “I got it, didn’t I? Let me go.”

“Close,” I say, bending low to kiss across her collarbone to her cleavage. “But not quite.”

“I’m yours,” she repeats, growing more frustrated. “I’m yours, Adrik. And you’re mine. That’s it! That’s why I should have told you. I know that’s the answer.”

I grab the thin material of her shirt and pull. The V-neck shirt rips right at the collar, exposing her breasts.

“How did you ever think you could hide anything from me?” I ponder as I suck her nipple into my mouth.

She hisses at the sensation. “Adrik, you’re killing me,” she moans, arching her body into my mouth to give me more of her. “Tell me what to say, and I’ll say it. Whatever you want. Just… Let me touch you.”

“You’re getting warmer.”

“I’ll listen to you!” she practically screams. “I’ll obey! I’ll do whatever you want. Just—oh, please, God, fuck me already.”

Maybe I really am a monster. Because the more frustrated Emery grows, the more I want to deny her. She’s spinning herself into a tight knot, and I love knowing I’m the only one who can slice through it.

With my mouth on her breast, I grab the top of her pajama shorts and yank them down. Emery lifts her hips to help me, and together, we slide the material down her legs. She kicks them off and then she’s bare and there for the taking.

I finish the final tear of her shirt, splitting it down the center until she is exposed to me. Then I reach into my own pants and free my painful erection.

I see the glimmer in her eyes. Emery thinks I’m caving. She thinks I’m giving in.

But she has no idea how far I’m willing to go.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you what you want,” I say, stroking my length, hissing at the friction. “Not until I know you understand.”

She glares at me. “What are you going to do, get yourself off?”

I nod. “If I have to. I’ll finish right here on top of you.”

“Adrik,” she pleads, “don’t do this to me.”

“I don’t want to, moya zhena. I really don’t. But hard lessons must be taught. No matter how long it takes.” I stroke myself slowly the whole time I’m talking. It’s a poor substitute for what I really want—her orgasming pussy clamped down on my cock, milking me for all I’ve got—but some things must take precedence.

She whimpers. “I’m yours. Fuck me, I’m yours.”

“You are mine,” I tell her. “This baby is mine. Isabella is mine. You are mine. The Bratva is mine. You give me everything, and I keep you safe. That’s the deal we made. That’s the vow I swore.”

Tears gather in Emery’s eyes. She nods. “You take good care of us.”

Now, she finally gets it.

I settle between her legs, my aching erection positioned at her center. “And don’t fucking forget it.”

Before she can say anything else, I slide into her to the hilt.

Emery wraps her arms around me, her nails clawing at my back as we find a rhythm together. Two, three, four shallow thrusts and I already want to explode, but I hold off because the sight and sound of her writhing beneath me is too fucking delicious to give up that quickly.

“You’re so wet for me,” I murmur. “So hot and so tight.”

All it takes is a few strokes to wipe the smile off of Emery’s face. I have to grit my teeth, biting back the release I’ve been in desperate need of since she confessed she was pregnant.

But not until she gets off one more time.

“Come for me,” I command, increasing my pace. “Be a good girl and come.”

Emery squeezes her eyes closed tightly. Her breath reaches a crescendo and stills. I feel her clamp around my length.

And then she’s gone.

She cries out as the orgasm takes her. I fall, too, and empty spurt after spurt inside of her. Both of us ride it out, gasping and biting and clinging to each other with a wild desperation.

When it’s over, we’re both quiet. That’s fine. There’s nothing important left to say.