The Bratva's Captive (Wicked Doms 3) - Page 46

"Angel," I whisper. It's one of the few words that means the same in both Russian and English, universal in its meaning. My hands frame her face while I kiss her back, deep and tender, silent thanksgiving to the woman who came to me. Who brought me comfort and consolation so pure in its simplicity I thought it'd been sent from above.

I push myself up when I kiss her, guiding her body down beside me so I can lay her down. I gently place her atop the mound of pillows as I silently thank her for what she's done for me. As I beg pardon for what I've done to her.

How can I ever make up for what I've done?

She deserves my adoration, not imprisonment. I don't know where this leaves us. What move I'll make next. But I can no longer hold this woman my prisoner.

I pull my mouth off hers long enough to whisper a quiet, reverent, "Olena. Eto byl ty. Ty prishel ko mne."

It was you. You came to me.

"Mne zhal'."

I'm sorry.

And her only response, her voice tremulous in the stark quiet of the cabin, "You're alive. I can't believe it was you."

She's crying while I kiss her again, salty tears mingling between us, pinned beneath me as I silently say all that I want to. Thanking her.

Of all the people I could have taken, I had to take the angel my prisoner. Maybe it was a twist of cruel fate. I shake my head as I run my fingers through her long, fragrant, wavy hair.

"I can't believe I didn't know," I tell her. "I thought it was in my head. I never imagined someone would actually risk such a thing and come to me."

I no longer see her the way I did before. The daughter of my enemy. The woman I had to break to get back at Yuri. No.

But I can't think as our bodies silently meld together as one. As I kiss her, our lips united, and I hold her to me. So soft, so sweet, so fragile and feminine. My cock grows hard, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she opens her legs and welcomes me, then her gentle words in my ear shock me.

"You're alive," she repeats, her voice tremulous and thankful. "What we've done... who we are... let's lay it to rest and start over. Right here. Right now."

I don't know how or why I've earned this second chance from her. Why she doesn't hate me. But I can't resist the invitation when she makes it. I have to show her I'm not just a brutal captor. To show her I'm only human.

She places her hand on my back, drawing me closer.

I trace my hands over the scars on her body. “If I ever find the person who did this to you…”

“He’s dead.”

“I’d kill him all over again.”

That makes her laugh out loud, the sound so pretty it’s almost lyrical. Gently, I touch the puckered skin, lower my mouth, and kiss her. “I was a bastard for criticizing your scars,” I tell her. “Every inch of you is beautiful. Every inch of you is heaven-sent. And if anyone ever raises a hand to you again, in any way, they answer to me.” I brush my lips along her skin, kissing her, joining my pain with hers.

My revenge is no longer just personal. Now, every motherfucker needs to know Olena is mine. That I will kill them if they so much as breathe on her.

I run my hand gently down her side, stroking my fingers along the silky skin, and when I reach her hip, she parts her knees. We've shared intimacy and pain in so many ways, it seems the natural course of action, but how could she—

"Sweet girl," I whisper in her ear. "Are you sure?"

Nodding, she wraps her arms around my neck. "Please."

I pull my mouth off hers but continue kissing every inch of her exquisite body. The tops of her shoulders. The curves of her breasts. The hardened peaks of her nipples. Her collarbone and neck, the soft, sweet spot below her breasts. I kiss her until I get to her belly, then run my lips along the curves of her lower abdomen. I drink in the sounds of her groans like a man dying of thirst. I will grant her utter bliss. I can't erase the past, but this... this I can do.

I lift her body to me, not wanting an inch of space between us. Needing to speak words our mouths can't utter, our bodies joined in a dance of silent surrender. Her fingers rake through my hair, anchoring herself to me, as I kiss my way down her sweet belly.

"So beautiful, angel," I say in a hoarse whisper. "So perfect."

I lift her onto my hardened length against her belly. "I want to seal this moment," I groan, wanting to make sweet love to her until her mouth parts in wonder and her body chases ecstasy.

Tags: Jane Henry Wicked Doms Erotic
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