The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

The door to the bathroom opens, and when he emerges, all steamy and sexy, my need for him stirs low in my belly. I let my eyes roam over his strong, powerful body. I appreciate the breadth of his shoulders, and bulge of his muscles, the dangerous tattoos that grace his damp skin. He’s cleaned up his beard, but it’s still dark and heavy, and I can smell the masculine scent of his aftershave. Instead of making my belly flip, a deep thrum of need hits me low in the belly. I swallow hard.

“Well, hello there, handsome,” I murmur appreciatively. It isn’t until he steps closer to me that I notice he looks tired. Tired and weary. He’s been carrying the weight of his decision on his shoulders. Responsibility to his men… to me… to our unborn child.

“Handsome?” he says playfully, his lips twitching. “Are you feeling better?”

I smile shyly. “Mmmm.” Though my stomach growls in hunger, there’s another appetite I want to sate. “Come over here.” I pat the bed and wiggle my eyes but he doesn’t come closer. Folding his arms on his chest, he gives me a stern look, though his eyes twinkle a bit.

“I may have indulged you, but in no way does that give you permission to tell me what to do, Sadie.”

“Sir,” I say, bowing my head, a desperate longing clawing in my chest. “Please?”

I want him to hold me. I need him to touch me. He can’t stand across from me looking like sex personified with those muscles and tattoos and leave me over here for another day of ginger tea and salty crackers.

I swallow a lump in my throat. Though he’s been with me, I realize I’ve missed him.

When he walks toward me, the towel still slung about his waist, anticipation grows in my belly. We’ve made love and he’s brought me to pleasure so many times, my body reacts of its own accord. I know what I want, and what I want is him. Standing over me, he cups my jaw between his large, warm hands, and lifts my face to his. I look up at him. He likes what he sees when my eyes meet his, and he smiles.

“It’s true what they say about a glow,” he says. “You always were beautiful, love. Now, you’re exquisite. I could feast my eyes on you all day and never hunger for anything else.”

I try to look away, bashful at the bold compliment, but he holds my gaze. “No, Sadie,” he says. “Accept what I say. Know that it’s true. You are my wife and the woman who bears my child. I love you.”

My heart swells when he leans down and captures my lips with his. I close my eyes and sigh. I’ve missed this. Oh, how I’ve missed this. I lose myself to the kiss, a warm tingle of sensation washing over me as he lowers me to the bed and cages me in with his large, powerful body. My wrists are pinned to my side, my knees spread apart by his. He never allowed me to wear clothes to bed, but the past few weeks he’s allowed me to wear a thin nightie for comfort. It takes only seconds for him to yank it off me and bare me to him.

I’m lost to feeling. Tender lips and prickly whiskers, gentle strokes and firm fingers. I moan when he parts my legs and glides his fingers between my thighs.

“I’ve missed this pussy,” he growls in my ear, groaning when he finds me slick and swollen. “I need to feel you. Taste you. Eat you.”

I nod eagerly and part my legs further, earning me a chuckle and playful slap to the thigh. The sharp smack reminds me he hasn’t spanked me since that day in the library.

I miss it. I don’t understand why or how, but I do. When he puts me over his lap, my body hums with need for him. I like that when he takes control, it clears my mind and focuses me on the present.

And hell, his stern dominance turns me on.

“Yes,” I groan, losing all my inhibition, I’m so desperate to feel him again. “Take me over your knee, sir. Use me.”

“No, Sadie,” he growls. “I will not risk your health or the health of the baby.”

“Kazimir,” I whine. “Don’t be silly. A little spanking never hurt a pregnant woman.”

Still caging me beneath him, he lifts himself up and stares at me. “You know this how? And I can’t believe you’re asking me to punish you.”

I bite my lip. “I can’t believe it either,” I whisper. “But actually, that isn’t true. I don’t want you to punish me, per se, I just think a little… kinky…” my voice trails off while I flush furiously.

“I honestly… I can’t… well, if you’d just… oh, forget it,” I finally whisper. I’m losing myself to sensation. I’m desperate to feel the pleasure sweep through me that only he can grant.