The Fixer (Chicago Bratva 2)

I roll a condom on and line myself up with her entrance. “I love you,” I say as I push in.

She gasps and tears up. “I love you, Max.” She grabs my hips and pulls me in deeper, wrapping her legs around my back.

I lean down and bite her ear as I slowly rock into her, trying to hold back from pounding like a fiend.

“I need you,” she weeps. “I want this. With you. Forever.”

I grin, thrusting in a little harder. “Good thing I’ve already got you locked down, then.”

A relieved laugh tumbles out of her. “Will you marry me again? I want to do it over. For real.”

My heart squeezes. Of course she wants that. My good girl who kept her innocence for the man she married. She was denied the white dress and flowers. The celebration. All she had was a funeral, a forced union, and dick of a husband who threw her over his shoulder and carried her off to the airport.

I slow my thrusts to lean down and take her lips tenderly, sipping from them. Exploring their softness. “Sasha, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

“Yes.” She laugh-cries.

“Let’s have a destination wedding,” I say. “We can fly all your friends to Bali or something.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” she exclaims. “I love that.”

I smile down at her, and she’s so radiant it hurts. My control slips. I brace my hands on either side of her head, bracing her shoulders as I thrust in deeper and harder.

She rocks her hips to meet mine like she’s eager for even more.

“Who’s going to make you scream when you come, sugar?”

“You are,” she gasps. “Maxim. My husband.”

“Blyat.” I lose my head, slamming into her with enough force to rock the bed against the wall.

She receives me—moaning louder and louder, urging me on until we both shout out our releases at the exact same moment.

I shower her with a hundred kisses, cover her beautiful face with them, her neck, her ears, her forehead. Then I drop all my weight on her to blanket her completely.

“Oof,” she laughs.

I roll us both to our sides, staying inside her.

“Maxim…” Sasha sounds serious again.

I stroke her hair back from her face and cradle her cheek. “What is it, caxapok?”

“What are you going to do with my mother?”

I immediately understand her anxiety. “I’ll take care of her, Sasha,” I promise. “I mean, I don’t plan to invite her here to live with us, but…”

“Right.” Sasha gives a relieved laugh.

“Maybe we should split your inheritance—give your mom half. That way she won’t be acting out of powerlessness and desperation. How do you feel about that?”

“Wow. Yes. Is that okay with you?”

“I didn’t marry you for your money. I’ve told you that. The question is whether it’s okay with you.”

“Yes. I love that.” She returns the shower of kisses, landing them on my face and tattooed chest. “You’re a good man, Maxim. Thank you for your forgiveness.”

I cradle her face in both hands. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, sugar. Believe that.”

Chapter 23

Sasha

I bask in the euphoria of being in Maxim’s arms for a long time.

Eventually, though, hunger and concern for my mom bring me back to reality.

“Does everyone out there hate me?” I snuggle closer to Maxim for protection against my thoughts. I realize I will be living with these guys. Lucy was kind, listening to my story and finally agreeing to bring me here to try to fix things, but I don’t know about the rest of them.

Maxim shakes his head. “No. They were all still watching out for you. Ravil knew right where you were, and tonight Pavel fished me out of the bar to advocate for you. He told me about your argument with your mother.”

“He did?” That surprises me, considering the indifference he showed at the time.

“If anyone was cruel to you, I’m sorry. It was only because they are protective of me. I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

I shake my head. “They were fine. I understand. I kind of want to hide in here forever, but… if I don’t get back to the hotel, my mom will think you killed me.” I offer a wry smile.

“We can text her.”

“I don’t have a phone.” I manage a lopsided grin as Maxim’s brows come down.

“Fuck. I’m sorry, Sasha. I never wanted you to suffer.”

“Plus, we should get her out of that dive of a hotel. If you don’t mind.” I cringe a little, hearing how I might sound like the spoiled brat again. Like I just came here because I was desperate.

But Maxim swings up off the bed. “My bride has spoken.”

My pulse quickens at his words, that rush of warmth filling my chest again.

“I want to put babies in you,” Maxim announces out of nowhere as he’s pulling on his clothing. “Badly.”