Owned by the Mob Boss: A Dark Mafia Romance (Ivanovich Bratva) by Nicole Fox (fantasy books to read .txt) 📕

isn’t the wild letting-go, though. He moves slower as he unbuttons my pants. I don’t look at him, instead closing my eyes and focusing on the sensation.

“Erik,” I whisper, just like I always do when he starts to touch me. Half warning, half invitation.

He hugs me closer.

I kiss his tattooed hands, the same ones that nearly committed a cold-blooded quintuple homicide just hours ago. I pry them open and kiss the palms, tracing the lines with my lips. He tugs my pants down to around my knees. I hear the sound of his belt unbuckling.

His manhood brushes up against my inner thigh, slick with pre-come, getting close to my sex and then shifting down.

“Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough for one night? Stop teasing me.”

He kisses the back of my neck and then moves his hand through my hair. His fingers graze my scalp. I crane my neck like a cat, nuzzling against him. A warm feeling moves through me at the closeness, all the while my sex screams for his cock to move just an inch higher.

I reach back and clutch onto his face.

“Erik, please …”

He bites my neck softly as he slides his cock up between my thighs. It’s like the head of it kisses my center.

I coil my ankles around his leg, twisting myself so that it’s like we’re becoming one person, dissolving into each other.

I expect him to grab me and fuck me hard, but instead he slides up in small, prolonged movements, making me feel every inch of him. I let out a hollow gasp when he drives firmly against my sweet spot. Pressing my mouth into his arm, I let out a muffled scream.

He holds himself there, both of us fused, as his teeth make shallow imprints on my skin.

“Camille,” he whispers, breath so warm I can hardly stand it.

I love you.

The sex-fueled words rise in my mind. I beat them down before they become real.

What happened to reining this shit in? This evening has been a whirlwind and then some.

I put it down to that and bite onto his arm to stop myself from spontaneously crying out the three little words that will ruin everything.

I can’t take it anymore. It’s like standing on top of a diving board just waiting to jump.

But I have to leap—now.

I pull my hips away and then force myself backward so that I can feel the puncturing pleasure. He lets out a growl that spurs me on. I can’t stop, the friction grinding hotly between my legs.

He follows my pace and we fall into each other like we’ve been doing this dance forever. That’s one thing I don’t think I’ll ever understand about us: how quickly we have found our rhythm, especially since I was a virgin before. I’d always imagined my first steps into the world of sex would be nervous and tentative.

But now I feel unleashed.

He smooths his hands down my body and tightens them around my waist, throwing me against him. His growls fill the room, mixing with the pounding of our bodies. And yet somehow there is affection there, too, an intoxicating mix I can’t quite figure out.

“Fuck!” I cry, almost falling off the couch as cushions go flying.

I feel myself getting tight around him, squeezing every inch of his length. Everything becomes background noise except for the pulsating of his cock. His hands must be leaving imprints in my skin, but I don’t care.

Let him fucking paint me red if he wants.

“F-f-f …”

My breath becomes ragged.

My throat catches.

As the orgasm hits me I let out a wordless, almost soundless cry. I’m drowning in euphoria.

I close my eyes and see red.

The whole couch feels like it’s shaking.

Damn, the whole room—the whole world—feels like it’s about to explode.

And then it does.

For ten long, endless heartbeats, I’m coming like a thunderbolt.

Vaguely, distantly, I feel Erik coming, too. He roars wordlessly, his teeth snagging my lip.

Then, slowly, I come swooping back down to earth like a leaf on the wind. I coil my legs tighter around his ankles and collapse against him. His lips find mine, panting and half open.

I open my eyes again and it’s like reality gets turned back on. I clutch onto his face.

“Sleep with me tonight,” he whispers.

“Didn’t we just do that?”

He’s smiling openly now, totally not the twitching-smile Erik I’ve come to know.

“You know what I mean,” he says.

“Okay,” I reply. “But I’ve gotta warn you, I’m one hell of a cover thief.”

I wake up with sunlight on my face, holding onto Erik like a life raft.

For a few long moments, I’m happier than I’ve been in weeks. Then the sickness rises in my belly.

I barely have time to get to the bathroom before I redecorate Erik’s fancy four-poster bed.

Just as I’m wiping my mouth, Erik kneels down behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. He looks at me with heavy meaning in his eyes.

“Do you think …”

He trails off.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, smoothing a hand over my belly.

“We need to get a test,” he mutters.

I try for a smile, but nerves run through me like buzzing insects. Growing up, Rob had a phrase he’d use whenever he got himself into a messed-up situation, stolen from some movie.

This shit just got real.

It comes to mind now.

15

Erik

I pace up and down in front of the bathroom, opening and closing my fists, my mind overflowing with images of my son, with his first words, with training him to be the man my father never took the time to make me.

I will be like Anatoly, I decide.

I will teach him what it takes to stay calm under pressure. I will show him what is required of a man. I will make him tough, as a Bratva man should be. I will show him how to survive in a world that is all too eager to tear a man down.

I will …

I stop myself, realizing I am allowing fantasy to overcome reality.

We have not even gotten the tests results back