Page 47 of Baby for the Bratva King

I lick my lips, tasting salt, pepper and caramel; notes that are famously his. I savor the taste as he thrusts into me, creating a medium-paced rhythm.

I meet him with my hips, fire burning in my core.

I shut my eyes and see the stars, now shining brighter than before as I take in more of the universe.

A feeling sets into the pit of my stomach, something much larger than life. I surrender to the feeling, losing consciousness as a result.

My eyelids flicker closed, and I concentrate on the feeling, on Felix’s consistent strokes. He hits gold each time, and I lose myself in the pleasure.

Tears well my eyes, my body aligned with the stars. I’m on the straight and narrow, and the end is in sight.

And what a satisfying end it is.

“Holy shit, Felix!” I scream, folding around him, fingernails scraping his back.

He grunts, spilling deep into my pussy. The universe explodes, and I feel like I’m creating a whole other world inside of this one—a sacred one for just us two.

The climax takes me from head to toe, zip-zagging through me like a lightning bolt.

I open my eyes when the orgasm fades, my vision distorted.

A tanned, tattooed figure moves over me, eventually settling beside me on the bed.

I have no concept of time or reality. I stare into Felix’s eyes and nothing else matters.

“I think we may have created a problem, Honeysuckle?”

“A problem?” I flip onto my side. “What do you mean?”

He sighs. “There’s no way I can keep my hands off you after that.”

11

FELIX

Sunlight streams through the curtains the following morning, waking me up.

I wink open an eye, breathing deeply. Saskia sleeps on her side, hands folded under her head. I lie on my back, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. The burgundy sheets rest over her breasts, cleavage on display. Her collarbone shimmers in the morning light, her sweat like glitter.

Such an incredible woman.

But what the fuck does that make me?

I rise from the bed, careful not to wake her. I head downstairs, into the kitchen to make myself a green juice, adding the leftover apple juice into the glass cup before blending.

The fruits reduce to liquid, sloshing up the sides of the glass as I blend.

I take small sips, perching on the island stool, staring into space.

Last night was eventful, and Saskia will be my undoing.

The more you step out into the light, the more karma starts calling your name.

A voluptuous woman strides across the living area wearing basically nothing.

I glance up from my textbook, watching her go, blonde hair flying everywhere.

“Such an asshole,” shouts the woman, reaching between her butt to stretch out the black lace that keeps riding up.