“You think I’d be disappointed to be trapped with you? Baby, learning Ava was mine was the best news I’ve ever had. If anything, I think we should trap each other into this more.”
He rolls his hips inside me as he speaks, working his cock in until I’m relaxed and open for him.
“Oh yeah? How?” I reply.
“By putting another baby inside you, right fucking now.”
Fuck.
That low growl combined with the powerful thrust of his hips makes me needy as hell.
I didn’t expect Art to have a breeding kink. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, we’re both more feral for each other.
I grind my hips back against him to take him deeper, and he gripsmy ass for leverage.
Then Art slams his full length into me, making me sob with pleasure. I can feel every inch of that thick, beautiful cock stretching me out. I love it. I need it.
There’s no room for anything but thoughts of Art and his cock when he takes me like this.
My clit aches for attention, my hardened nipples rubbing against the bed with every thrust. I dip a hand between my thighs, unable to resist.
“Are you touching yourself while I fuck you, baby?”
“Y-yes,” I gasp, barely able to get a word out as the pleasure builds inside me.
“Because you want me to knock you up again?”
“Yes,” I cry, gripping the sheets as Art pounds me from behind.
“Good,” he groans, leaning forward over me, his chest pressed against my back, as he continues to slam his cock inside me.
“Take.” Thrust. “It.” Thrust. “Just.” Thrust. “Like.” Thrust. “That.”
He finishes inside me with a low grunt, and I melt with pleasure into the bedsheets, Art kissing my neck and shoulders before he finally rolls off me.
“So.” Art pulls me so I’m facing him. “Will you marry me, Nina?”
I bite my lip. He watches carefully, brushing over my mouth with his thumb. His eyes are so warm, so open right now, that they remind me of summer sunshine and the ocean.
“I’m not taking your last name, and neither is Ava,” I say slowly.
A grin spreads across his face.
“Fine. You did raise her for the first five years of her life. But everyone in the Bratva will call you Nina Petrova anyway.”
I raise a finger to my chin in mock thought. “And… I don’t want us to be exclusive.”
Art freezes. Blinks twice. Then his brows come together in utter confusion.
“What?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of an open marriage?”
I’m teasing him, but he is fully serious. There’s something addictive about provoking him until he is nothing but dark instinct.
“Do you need a reminder of what happens to men who touch you, Nenoka?”
I shudder at the reminder.
