Page 45 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

I got up immediately, headed downstairs, drove toward that place I'd never set foot in if it wasn't for Briony. When the car stopped below that old apartment building, the whole street was too quiet. Most windows upstairs were dark, only a sliver of warm light showing through the gap in Briony's curtains.

She was still awake. That fact made my blood pump faster.

After I knocked a few times lightly, her voice came from behind the door, cautious.

"Who is it?"

"It's me."

Silence for two seconds.

Then rustling sounds, the lock pulled open, just a crack. Briony's face appeared. She wore loose pajamas, blonde hair tied back carelessly, a few strands falling along her face.

"Varlam." She frowned, lowered her voice. "Do you know what time it is?"

"You greeting me with that?" I didn't answer, looked at the baseball bat in her hand.

She seemed to suddenly realize she was still holding the bat, quickly set it aside.

"Sorry." She opened the door completely. "We don't usually get visitors this late around here."

But I wasn't listening. I stared at her lips, that fire that'd been burning me instantly out of control. I stepped inside, shut the door behind me, cupped the back of her neck, kissed her. Her gasp got swallowed back down her throat.

The first second, she froze completely, hands pushing against my chest. Then she went soft, fingers curling to grip my shirt. Her body wanted me too. I pried her lips open with my tongue, tasted faint mint. She tilted her head back to take it, breathing more and more ragged, body instinctively pressing closer. I held her waist, lifted her off the ground.

"Rory's sleeping." She quickly lowered her voice, but her legs were already wrapped around my waist.

"Then you better keep quiet." I carried her toward the room she pointed to.

The bedroom door closed behind me. I laid her on the bed, pressed my body down again.

Her lips parted under mine, and I swallowed the small sound she made. My hands moved to the thin fabric of her pajamas, yanking it up and over her head. No bra underneath—just soft, full breasts spilling into my palms. I groaned against her mouth.

"Fuck, Briony."

She arched into my touch, but bit down on her lip to keep quiet. That restraint made everything hotter. I wanted to hear her. Needed to hear her lose control.

My mouth moved down her throat, teeth scraping over her collarbone. She gasped, fingers digging into my shoulders. I took one nipple into my mouth, sucked hard, and felt her whole body jerk beneath me.

"Varlam." My name came out strangled, barely a whisper.

"Louder," I growled against her skin.

She shook her head, pressed her hand over her mouth. I smiled—dark, hungry. If she wanted to play it that way, I'd make it impossible.

I stripped off my shirt, then worked her pajama bottoms down her thighs. She kicked them off, and I spread her legs wide, settling between them. She was already wet—soaked, actually—and the sight made my cock throb painfully against my zipper.

I ran two fingers through her folds, circling her clit, and her hips bucked. She threw an arm over her face, trying to muffle the sounds escaping her throat.

"Look at you," I murmured, pushing one finger inside. She clenched around me instantly, tight and hot. "So fucking perfect."

She whimpered, and I added a second finger, curling them just right. Her thighs trembled. I could feel how badly she wanted to cry out, how hard she was fighting it. That made me push deeper, faster, until her whole body was shaking.

"You're gonna come just from this, aren't you?"

She nodded frantically, hand still pressed over her mouth. I pulled my fingers out.

"Not yet."