Page 4 of Chosen By the BRATVA Grump

I can see why she has given it such a wide open space. It deserves it. Maybe even commands it.

“It feels like home,” I finally comment.

She doesn’t say anything for long enough that I turn to check on her, and she’s looking up at me with her mouth slightly open and her eyes bright. The room is warm and smells like turpentine and lemon.

“Okay,” she says, quietly. “You can’t do that.”

“Do what.”

“Come in here and say the most unexpected thing. I’m opening tomorrow. I have a very specific plan for tonight that involves a face mask and worrying.” She’s talking faster. “And you have been holding doors open for me and not saying so much as two words to me until this evening. And I have been extremely normal about it, I think we can all agree, but I’m running out of willpower.”

“Willpower for what?” I ask, genuinely confused.

She looks at me for a little longer, suspicion in the lines around her eyes, but she doesn’t respond.

I put my hand against her jaw and tilt her face up, taking my time doing it, so she has every opportunity to move away.

“Tell me,” I say, lowering my face so it is only a breath from hers.

Her eyelids flicker over those big brown eyes.

“Tell me, because I’ve wanted my mouth on you since I first held the door open for you at the cafe,” I say.

She is still silent, but her eyes slide to my mouth, then her tongue wets her bottom lip, and it’s game over for me.

My lips meet hers, and I pour every ounce of the last few weeks into it. Because she walked past me in the cafe, talking a mile a minute and looking so full of vibrant light that I’ve been addicted to her ever since.

All of my cousins have commented on it. Eduard thought I’d become attached to the cats after I had to look after them one evening when he first met Sammie. Jasper put it down to business. Dayan asked me straight up if I’m seeing someone, and Mechislav has a theory that I’m helping my sister purchase a property on this side of the river.

But this is the truth. This woman right here, with her mouth pressed to mine, has been all I can think about for weeks. Months.

Kimmie’s mouth opens for me, and I slide my tongue over her lips until she makes a small sound and twists her fingers in my shirt. My hands stroke down her back and over her ass until I have enough of her in my hands to lift her.

Her legs wrap around my waist, her tits press against my chest, and I walk blindly towards where I saw her desk. Her mouth is hot and eager as I sit her on the desk.

I get a hand under the hem of her dress and up the outside of her thigh. She moans a low, needy sound, her head dropping back.

“Tell me to stop,” I say against her throat.

“Absolutely not,” she says.

Kimmie

The cool, polished wood of my desk is a stark contrast against the sudden, fiery heat pooling between my thighs. Natan’s hands are enormous and calloused as he smooths his palm up my leg. His breath shuddering from him as he reaches the heat I can’t hide.

I’ve spent weeks admiring him from afar. This broad, quiet, intimidating man who holds the door open for me.

I feel entirely, brilliantly safe.

“Natan...” I whisper, my breath catching as his large hands gently part my knees wider.

He doesn’t hesitate. Kneeling between my legs, he gathers the pink-striped fabric of my dress, pushing it up until the chill of the gallery air hits my skin. His pale gray eyes look up at me, heavy-lidded and dark with a fierce, possessive intensity that sets my skin on fire.

“You are so beautiful, Kimmie,” he rumbles, the low vibration of his voice sinking straight to my core. “So full of light.” He shrugs off his jacket and throws it on the chair he kicked aside moments ago.

Before I can process the raw devotion in his words, his mouth settles against the inside of my thigh, leaving a hot, lingering kiss that makes my toes curl. My hands instinctively fly to his thick hair, my fingers tangling in the dark strands as he shifts closer.

My body moves on its own now, without any direction from me. Leaning back just a little.