Page 48 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

"Tell me I am the only one—"

I didn’t want to talk, and I didn’t want to continue to stroke his ego. Not when I was already so close, but there was a look in his eyes that I couldn’t ignore.

"You’re the only one."

His fingers stilled and then slipped from my body completely to be replaced by the thick head of his massive cock. I held my breath as he pushed in an inch, his fingers trailing down my cheeks.

"Promise?"

"I promise." I wanted to cry. My body was so needy, and he was teasing me so much without even doing much at all.

"Daisy." He roared my name as he slid himself home. His arms on either side of my head so he could stroke and kiss over my face as he began to move. Slowly. Like he had all the time in the world.

This wasn’t fucking. It was so far from that.

He made love to me. Just like he had done back in the old days. Every movement was slow and deliberate. His hands and mouth were gentle as they kissed my whimpers and moans away.

"I am lost in you."

I wanted to tell him I felt the same way, but his mouth slanted over mine, and I could do nothing but moan his name into his mouth and lift my legs to wrap around his waist.

I wanted him deeper. I wanted every inch of him to fill me. So I didn’t know where he stopped and I started.

We moved together, our bodies completely in sync. Just like it had been back in the time we had spent together six years ago.

Back when we were happy.

Back when we had loved each other.

The orgasm came out of nowhere; one second I was moving my body against his, our lips melded together so our breath mingled, and the next I was screaming his name, my head thrust back into the pillows as stars burst before my eyes.

"Daisy." He thrust into my body countless more times, riding out my orgasm, and then with a shudder he fell on top of me. Our sweaty chests heaving. "I—" With a groan he rolled to the side, leaving me lying there and staring up at the ceiling.

What the hell had just happened? How did we go from violence to arguing to the sweetest of lovemaking?

"Ilya," I began to say, and he pressed his lips to mine. Pulling me into his arms, he pressed my head to his chest.

"Sleep now, Daisy," he ordered, dragging the blanket up and over us. "Just sleep in my arms. Like you used to."

Chapter Eighteen

Daisy

"Ilya," I said his name before I had even fully come awake. Reaching for him because I missed the warmth of his body curled around mine, my hands were met with cold, empty sheets.

My eyes snapped open, and I turned my head to stare at the empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold. He hadn’t been next to me for hours. Had he snuck out in the middle of the night and crept back to his own room like what we had done was wrong?

I couldn’t bring myself to believe that. He had been so loving. The old Ilya that I had fallen in love with. The man I was still in love with if I was being honest with myself.

Something had changed between us last night, and—

On the nightstand, something caught my eye, and I sat up to make sure I was seeing right. Clutching the sheets to my naked breasts, I felt tears sting my eyes as I stared down at the wad of hundreds left on my nightstand.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe last night had been nothing. It sure looked like that because Ilya had left money on my nightstand like I was some kind of paid hooker.

It hurt. It hurt so much that for a second it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Clutching at my chest, I let my eyes fill with tears so the bundle of money was nothing but a blur. For five whole minutes, I just let myself feel the pain of Ilya's betrayal. He didn’t love me. He couldn’t. I wasn’t sure he was even capable of that feeling. All he did was use me and discard me. Over and over again, and like a moron, I fell for his soft eyes and gentle words every single time.

But no more.