Page 167 of The Wrong Brother

Soon, almost too soon, the chair is creaking under us and it’s getting dangerous with how wet I am and how fast we’re moving. Rus grunts as he guides me down on his length, over and over, hands gripping the back of my waist and smacking my asshard.

I orgasm when he leans forward, buries his face in my tits, and bites just hard enough to leave a mark.

Someone will see it unless I suddenly become a lot more modest in my wardrobe.

But that mark, that claim on me, sends me over the edge. My pussy squeezes him tight, dragging hot and wet over and over again as my vision greys out.

Rus’ arms come around my waist and hold me tight against him as he thrusts up into me. My muscles are giving up, loosening, and I can barely prop myself upright as I feel him throb once, twice, and spill into me.

His hot cum runs down my thighs, but it doesn’t stop him groaning “Emma” and continuing to fuck me like he reallyistrying to get me pregnant, even though I’m already carrying his child.

When it’s over, we’re both out of breath and boneless. Ruslan’s jacket is torn at the shoulder seam, and my skirt is dark with smeared cum.

I love it.

I want this every night. I want this for the rest of my life.

That thought scares me, and as I meet Ruslan’s eyes, I swear I see the same edge of fear in his. The realization that this is more than we ever meant it to be.

“You’re okay?” he asks, caressing my waist to my hip and keeping me steady on his lap. I nod, not ready for words yet, and get off him carefully, trying not to knock anything else over in the process.

Once we both catch our breath, Rus glances once at the folders on the desk and takes me by the hand, leading me toward the staircase and our bedroom.

“Business comes later,” he says—a sentence that I’m sure would mortify most crime bosses. “I want to get you washed up and put to bed. You should rest,l’vyonak.”

I follow him without question.

Trusting that he’ll take care of me.

Ofus.

Because I’m just as much his as he is mine, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Epilogue

One year later

Ruslan

The soundthat drags me out of sleep isn’t urgent, but it’s persistent. I surface from foggy dreams that feel just as real as my waking life these days. I’m exhausted in back rooms, in alleys, and even in the office suites ofLord&Lion.

The sharp knock lands against the bedroom door, followed by another.

“Ruslan.Shef.”

I groan into the pillow.

For one disorienting second, my mind immediately leaps backward. Something has happened in the business. A shipment has gone wrong. Someone has talked. One of our accounts has been compromised.

I sit upright before I’m fully awake.

The bedroom is dark except for the pale glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains. Beside me, Emma doesn’t stir,one arm curled beneath her pillow, dark hair spilling across the sheets.

Another knock.

“Rus.”

It’s Stepan’s voice.