Sanctum: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

Sanctum: Chapter 9



I’M SUPER DRUNK, or high, or whatever you call the combination of both of those things. And I had no idea this could happen, but I swear every nerve ending in my body’s been lit on fire.

I flinch when he reaches for me but have no chance to do anything more before he tugs me onto his lap. The feel of his hardness pressing into my ass tells me he likes what he sees. Pride swells in my chest.

That feels nice, not scary like I’d imagined it would.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks. I hold my breath when he leans forward and slides his mouth over the hollow of my neck. His hair tickles my chin.

“Less inhibited, you could say.” My voice sounds distant. “What are you doing?”

His shoulders rise when he inhales. “You smell so good.”

“You wanted to smell me?”

“Mmm.”

“That’s an interesting take on foreplay.”

“It’s all foreplay, Harper. All of it. You running. The chase. Me catching you. Your sass and wit. Seeing you in that dress. Knowing what was beneath it.”

Flames of arousal lick at me. His grip tightens.

“When I was younger, I knew a man who was in college.” It’s funny to think of Aleksandr as a teen. Younger, innocent, less chiseled. Maybe his beard was scant. Maybe his eyes weren’t so hardened.

“He was kind of like another big brother. I was a virgin, and he was giving me some advice.”

Oh, boy.

I swallow. Do I want to hear this?

“You know how he told me to make sure a woman was ready for sex?”

“Um. Ask her?”

He smiles and shakes his head, his accent thicker with arousal. “He said to touch her everywhere and let her know how much I appreciated what I saw. And then kiss every inch of her body until she was so wet, she couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Well, damn. “I mean you could maybe do that.”

He brushes his lips across my cheek, my jaw, my neck. Moves to my shoulder and the top of each breast before he weighs each in his hands.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m…being persuaded.”

I’m nearing boneless when he bends me backward so he can kiss his way down the length of my body, from the valley between my breasts to my navel. The room is thick with anticipation, the warmth of the alcohol loosening my taut nerves, my restraint.

With every second that passes as he continues to kiss me, I sink deeper and deeper into a world where only the two of us dwell.

The magnetic pull between us grows, the connection undeniable. I’ve been hurt, yes.

But so has he.

I’ve lost my innocence.

So has he.

It gives me hope that when he finds out my secret, when he finds out everything about me, he’ll forgive me.

I almost feel like I can trust him. I almost feel like I could be honest. But right now, I can only focus on what has to happen tonight.

The air, as always, is charged between us. Electric. He kisses his way back up to my breasts, and my nipples pebble in anticipation. When he draws one of them between his lips and sucks, my hips rise of their own accord.

Waves of pleasure rock me when he plies the flat of his tongue against my nipples, one after the other. When I freeze, he stops long enough to issue an order. “Let go. Stop fighting me.”

I want to protest, to tell him to stop telling me what to do, but with every kiss, every lick and nibble and touch, my resolve begins to crumble. I can’t remember the thoughts that held me back before.

His touch is both gentle and firm, confident but unhurried. When his lips find mine, the last vestiges of the world around me cease to exist. A floating sensation overwhelms me.

And then I’m actually floating. We’re standing and he’s carrying me to the bed. With deliberate moves, he lays me on my back in the middle of the mattress and kneels beside me. We were here once before, and I asked him to stop. I can’t remember now why.

My panties are around my ankles, then on the floor. He parts my legs and settles himself between them with confident ease. The heat of his breath on my inner thighs is a promise of pleasure. I start to shake when I realize what he’s going to do, but this time, I’m ready.

He smooths his fingers between my legs, easily gliding through my slick folds. “Khristos. You’re so damn wet.”

“Mmm,” I say on a choked breath. “I guess that was good advice you got.”

His eyes meet mine. He holds my gaze when he drags his tongue upward, right over my clit. I cry out at the sudden spasm of pleasure that seems to take over my whole lower body.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Fuuccck,” he groans. “God, you taste better than I imagined.”

He loses himself in worshipping me. A lazy stroke of his warm tongue to my clit, followed by a pulse of his fingers in my core. I’m ramping up toward ecstasy with every second that passes. Over and over again he tongues me, stifling his own groans. My eyes flutter closed. I’m drowning in perfection, my body responding of its own accord.

Everything becomes centered on the smallest connection between us. Every thought and feeling, every hope and dream could fit on the head of a pin. My entire world is right here, anticipating the next perfect swipe of his tongue.

“Are you close?” he asks.

I nod. I don’t think I could stop myself now if I tried.

“Come on my tongue,” he commands with another lazy lap of his tongue. “Come, Princess.”

The sensation overwhelms me and then — I’m stunned by a crescendo of ecstasy. I can’t breathe or speak as my body gives way to utter bliss. Spasms overtake me and I lose myself completely to him in total surrender. As the climax overpowers me, the wave of pleasure is tinged with a yawning need for something more, something deeper, a bond.

“I want you inside me,” I say while still riding through pleasure. “Please, Aleks.”

I can’t believe I’m asking him.

“If you’re ready,” he says in a whisper. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

I nod, a little shocked that I actually think I am. Still, I’m shaking when he gives a final kiss to my clit then slides up my body, his skin so warm against me. When he enters me, I don’t ask about protection because I know the family rules as well as he does. Staring into my eyes, he pauses, letting us both savor the moment before gently gliding out then back in, building a rhythm that thrills me.

The depth of our connection is undeniable. A flutter of anticipation weaves itself through my limbs. Every thrust of his hips sends frissons of exquisite awareness to every nerve ending in my body.

We move together in a perfect rhythm, as if this is what we were created for. I find myself on the edge of something deeper, something more. I can hardly contain the emotions and waves of pleasure spiraling through me now. What would it be like if I actually cared for him? What would it be like knowing he actually cared for me?

I reach another peak then my mind goes blissfully quiet, our breaths mingling in the cold stillness of the room. For once, I don’t have any expectations or fears. It’s just me and … Aleks.

My husband.

More thrusts of his hips have me on the edge of perfection again. He slows his movements until I’m begging for more.

My arms encircle his neck, and my legs wrap around him as he thrusts over and over again. My head sinks deeper into the pillow as ecstasy wraps around me a third time, this time more intense and so much more satisfying, so much sweeter than the first two.

This. Is. Everything.

When I finally come down from the high and sprawl out on the bed, he groans and lays his heavy head on my shoulder. It seems he’s as boneless and wrecked as I am.

“Passable,” I tease in a whisper, reaching for him. “Thank you.”

I didn’t know a man like him could be so gentle.

“Passable? Goddamn. Well, practice, they say, makes perfect.” He nuzzles his head into my chest. “I aim to please.”

“Oh?” Caressing the nape of his neck, I lay my other arm over my head as I try to steady my rapid breathing. “You did good.”

“That was only the first time, you know. Next time it’s your turn.”

“Oh, really?” I shrug. “I suppose I could try.”

I squeak when, with a rough tug, he rolls over and yanks me onto his chest. Gives me a fierce kiss to the forehead.

“Go to sleep,” he growls. “We have work to do tomorrow.”

Yes, we do have work to do tomorrow, no doubt. And I have to find a way to get him to trust me. To give me space and room so I’m not held prisoner here.

It’s only a matter of time before he discovers my secret. But it has to be on my terms.

I need him to trust me first, or all might be lost.


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