19. Mikhail
MIKHAIL
I’ve got Alina pinned against the glass, her body trembling under me as I push my cock deeper, feeling her tight heat clutch around every fucking inch.
My hands grip her hips hard, keeping her steady, and I can’t tear my eyes off her—lips parted, eyes half-lidded with need, chest heaving as she takes me.
“Yes baby girl,” I growl, my voice rough with hunger, and I thrust once, slow but hard, watching her gasp, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“You feel that, baby?” I rasp, pulling back just to drive in again, deeper this time.
“Feel how I fill you up?” Her moan is high and broken, and it’s music to my ears, stoking the fire in my gut.
I’m not gentle, not tonight—I’m the Pakhan, and she’s mine to claim.
My hands slide down, grabbing her thighs, and I hoist her up in one fluid move, her legs wrapping around my waist on instinct as I hold her weight against the glass.
“Hold on tight, Alina,” I order, and she does, arms looping around my neck as I start moving, each thrust slamming her back against the wall with a thud.
Her head tips back, exposing that pretty throat, and I lean in, biting down just enough to mark her while I fuck into her.
“You like that, don’t you?” I say. “Like being fucked like you’re mine to break.
” She whimpers, nodding, and I feel her clench around me, driving me wild.
I’m not staying here, though. This balcony isn’t enough.
I need her spread out for me, all mine to ruin.
With her still wrapped around me, I turn, kicking the glass door open with my boot, and stride through, my cock still buried deep as I carry her.
Her breath hitches with every step, every jolt, and I smirk, tightening my grip.
“I’m not done with you,” I tell her, and she shivers against me, her hands clutching tighter.
We reach the bed, and I drop her onto it, her body bouncing slightly on the mattress as I pull out just long enough to yank her dress the rest of the way off.
She’s a fucking sight—hair messy, skin flushed, legs still trembling from before.
I don’t waste time, climbing over her, pushing her thighs apart with my knees as I settle between them.
“Spread wide for me, malyshka,” I command, and she does, eyes locked on mine, full of want.
I grip my cock, guiding it back to her entrance, and push in slow this time, letting her feel every thick inch as I stretch her open again.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” I grunt, bottoming out, my hips flush to hers.
Her moan is loud, unashamed, and I start moving, thrusting deep in missionary, my hands bracing on either side of her head as I watch her face twist with pleasure.
“Take it, baby, take every fuckin’ bit of me,” I say, snapping my hips harder, the bed creaking under us.
Her hands grab at my back, nails raking my skin, and I hiss, loving the sting as I pound into her, each thrust rocking her body up the mattress.
“You gonna come again for me?” I ask, leaning down to suck at her neck, teeth grazing.
“I wanna feel you shatter on my cock.” She’s close—I can tell by the way her breath stutters, the way she tightens around me, and I don’t let up, driving into her with everything I’ve got.
“Mikhail—oh, fuck,” she gasps, and then she’s there, her whole body seizing as she comes hard, her pussy gripping me like a vise, milking me as she cries out.
I slow just enough to ride it out with her, feeling her pulse around me, but I’m not done—not by a long shot.
“Good girl,” I murmur, pulling out slowly, her slickness coating me as I slide down her body, my hands pushing her thighs apart again.
“Look at this mess you made,” I say, voice rough with approval, and I dip my head, dragging my tongue through her folds, tasting her fresh orgasm, sweet and sharp on my lips.
She whimpers, oversensitive, hips bucking under me, but I hold her down, licking up every drop, sucking at her clit just to hear her moan again.
“Fuckin’ delicious,” I growl against her, taking my time, savoring her as she shakes beneath me.
But I want more control, complete and total.
I pull back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand as I climb back up, reaching a silk tie.
“Hands up, Alina,” I order, and she obeys, eyes wide but trusting as I bind her wrists together, securing them tight to the post above her head.
Her chest rises and falls fast, and I smirk, settling between her legs again, my hands spreading her thighs wide.
“Just like that,” I tell her, gripping my cock, still rock-hard and slick with her, and I position myself at her entrance, rubbing the head against her swollen folds, teasing just enough to make her squirm.
I start to push in, watching her face as I stretch her open once more, feeling her heat pull me in.
Her thighs tremble under my hands as I spread her wider, settling my weight over her, and I can’t hold back the growl in my throat.
“Fuck, you take me so good,” I say, my voice rough as gravel, and I thrust hard, making her body jolt up the bed.
Her moan fuels me, my hips snapping against hers with brutal rhythm.
“Mikhail—God,” she pants, her eyes locked on mine, full of need, and I smirk, leaning down to bite at her jaw, my teeth grazing her skin.
“You love this, don’t you? Being tied up, fucked hard by your Pakhan,” I rasp, and I pound into her again, the bedframe rattling with every move. Her pussy clenches around me, so damn tight, and I can feel every ripple, every shudder as I drive deeper, claiming every inch of her.
“Fuck yes, don’t stop,” she begs, her voice breaking, and I don’t plan to, not when she’s like this, spread out and mine.
My hands grip her hips, pulling her into each thrust, and I watch her breasts bounce with the force, nipples hard as I lean down to suck one into my mouth, teeth nipping just enough to make her cry out.
“You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” I growl against her skin, switching to the other side, tongue flicking over her. “I can feel it, baby, squeezing me so fucking tight.”
Her head thrashes on the pillow, wrists tugging at the silk tie, and I thrust harder, angling my hips to hit that spot inside her, relentless, until her moans turn to sharp gasps.
“Mikhail, I’m—fuck!” she chokes out, and then she’s coming, her walls pulsing around my cock, gripping me like a vice as her whole body shakes beneath me.
I slow just for a second, letting her ride it out, but I’m not stopping, not when I’m this close myself, the heat building low in my gut.
“Damn, you’re a mess,” I mutter, kissing up her throat, tasting the salt of her sweat as I keep fucking into her, drawing out her high.
Her breath is ragged, eyes glassy, but she’s still with me, still pushing her hips up to meet mine.
“You want more, don’t you?” I ask, my voice a low snarl, and she nods, whimpering, her body still trembling under me.
I grin, dark and hungry, and pick up the pace again, slamming into her with everything I’ve got.
“No running from me again,” I tell her, one hand sliding up to grip her bound wrists, pinning them harder to the post as I thrust deep, feeling her stretch around me.
“This pussy, this body—all fuckin’ mine.
” She moans at my words, her legs wrapping tighter around my waist, pulling me in, and I can’t hold back much longer, the pressure building fast, my balls tightening as I rut into her like a damn animal.
“Fuck, I’m close,” I grunt, my voice strained, and I look down at her, meeting her hazy gaze.
“Where do you want it, baby? Outside?” I ask, slowing just a fraction, giving her the choice, though every part of me wants to stay buried in her heat.
Her eyes flicker, desperate and wild, and she shakes her head, voice raw as she speaks.
“No—inside me, Mikhail. Come in me, please.”
Her words snap the last of my control, and I groan low, my grip on her hips bruising as I thrust harder, faster, chasing that edge. “Fuck, you’re gonna take it all,” I say, teeth gritted, and she nods, moaning, her body arching up to meet me.
“Fill me up,” she whispers, and that’s it—my vision blurs as I come, hard and deep, spilling into her with a growl, my cock throbbing as I pump every last drop, flooding her tight heat until I’m spent, hips jerking with the aftershocks.
“Goddamn,” I mutter, collapsing over her, bracing on my elbows so I don’t crush her, my breath hot against her neck as I try to steady myself.
She’s trembling beneath me, still tied, still full of me, and I can feel the mess we’ve made, the warmth of my release mixing with her slickness as I stay buried inside.
“You okay, malyshka?” I ask, voice softer now, kissing along her collarbone, and she nods, a shaky breath escaping her lips.
“Yeah—fuck, yeah,” she murmurs, and I smirk, pulling back just enough to look at her, her face flushed, hair a wild mess. My hands slide down, gripping her thighs again, and I give a slow, lazy thrust, just to feel her gasp one more time, still sensitive from it all.
“You look so good like this,” I tell her, eyes raking over her bound form, and I can already feel the hunger stirring again, even after that.
I lean down, capturing her mouth in a hard kiss, tasting her, owning her, and she kisses back, just as hungry, even with her wrists still secured.
“This night is far from over,” I warn her, pulling back to untie the silk from the post, but keeping her hands bound together as I shift my weight, planning my next move.
Her eyes widen a fraction, but there’s trust there, mixed with that same need, and I know she’s ready for whatever I’ve got next.
My cock twitches inside her, already hardening again, and I’m not about to let this end anytime soon.
She responds too, and I fuck her once in the bed, and once more on the sofa. That’s all we do until dawn shows her bare bones, because in the last six years, I’ve missed Alina’s soul and her body, and this is me taking it all back.
I wake before dawn with her weight still draped over me, her breathing slow and even, her hair warm against my throat.
We never made it back to the bed. The sofa holds us instead, cramped and imperfect, and I don’t move even when my leg goes numb.
I stay still because this feels final in a way I didn’t expect.
This is no longer about reclaiming what was taken. It’s about keeping what I’ve just regained.
She stirs once, presses closer without opening her eyes, and something in my chest tightens hard enough to hurt. I’ve slept beside women before. I’ve woken up in worse places with blood on my hands and decisions already made. This is different. This is dangerous.
I watch her later with our son, quiet at the breakfast table, brushing crumbs from his sleeve, correcting him gently when he reaches for the knife wrong.
He looks up at her like she’s the center of the room, and she smiles at him like there’s nowhere else she’d rather be.
I’ve built empires that didn’t feel as solid as this moment.
Hope takes root before I can stop it.
That’s the problem.
Hope makes you visible, predictable, and vulnerable to men like Vladimir who don’t want territory. They want leverage.
By noon, I’m already moving pieces. I shift routes without announcing it. I pull men from old assignments and replace them with ones who’ve never answered to anyone but me. I burn two contracts that were profitable but exposed, and I greenlight an audit that will scare half the city into silence.
My comms light up just after dusk.
Confirmed movement.
Kosov assets repositioning.
Primary interest: the child.
I don’t respond. I look through the glass at Alina, at our son curled beside her on the couch, safe for now, unaware of how close the world is pressing in. Vladimir wants to move the child, but that’s not happening. Not on my watch.