Mafia King’s Bride: A Dark Bratva Arranged Marriage Romance
Mafia King’s Bride: Epilogue

Two months later

“You know,” Ana says as she picks a slice of watermelon from the fruit plate beside her, both of us lying on the deck of my yacht, watching the ocean as the vessel drifts, “I think I should go ahead and buy myself a jet.”

Not knowing where the sudden desire is coming from but used to her saying random things out of the blue—I think it’s a pregnancy thing—I go with the safest response.

“Of course. Which and when?”

She turns to me, a smile blossoming on her lips and her face positively radiant. It’s hard to believe she’s the same Ana I saw when she opened the door two months ago.

The doctor said rest, exercise, and sleep would bring the color back to her cheeks.

And I might be biased, but I think she’s more gorgeous too. Lying down on the deck chair with the small bump, her body gleaming from oil and sunscreen, and the little sun hat over her head, Anastasia Orlov looks like a dream come true.

“You are a sweet man, Dmitri, and you spoil me silly. I might run out of space for my bags pretty soon.”

I shrug, popping a cherry into my mouth. “Then we’ll just make more room. I’ll have Idrina do more shopping for you if you’d like.”

“I’m good,” she says, waving her hand around. “If you indulge me further, I might get too greedy.”

“Kotyonok,” I drawl, getting up from my reclining chair and kissing her cheek, “there’s nothing like greed when it comes to you and me. You ask, I give.”

She grins, and her hands pull me lower. I smile as I kiss her softly, caressing her cheek with my thumb and rubbing the baby bump with the other. When her hand goes to my shorts, tugging on the ties, I pull away.

“You heard what the doctor said,” I admonish.

“He said that I should get enough rest.”

“And avoid stress,” I point out.

Ana pouts. “Are you saying that making love to your wife and the mother of your baby is stressful? Am I stressing you?”

I chuckle, shaking my head in amusement at how she decided to turn the tables. “You are one crafty woman.”

She shrugs with a twinkle in her eyes. “I try. So,” her hand replaces its way to my cock again, “are you going to indulge me, or do I have to drag myself off this chair and put the moves on you?”

My guilty pleasure? I like it when she gets mouthy.

But I also like to show her who’s in charge, which is what I do when I kiss her again. I gently brush against her mouth first, coaxing and teasing, pulling away when she gets too impatient, and then going back in with a nip to her bottom lip.

“You have a smart mouth, kotyonok,” I murmur, “and I love when you moan my name with it, my dick inside you and your pussy clenching tight.”

My hands cradle her head, providing a touch of delicacy, but my lips devour, sinking into her. I thrust my tongue past her lips, and she moans, grabbing fistfuls of my hair.

In seconds, I have the straps of her bikini top undone, and I drag my lips down her throat, pouring kisses and tiny bites, soothed with my mouth sucking on her skin.

She rolls her hips, running her fingernails over my back. When my mouth closes over her nipple, she gasps and sinks her fingers back into my hair, pushing my head low.

“Fuck me,” Ana purrs, trembling from my touch.

“Soon, kotyonok,” I whisper as I make my way down her body, kissing every inch of her skin and lingering on her stomach.

Sometimes, I can’t believe that there’s a life there, a baby that’s a product of us. It’s unbelievable and humbling at the same time.

Her bottoms come off easily, and I guide myself between her thighs, touching her with my middle finger. She rocks her hips against my hand as I glide across her pussy, gently rubbing her clit.

“Dmitri,” she moans, and I slide my finger in. Then another.

“Fuck,” she pants as my fingers rub against her spot, thrusting in fast and hard while pleasuring her thoroughly.

My dick jerks in my shorts, straining against the inelastic fabric, begging to be buried inside her warmth and covered in her wetness.

“Fuck me,” she begs. “Please. I need you.”

I yank down my shorts, positioning myself with my tip at her entrance. I pause just before, though, leaning down and kissing her again. “Let me know if you feel uncomfortable,” I say. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” Ana replies.

Fucking hell.

I grunt harshly as I thrust in, and she gasps loudly, clinging to the edges of the chair. My hands sit possessively on Ana’s hips as I slide in and out, slowly at first, watching her body’s response.

“It’s fine,” she whispers, taking my hand and placing it on her stomach. “I want you, Dmitri.”

I give in to her, pounding in hard and deep, the sound of my thighs against her ass fading with the seagulls’ cries. It doesn’t matter, though—it’s just us, two people obsessed with each other, and maybe with an unhealthy number of cravings.

“You feel so good,” I groan as need overwhelms me, and her heat makes me almost explode. “So fucking good.”

I need to see her, the look on her face when she falls apart. And I want to feel her squeeze me until I’m lost in nothing but total bliss.

“I’m close,” Ana cries, and I reach down, interlocking our fingers and still fucking her deep and hard as she climaxes, a soft scream slipping through her lips and echoing around us.

I grunt as I come, shutting my eyes as it overtakes me for a moment, stretching into infinity, then bliss.

Afterward, I hold Ana in my arms, relaxing on the plush couch in the cabin, stroking her hair. We sit in silence for a while until she tilts her head and looks at me.

“Now that my father is dead and Viktor has taken over, will you work with him? He’s a good man.”

I know she’s put much thought into this question because I’ve also been thinking about the same thing. “My grudge wasn’t with your family, Ana. It was with your father. If Viktor proves he’s not another Nikolai, then I see no reason we can’t be allies.”

“Really?”

I nod, kissing her forehead. “I’ll meet him when he returns from his trip.”

She sighs and moves to lay on the couch with her head on my lap. I comb through her hair, working on the roots the way she likes. Marriage to Ana has made me a well-adjusted man—I know when to be soft and when not.

I’m mostly soft toward her, though. I keep thinking about how Nikolai made her believe that he loved her when he was just playing her, and I don’t want Ana to ever feel that way again.

I need her to know that I would do anything—massage her swollen feet after a day at the office, and also burn the world—for her sake.

“Our wedding anniversary is coming up soon,” she says as she touches my cheek fondly. “What are we going to do about it?”

I make a humming noise in my throat. “Mm. How about we get married again, and we’ll go on a honeymoon this time?”

She sits up abruptly, her eyes wide like pretty saucers. “Another wedding?”

Linking my fingers with hers, I bring her hand to my lips and place a kiss. “The first time, I could tell that you weren’t happy. I want the memory of our wedding to be something you’ll look back on without regrets. And,” I shrug, “I need an excuse to steal you from work for six months while I take you around the world.”

She laughs and swats my chest playfully. “You’re not stealing me from anything. I’d go anywhere with you. But,” she purses her lips, “if we’re going to be on a honeymoon for six months, it means the baby is going to be born somewhere else.”

“Pick a country, then,” I say. “Or an island. I could buy the place, and we’ll name it after the baby.”

Ana’s eyes sparkle as she laughs some more, subconsciously touching her stomach. I smile, too, infected by the happiness radiating from her. “We’re not buying an island,” she says. “That’s too expensive.”

“You don’t understand, lyubov moya. Nothing is too expensive when it comes to your happiness.” I brush my thumbs gently over her fingers. “If you wanted the moon, I’d replace a way to give it to you.”

Her laughter fades as she sees the serious intent in my eyes. “Dmitri, I . . . you don’t have to do that. As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

Cupping her cheek, I lean in till our foreheads touch. “You and our baby are my entire world. I want to give you everything your heart desires.”

Our noses brush in a gentle kiss. Ana’s breath hitches, and I take the chance to capture her lips again. She melts against me with a sigh of contentment.

“You’ve already given me more than I ever dreamed possible,” she whispers. “I’m a lucky woman.”

I’d argue that, but I know she’ll have a ready comeback.

It’s the truth, though. I’m the one who’s lucky to have married a stunning, amazing woman like Anastasia Orlov, and no matter what it takes or what I have to do, I’ll make sure the smile on her face never fades away.