The Bratva’s Locked Up Love by Jagger Cole

25

Maksim

“There,”she points through the dark trees. And there, at the edge of a small lake, I see the silhouette of a house.

My body aches in a hundred places. But sitting here in the passenger seat while Quinn’s been driving these last few hours has been something out of a dream. It’s surreal, in a sense. Hours ago, I was chained in a cage in a hole in the ground, being beaten for information I’d never give up.

Now, I’m here, next to the woman I love, driving up into the woods like we’re going on some kind of romantic retreat. I know it’s not really that—I know the gravity of what she’s done for me is something we can’t ignore.

But for now, maybe just for a second, I can pretend the world beyond us doesn’t exist. I reach over and take her hand, lacing my fingers into hers. She turns, and in the low glow of the dashboard, I see her flash a smile at me.

“We’ll be safe here,” she says softly. “We can lay low, and you can heal up before we figure out what to do next.”

For an entire month, I’ve dreamed of nothing but touching her again. I’ve wanted nothing but the feel of her lips on mine, and the sound of her voice in my ears. Fuck, I’d have settled for just knowing she was okay, or confirmation that she even knew I was alive.

But now, we’re here. I have no idea where we go from here, or what comes next. But for the moment, it’s like we’re not who we are. We’re just us.

I nod as she turns back to the dirt road. We pull through the trees and come to a stop in front of a beautiful little house right by the shore. A garage sits next to it, and behind it, a long wooden dock stretches out low over the water.

The whole place could use a lot of work, that much is clear. But it’s also perfect. It’s an escape, for just her and I.

I lean against the side of the porch, still feeling weakened and woozy from the torture sessions. Quinn fishes around under the steps until I see her face light up.

“Got it.”

She pulls out a key, unlocks the door, and then helps me shuffle inside. Part of me hates being weak with her—I hate the fact that I’m the one leaning on her, and not being the rock she knows me as. And yet, it’s her. It’s Quinn. And I know I could never feel weak with her.

I know the feeling that throbs in my very soul when she’s with me. And I know what it means, even if I’ve never felt it before, with anyone. It means I can be weak. I can let down my defenses, because she’s already inside anyways.

Quinn hugs me tightly as she helps me inside and through to the living room. The whole cabin is dusty as hell, and full of cobwebs grime. But it’s just the dust of time. This place—her friend’s family cabin, she told me on the way here—hasn’t been visited for a while.

Big windows overlook the lake outside. I grunt as Quinn eases me down onto an old, but soft and cozy couch. My bulk sags the cushions, and I look up to grin at her.

“Thank you.”

She smiles back as she leans down to kiss me softly. “Let’s get you fixed up.”

She sets the medical bag from her car onto the coffee table and opens it. She turns to let her gaze slide over the myriad of cuts, jabs, burns, and bruises across my bare chest and arms—from the guards trying to beat answers out of me. Her face caves in sadness, and I reach out to take her hand.

“I’m okay, malishka,” I growl quietly.

She smiles through the anguish on her face.

“You sure I can’t get you anything for the pain?” She winces. “This is going to take a while.”

I shake my head. “Nothing.”

“Maks, it’s not anything like heroi—”

“I’ll be okay,” I grunt.

Her mouth purses. “Okay.”

She wasn’t wrong, either. It takes almost two hours for her to stitch up every gash and treat every wound. By the time she’s done, my toros and arms are crisscrossed with new bandages.

I smirk as I look up at her. “I feel like an Egyptian mummy.”

Quinn giggles, and her eyes finally seem to light up from the sadness they kept before. Her gaze centers on my eyes as she blushes. “Well, much more handsome.”

Our eyes hold each others in the silence. I reach out, taking her hand in mine and twisting my fingers with hers.

“I missed you,” I groan.

“I missed you so much,” she gasps as I pull her into me. She falls into my lap, but then winces.

“I don’t want to hurt—”

“You can’t hurt me,” I grow quietly. “I can’t feel pain when I’m with you.”

Her face lowers to mine. I cup her cheek, running my thumb over her plump lower lip. But then she moans, and I’m helpless to hold out another second. My mouth crushes to hers as she moans deeply. I growl into her lips as my hand slides back into her hair, threading into her long locks and tangling them tight in my fingers.

She presses herself to me, kissing me deeply and whimpering into my mouth. Broken and fucked up as it may be, I feel my body surge against her; needing her, wanting her. Aching for nothing but her.

I keep kissing her as my hands slide up under the hem of her blouse. My fingers tease over her skin before sliding to her front. I feel her whimper at my touch, her stomach caving under my fingers before I slip my hand out.

My lips hungrily devour hers as I slowly work the buttons open, one-by-one. The blouse falls off her shoulders, followed by the straps of her bra as I pop it open at the back. She hugs me tightly, pressing her tits to my chest. Her nipples tease over my skin, and I groan as one of my hands slides up her ribs. I cup one of her breasts, rolling the nipple under my thumb as she gasps into the kiss.

Quinn pulls away and slowly stands. I watch hungrily with rapt attention as she undoes the button and zipper to her pants. She lets them drop to pool at her ankles before she steps out of them. And then she’s standing before me in the moonlight in just her panties.

I reach for her slowly. My fingers hook into the lacy sides as I pull her closer to me. My lips press to her stomach, kissing her skin. I move lower as I peel the lace of her panties down. My mouth moves hungrily over soft skin, and then downy hair, before suddenly my tongue finds her wetness.

“Maks…” She moans eagerly.

I slip her panties down her long legs as I press my mouth between them. My tongue delves into her, parting her slick lips and tasting her sweetness. She whimpers, her hands sliding into my hair as I groan into her pussy.

My tongue drags up through her slit until it bumps over her clit. Quinn shudders, moaning as her hips push into me—needing my mouth where I need to put it. I groan hungrily as I lick her, teasing her clit relentlessly. My hand slides up her inner thigh until my fingers brush her opening. I ease a finger into her, and I stroke the pad against her g-spot as she starts to tremble.

“Oh my God…”

I groan, swirling my tongue around her clit as I slowly finger her, rubbing her g-spot. My other hand slides around to grip her ass, pulling her hard against my needy mouth as I devour her. Her fingers tighten in my hair, and her body shudders. Her breath catches sharply, and suddenly she’s screaming my name as she comes undone.

“Maks!”

I growl, keeping my mouth right over her clit. I suck and lick and stroke as she comes hard against my tongue. She grinds her little cunt against my mouth as she cries out in pleasure.

She’s still shaking against me as I drop a hand to the elastic waist of my prison pants and shove them down. My thick cock springs free to slap heavily against my abs. My need for her is almost more than I can stand. The ache to be inside of her a hunger greater than any needle’s call I’ve ever felt.

I shove my pants down as I pull her onto my lap. She grabs my face, kissing me eagerly and tasting herself on my lips. Her legs go to either side of mine, and I lower her against the swollen head of my cock.

“Take me,” she whispers.

“Always.”

I kiss her deeply as I pull her into me. My pulse surges as I feel the molten heat of her cunt slide over me. She moans, and her mouth drops to mine, kissing me hungrily. My large hands circle her waist, pulling her all the way down until her clit grinds into the base of my dick.

“I missed you so much…” she moans as I grind deep. My hands splay over her ass, lifting her until just the fat tip of my cock is teasing her entrance. Then I pull her down, driving my hips up to bury my cock deep in her pussy.

Her arms wrap around my neck. Her fingers thread into my hair, and her lips crush to mine. We move slowly, her just riding my thickness up and down, squeezing me. Her wetness drips down my balls, and her nipples drag over my chest. For all my injuries, I feel nothing—nothing but her, and the heavenly feel of her heat squeezing around me.

One of my hands moves to her hip, squeezing and guiding her up and down. The other grips her ass. My finger slips down the cleft, centering on her tight hole. She whimpers greedily. And she gasps as my finger swirls and teases her ass.

Her body surges into me, riding me, taking all of me. It’s like we’re one being, locked at the lips and joined at the hips as we rock up and down. Her body tightens. She shudders into me and moans my name over and over.

It’s the only drug I ever want. She’s the only addiction I’ll ever need. And tonight, all I want is to overdose on her into sweet oblivion.

When she comes, she screams her release into my lips. I grip her tight and drive into her as she crests. And the feel of her cunt squeezing me is more than I can resist. I let go, emptying myself bare into her; spilling my hot cum deep in her pussy as she explodes for me.

All I ever want. All I ever need. My new and final drug of choice.

My forever.