The Gatekeeper (Chicago Bratva #9) Read Online Renee Rose

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Chicago Bratva Series by Renee Rose
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
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“Understood. Thank you, Pakhan.”

With his blessing, I pick up the ashes and then stop for soup and sandwiches from the deli on the corner. I buy lunch for Gleb while I’m there, dropping it at the desk for him when I walk by.

He lifts his chin in a gruff version of thanks.

I take the stairs up and enter the apartment.

I set the lunch down in the kitchen then head into the bedroom. The moment I see Kira, I forget all about eating. About breathing. About doing anything but devouring her.

Her cheeks are flushed. Nipples puckered. The flesh between her legs lifts and flutters in anticipation of being touched. She looks magnificent.

I lean against the dresser to take in the sight. To keep myself from going straight to her and ravishing her in every way possible. Because this is supposed to be punishment.

I’m making her wait for it.

I watch her closely. If I saw any fear in her, I’d probably go some other way. But all I see is irritation and desire.

She wants this. She probably hates that she wants it, but that doesn’t change the way she writhes on the bed, panting. The way she pleads with her eyes.

I saunter over and climb on the bed. “Shall we try again?” I slide my hands under her ass and squeeze it as I lick into her once more. She’s even juicier than she was when I left, as if her desire has only grown each minute I was gone.

I pause when she doesn’t answer, and she quickly barks out a “Da.”

I reward her with several firm strokes of my tongue, ending with a slow roll around her clit.

She rocks her hips up to my mouth. “Is this your fantasy, Maykl?” she pants.

“Yes.”

“Have you done it before?”

Is she jealous? “What? Captured FBI informants and punished them with my tongue? No.”

She shimmies her hips from side to side. “Have you done this with other women?”

She is jealous. Smugness zips through me.

I lift my head and grin. “No. You’re the first woman to inspire this precise treatment. Does that please you, Kira?”

I’m sure that it does because her cheeks turn pink as our gazes tangle.

“I’m tempted to torture you this way all day long,” I say.

“Don’t leave me again!” she cries out in alarm, and I chuckle.

“No? I crawl over her, unbuttoning my pants. “What do you need, little warrior? You want more than my tongue between your legs?”

“Y-yes please,” she warbles. She’s adorable when she’s coming undone like this.

I grab a condom from my nightstand and shuck my clothes before rolling it on.

I consider her. “Do I leave you in this position?” I muse aloud.

But I already know. As pretty as she looks splayed out that way, I want those legs wrapped around me when I sink deep inside her. I want her to be able to respond to me.

I unlock both her ankles and one of her wrists, then I climb over her and pause, looking down. I suppose I’m waiting for consent, even though she just begged me for it. But I want to feel wanted.

“I want on top,” she whispers.

I smile. How like her. My little warrior, demanding what she wants.

I release her wrist from where it’s chained to the bed and attach the other cuff to my wrist. Then I roll to my back, my hands at her waist to help her climb on.

Her eyes roll back in her head as she climbs on. Her internal muscles give me a squeeze, making me shudder with pleasure.

I watch as she takes what she needs from me, starting slow, her body moving in beautiful, graceful undulations. Soon her hips begin to snap as she tries to take me deeper. She picks up her pace, loses her breath. She braces both her hands on my shoulders, and I use my free hand to urge her hips forward.

She starts chanting. Babbling. Things like “now” and “yes” and “please”. She cries out my name twice. Each time sends a surge of lust through me. On the third time, I can’t take it anymore. I flip her onto her back and pound to our glorious finish. We both come at the same time–her muscles milking my dick for every last drop.

I shudder and shake and groan with the release.

And when stillness descends, I lower my lips to her neck and kiss there. “Thank you,” I murmur.

She lets out a small cry, like my thanks wounded her. When I lift my head, there are tears in her eyes. She blinks them rapidly away, turning her face to the side.

I catch her jaw and turn it back. “What is it?”

“I don’t know,” she says, and I believe her. “It was just…intense. But good, Maykl. So good.” After a moment’s hesitation, she says, “Thank you.” Almost like it costs her to offer the thanks.



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