All Chapters of Undercover in His Bed: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Aria.Holy shit. Holy shit. Fuck. What the hell did I just do?I couldn't believe I'd just had the most incredible, earth-shattering sex with a freaking stranger. A Bratva boss who could have killed me while he had me tied to his bed.God, he would have killed me if he knew why I was here.What on earth was I thinking? Right, I wasn't thinking.My body was a delicious mess of satisfaction and exhaustion, but it was time to set up these microchips and get the hell out of Dodge.I waited for a few moments, then cautiously crept away from him, trying not to jostle the bed too much. I couldn't help but take one last look at Axel's sleeping form – his chiseled chest rising and falling with each breath, his face relaxed in slumber.Convinced that he was truly out cold, I gingerly slipped away, wincing as the chilly air hit my exposed skin."Slow-ly," I whispered to myself, tiptoeing around the room, my bare feet barely making a sound against the luxurious carpet. My heart thumped in my chest

Axel.Aria's moans and whimpers filled the room, fueling me to thrust harder and deeper as I held off my release until she climaxed. I followed shortly after, the sensation pure ecstasy. My heart pounded in my ribcage and my vision blurred slightly.The release left me a little breathless, but Aria was panting heavily, despite my having done most of the work."Tired, krasotka?" I asked, my voice hoarse and slightly shaky. The veins on my muscles throbbed, especially those on my most sensitive areas.She hummed in response, adjusted her clothing, and turned to face me. Her chest rose and fell in sync with mine as she caught her breath."Learned your lesson, naughty girl, or do you need more spanking?" I teased, my gaze fixed on her breasts. They were round and full, neither too large nor too small. They'd be a perfect fit for my large hands."I... uh..." she cleared her throat, struggling to speak. She shook her head and blinked several times, trying to clear her thoughts.While she ga

Aria. Balancing a tray of steaming cups in one hand, I weaved through the busy cafe, feeling like a fraud in my waitress uniform. It was hard to believe that just last night, I had been tangled in Axel Yakov's arms, lost in a haze of pleasure I never thought possible."Here's your cappuccino, sir," I said, placing the cup in front of a middle-aged man engrossed in his newspaper. He didn't even glance up, just grunted his thanks. Sighing, I made my way back to the counter, where another cup of coffee awaited me – my third that morning.I downed the bitter liquid, hoping it would banish the memories of last night from my mind, but they refused to fade. Axel's touch still lingered on my skin, as if he had branded me with his possession."Hey, Aria, can you take these orders to table six?" my coworker, Emily, called out, snapping me out of my thoughts."Sure thing," I replied, forcing a smile and taking the plates from her.Delivering the food to the customers, my thoughts wandered back

AxelThe air in the room was thick with tension, the stench of sweat and fear transporting me back to the first time I was exposed to the true meaning of Bratva business. I was just sixteen years old when my father led me down to his interrogation chamber for the first time."Son, this is your birthright," he'd said, his voice cold and steady as he secured the trembling man to a chair. "One day, you'll take over the business. Violence is an unavoidable part of our world."I watched, wide-eyed and silent, as the man's pleas for mercy filled the room. My father didn't waver; his face expressionless, his movements methodical. I couldn't tear my gaze away from the grisly scene unfolding before me."Dad, please," I remember whispering. "Isn't there another way?"My father had turned to me, his eyes glinting with a hardness I'd never seen before. "This is how we maintain order, son," he replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "This is how we protect our family and our business."Now, as I st

Aria"One more, please," I gulped down the burning alcohol, the sharp sting offering a momentary reprieve from my torment. As I scanned the room, I took in the dimly lit, seedy environment. Drunken men leer at the scantily clad dancers writhing on stage, their hands wandering over their own bodies, stroking their cocks in anticipation. Some licked their lips lasciviously, eyes filled with depravity as they fixated on the exposed flesh of the dancers. The room was suffocating, a den of lust and debauchery, and I hated that my best friend had to work in a place like this."You look like the weight of the world is crushing you," the bartender said softly. Zara was my best friend, and her concern was etched across her face. She was a bombshell, with her thick black hair cut into a bob, framing her delicate features. Her deep brown eyes were filled with warmth and understanding, and she carried herself with confidence and poise. Her outfit, though, was another story.Zara was clad in a ski