Page 5 of Chosen By the BRATVA Grump

When his warm breath brushes directly over my now-damp thong, a shudder wracks my body. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never had anything like this before. My ex-boyfriend made me feel like it was dirty and not what real boyfriends did. But with Natan, the sharp edge of my hesitation simply melts away.

He hooks his fingers into the soft fabric of my underwear, sliding the thong down my legs with agonizing patience, and pocketing it. He parts my knees again, lifting them until my heels are pressed on the edge of the desk for leverage. When he inhales, his nostrils flare and his eyes darken. He presses a hand to his crotch, adjusting himself with a low groan.

The instant his lips press against my center, a sharp, gasping cry escapes my mouth.

The sensation is overwhelming, hot, wet, and incredibly focused. Natan swirls his tongue over me, finding a rhythm that instantly makes my hips arch off the desk. He anchors me in place, his hands gripping my hips tightly, keeping me pinned to his mouth as he drinks me in.

“Natan, please,” I beg softly, completely lost in the swell of pleasure rolling through me.

He growls against my skin, the sound dark and primitive, and increases the pressure. Every stroke of his tongue builds a tight, unbearable coil deep in my stomach. I grip his shoulders, amazed at how someone so massive and terrifying can bring me to the absolute edge of sanity with such precision.

The tension snaps all at once.

A burst of intense warmth ripples through my whole body, and I cling to him, crying out his name into the quiet air of the gallery. Natan doesn’t pull away; he coaxingly licks through the crest of my climax, soothing the sensitive flesh until my desperate gasps slow into soft, shivering breaths.

Slowly, he rises, brushing a soft kiss against my trembling lips. He cups my flushed face in his broad hands, his gray eyes searching mine with an adoration so thick it takes my breath away all over again.

“Better than worrying?” he murmurs, a rare, wicked smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looks devastating like this. His good looks sharpening into something sinful and…mine.

I chuckle weakly. “You have no idea.”

“No,” he says. “You have no idea.”

He takes my hand and places it over him. He is huge and hard through his trousers, and my mouth opens in a small ‘o’.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you, Kimmie,” he says, lowering his face to kiss me. He kisses me gently, a slow, deep press of his lips that draws a lingering sigh from my chest. The raw, intense hunger from seconds ago turns into something painfully sweet.

Before I can fully catch my breath, he hooks his arms beneath my thighs and lifts me off the edge of the desk.

“Natan—”

“I’ve got you,” he rumbles softly.

He doesn’t carry me back to the ladder or toward the door. Instead, he sinks down onto the smooth, polished floor, taking me with him so that I’m sitting directly in his lap. The cool floor beneath us doesn’t matter; the heat radiating off his huge frame is more than enough. I’m aware that my center is naked against the fabric of his trousers, and try to move a little so I don’t mark him with my arousal.

“Nuh-uh,” he says, pressing up against me, pulling a surprised sound of anticipation from me.

“But your trousers—” His whole suit looks expensive, and I don’t know how I’d explain it if I took it to a dry cleaner.

“I don’t care,” he says, his eyes hooded now as they follow his hands over me. “I want to be marked by you. I want you to be marked by me, Kimmie.”

He pulls the ribbon at my side, my dress opening for him, then he pushes it from my shoulders as he thrusts upwards again.

A jolt of pleasure zaps through me again, and I reach back without thinking to remove my bra. While he unbuttons his shirt and twists to pull it off.

My boobs aren’t my favorite feature. They are large and hang heavy. Not like the ones you see on celebrities where they manage to defy gravity.

But when Natan looks at them, his pupils blow and he grunts “fuck,” my opinion of them changes instantly.

“Fuck, Kimmie, I’m not going to last,” he says, regret tangling with desperation. “You’re so hot, so beautiful, so fucking perfect.”

He groans, his cock twitching against me beneath the fabric of his trousers.

His words embolden me, and I pull open his belt, slowly undoing the fly of his trousers.

He brings his hands to my wrists.

“Don’t touch me,” he says. “Not yet. I just need a second.”