Page 48 of Forced By the Bratva

I told myself to step back, to shove him away and remind him that I still had a choice. That giving in would only make the cage tighter. But I couldn’t bring myself to. It was as though my feet were planted.

His mouth hovered inches from mine, his warm breath brushing my lips. I could smell the faint spice of his cologne mingling with the clean scent of his skin. Every logical part of me screamed that I would regret this later, as I did the last time.

My heart raced in my slowly heaving chest as his mouth drew nearer. In an instant, I damned the consequences and closed the distance myself.

The kiss was immediate and hungry. I grabbed him by the collar, tipping my head and matching the tilt of his.

His tongue slid against mine, slow at first, then deeper, claiming the inside of my mouth like he already owned it.

A soft sound escaped me. He answered with a low rumble in his chest and pulled me flush against him. He devoured my lips with intense fervor, his arm banding around my waist so there was no space left between us.

I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. Not after I felt the print of his erection on my belly.

My fingers found the buttons of his shirt, struggling to undo them. I worked at them as his hands moved to the back zipper of my gown.

The soft rasp of it unzipping filled the quiet room. He didn’t wait for the fabric to fall. His palms slid up over the bodice, cupping my breasts through the ivory silk and lace, squeezing with just enough pressure to make my breath catch.

I felt every cell in my body come alive.

When the buttons refused to cooperate, something inside me snapped. I gripped the fabric and yanked it hard, forcing the threads to pop. Buttons scattered across the floor with small, sharp sounds.

We both froze for a second, breathing hard, staring at the small white discs on the carpet.

His eyes were shining with sheer desire, like he couldn’t wait to bury himself deep inside me.

Then his mouth was back on mine, hotter than before.

He tugged the upper part of the gown down my arms. The material pooled at my waist, leaving me in the thin lace bra.

His hands returned to my breasts, kneading them over the lace. My nipples hardened under his palms. A soft, involuntary sound left my throat. My eyes fluttered half-shut, heat pooling low in my stomach, sharp and insistent.

I reached for his belt, and the leather slipped free easily. My fingers popped the button on his trousers and slid my hand inside, past the waistband of his underwear.

My fist closed around him. Thick. Hard. Already fully aroused. I stroked him slowly from base to tip, feeling the heat of him against my palm, and a low curse left his mouth against my lips.

“Fuck.”

He unhooked my bra with one practiced motion, and the lace fell away. Cool air touched my skin for only a second before his hands replaced it, bare now, squeezing and rolling my nipples between his fingers.

Pleasure shot straight down my spine, my head tipping back in ecstasy. I bit my lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

He leaned down and took one breast in his mouth, sucking and twirling his tongue around my peak. While at that, he was simultaneously caressing the other boob.

I shoved at his chest, something primal rising within me. It was as though my body was taken over by a version of me I didn’t know existed. Bold. Viscous.

He let himself fall backward onto the bed. I climbed over him, straddling his hips, and kissed him again—deeper, messier.

My hair fell around us like a curtain. I reached between us, freed his cock completely, and stroked him while I held his gaze. The look on his face—jaw tight, eyes dark, the muscle in his cheek jumping—made something reckless unfurl inside me.

He stared at me like he couldn’t recognize the woman on top of him. And it wasn’t just him. I couldn’t recognize her either.

I shifted my soaked panties to the side, guiding him to my wet entrance. Slowly, I sank down, my eyes still locked on his face.

The stretch was familiar now, but still intense. I took him inch by inch until he was fully seated inside me.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered almost to himself without tearing his gaze off me.

The words sent shivers down my spine as I began caressing my own body. A shaky breath left my lungs, and soon, my hands were braced on his chest.