Page 43 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

The intimacy of this new position makes me blush furiously. I’ve never had a man go down on me. I don’t know if I’m to do something or nothing. I don’t know whether he’d enjoy it. All these questions swirl in my head, and I clamp up.

“Relax, Sweetheart,” Damien murmurs, gently caressing the curve of my ass. “Just let your legs loose; give me some space to work.”

My breath catches in my throat, and I think I loosen up my legs, but evidently, I don’t, for he reaches over and gently caresses my chin. “Look at me,” he commands.

I open my eyes and look down, feeling hot and embarrassed. He’s looking up at me with eager eyes like I’m the most delicious thing he’s going to taste.

“Trust me,” he nods, his eyes still on me. “I’ll make it worth all this time you’ve waited.”

I realize now that he’s figured it out. Damien’s steady gaze encourages me to let go of my inhibitions. I nod and close my eyes. I take a deep breath and loosen up.

His tongue then makes its way to my most intimate place, and I can feel the heat between my legs rising, the fire spreading across my entire body. His tongue glides over me, exploring and discovering every inch. I close my eyes, tempted to arch my back and beg for more, but I keep myself in control.

I open my eyes again to find Damien looking up at me, a devilish grin forming on his face. His eyes are turbulent, like the ocean, a mix of lust and tenderness. “You taste like honey,” he whispers, hitting me with another smirk. I roll my eyes and bite my lip in an attempt to remain calm.

He’s devouring every inch of me, his skilled lips and tongue exploring each curve and ridge, driving me wild with desire. I moan softly, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pleasures me, my hips bucking against his mouth in a silent plea for more.

“I can’t take much more of this,” I whisper, my voice shaking with wanton desperation.

He chuckles against me, the vibrations humming through my body in a way that makes me moan even louder. My breath catches as his tongue teases my entrance before swirling around my clit in slow, deliberate motions. Self-consciousness dissolves into ecstasy, my body trembling with pleasure.

“Damien... oh God,” I gasp, my mind unable to form coherent thoughts as waves of euphoria crash over me. Each lick, each flick of his skilled tongue, pushes me closer to the brink.

“Let go, Genevieve. Let me take you there,” Damien urges softly, before he licks the length of my pussy, and begins slamming his tongue into my clit. His words, combined with his relentless attention, send me spiraling toward an explosive climax.

My legs begin to clench and quiver. I feel my muscles contract against his tongue, but he keeps at it. My eyes are closed, and I’m floating, and this small tickle takes form between my legs before spreading like fire down my thighs, my calves, up my belly, and across my back. I shake, shiver, tremble, and I feel something I’ve never felt before. Something I could never put into words.

“Damien!” I cry out at last, forgetting to breathe. By the time this insane wave of pleasure washes over me, I sit there breathless.

“Are you alright?” Damien asks tenderly, concern etched in his eyes as I slide off his lap, still shaking from the aftershocks of my orgasm.

“Better than alright,” I manage to say, laughing breathlessly. “You... you’re incredible.”

“Only the best for my wife,” he replies with a smirk, his fingers brushing a stray curl away from my face.

The way he says wife makes me want to claim him even more. I yearn for him like I’ve never yearned a thing before. As I gaze into his smoldering eyes, I find myself reaching for the waistband of his trousers, desperate to free him from the confines of his clothing.

But, to my disappointment, he stops me.

“Genevieve, wait,” he murmurs, his strong hands gripping my wrists gently but firmly. Confusion clouds my lust-addled brain, and a flicker of insecurity creeps into my heart. Was I too forward? Did I misread his intentions?

“Did I... do something wrong?” I ask hesitantly, searching his face for any indication that I’ve crossed a line.

His lips curl into a playful grin as he shakes his head. “No, not at all. But we need to slow down, just for a moment.” He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, reassuring me as his thumb rubs soothing circles along my wrist.

“Trust me, there’s nothing I want more than to be with you completely,” he confesses, his voice low and full of longing. “But not here. Not like this. Someone could see us.”

“But someone could have seen us doing what we did, too, couldn’t they have?” I fight back, annoyed.

He looks surprised but chuckles. “Well, true. But you needed to forget how scared you were, and I calmed you down, didn’t I?”

He proceeds to give me a cheeky wink.

I slap his chest playfully, my face flushed with both excitement and unrequited desire for more. But he’s right. We can’t sit in this car and keep doing what we’re doing.

I slide off him, and he hands me my shirt. I put it on, and he leans over to tug my seatbelt into place.

“Thanks,” I roll my eyes at him. Like I couldn’t put my seat belt on myself?

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