Page 47 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

“Genevieve,” I whisper her name like a prayer, sealing my fate. My hands slide down her back, cupping her ass and lifting her up off the ground as I rise from the chair. She wraps her legs around my waist as our kisses become more urgent, fueled by the raw need coursing through our veins.

“Take me inside,” she pleads, her eyes burning with unspoken desire.

I carry her through the doorway and into the bedroom, our lips never parting. The anticipation builds as we cross the threshold, our movements becoming more frenzied. As I lower her onto the bed, her hair fans out across the pillows like a halo of golden silk. She looks up at me with those deep green eyes, and I swear I’ve never seen a woman more beautiful.

Her body is a masterpiece laid out before me, her curves accentuated by the dim light filtering through the curtains. I can’t help but marvel at the fact that this beautiful woman has chosen me—a man who’s spent his life in darkness—to be her first.

“Are you sure about this?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. It’s crucial she knows that she holds the power here despite my usual dominance.

“More than anything,” she responds softly, her eyes never leaving mine.

With her consent, I lean down and capture her lips, our mouths moving together in a tender dance. Slowly, I reach down to her skirt and fumble with the hook and zip. I stop kissing her for a brief second to slide it off. She crosses her ankles, looking nervous at how I drink in the sight of her bare, gorgeous, sculpted legs. Then, I move back up and place my finger just where the hem of her shirt flirts with her skin. She gasps at my touch, and I slowly inch up the shirt. She puts her arms above her head for me to remove it. I throw it on the floor, and when I look back, she’s lying back on the bed, her arms still resting above her head with her ankles hooked together, in nothing but her bra and panties.

And she’s a vision of ecstasy.

I hungrily take in the sight of her. Her flat but shapely waist, the curves of her hips, the mount of her breasts. My hands roam across her body, taking in every inch of her smooth skin, mapping her like a priceless treasure. I trail kisses down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my lips. Her fingers find their way into my hair, gently tugging and guiding me to the places she wants me most.

“Damien,” she moans, her voice breathy and filled with desire. My name on her lips hits me straight at my cock. I reach her belly and give it a little kiss before moving down. I place my hands on the elastic of her panties and look up at her for assurance.

“Please,” she nods, blushing.

I slowly strip the panties off, gliding them down to her ankles, before discarding them to the floor. I look back up. She’s exquisite—an ethereal angel from a world I don’t deserve to touch. And yet, as I settle between her thighs, she welcomes me with open arms.

Slowly, I part her legs and place my head between them. “I’m going to make this as easy as I can,” I explain. She nods nervously.

I gently lick the full length of her sweet pussy. She’s not wet enough, and I begin to circle my tongue on her clitoris. She gasps and places her hands on my hair, guiding me down. I take a finger to her clit, and slowly lick her center. I begin to dab at it in successive, quick bursts, and she writhes beneath me, her juices flowing down my face.

“Oh, Damien,” she moans. “I want you, and I want you now, please…”

“Let’s just try something a little less hard to take first,” I chuckle, slowly inserting a finger in her. I get in halfway, and her muscles contract against me.

She’s so tight. So, so tight.

Gently, I edge the rest in. “How does that feel?” I ask.

“Like I want more,” she says greedily.

I look up, and our eyes lock, our souls naked and exposed.

She’s nervous. I’m afraid of hurting her.

“You need to be sure,” I whisper, my fingers tracing the delicate walls of her clenched pussy. “This is your first time, and I won’t have you regretting it.”

She swallows hard, her fingers threading through my hair. “With you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I trust you. Please, Damien. Just give it to me.”

Her words, her surrender, hit me like a sucker punch to the gut. I’ve never felt this way before. This woman, with her innocence and audacity, has shattered my control. I pull my finger out and get above her, placing my cock at her entrance.

“Remember, if you feel any discomfort or want to stop, just tell me,” I remind her gently, my eyes locked on hers.

“Of course,” she whispers, her voice laced with trust. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

With that assurance, I press forward slowly, entering her with measured precision. Her breathing races as I breach her barrier, and for a moment, I worry that I’ve hurt her. I pray that I don’t make her bleed too much. Her eyes remain locked on mine, filled with determination and an unspoken plea to continue.

“Genevieve… are you okay?” I ask, my voice cracking with emotion.

“Yes,” she replies softly, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Don’t stop, Damien.”

With her words as my fuel, I push forward, taking her virginity as I go. She lets out a soft moan, her body tensing momentarily before she relaxes. I pause for a moment, giving her time to adjust to the sensation of me inside her. I can feel her muscles clenching around me, and she feels tight, warm, cozy, like home.

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