Page 12 of Forced Bratva Bride

We turn towards the crowd, and I smile, as I am supposed to do.

It is time to celebrate. The reception is waiting for us, and a very long night of wearing this forced smile. I already feel tired, and drained, and want it all to be over.

Chapter 5 - Maxim

I can still feel the kiss on my lips as we navigate the reception, my eyes constantly on Chiara in that dress that makes her look like a goddess and teases me in unexpected ways.

That kiss was much more than I was intending for it to be, but as soon as I pulled her against me, my body took over and I lost control of myself. It was as though the entire world faded away with her body touching mine, and her lips, so soft and luscious, took me to a different universe.

Now, I can’t stop wondering, if just one kiss can make me feel so alive, what will it be like to have her whole body? Her naked, heated skin beneath my hands, to hear the sounds she makes as I bury myself inside her.

She moves through the different groups of people, as graceful as ever, and displaying etiquette far beyond her years. She is made for this. Trained, created to be the perfect hostess. But, at the same time, I smirk, because if someone has something stupid to say, she cuts them off with such sharp wit that it leaves them blinking and stunned.

“A girl should not study business economics; I imagine it would be completely wasted.”

“I studied business economics,” she replies curtly. She is speaking to one of my family's allies, a strong force in the business world, and not someone I would want to upset, as our partnership is a good one.

“And? Don’t you regret it, now? Doesn’t it feel like a waste of time, seeing as you were never going to actually use the degree. I guess you’ve had your adventure, gotten that out of your system, and now you can begin your real life as a wife and a mother.”

“My real life? Are you suggesting that a woman isn’t living her ‘real’ life unless she is married with kids?” she says, her tone sharpening.

This is not going to go well. I can already feel the tension growing between the two of them.

I know the type of man she is talking about. His generation is set in an older world with outdated thought patterns. Basically, he is a misogynistic asshole, but he has a good heart, despite the ridiculous shit he is saying to her right now.

“I think it is refreshing to see a lady as young as yourself embracing her true, natural way of being. To get married, as a priority over everything else. To want to be a wife and mother. It’s a beautiful thing to see. It’s not common these days at all.

You aren’t falling for all of the brainwashing nonsense that society pushes onto young women these days—insisting that they have to think and act like men, working in difficult business positions that they just aren’t cut out for—"

“Are you joking? Do you have any idea how the real world works, or do you live in some chauvinistic—"

I lean forward and grab her waist, pulling her onto my lap.

“Hey, beautiful,” I say loudly, pretending I have no idea what they were talking about. She is about to pull away from me, her eyes still bright with anger from his words.

So I wrap my hand around the back of her neck and press my lips against hers again.

I can feel her ass on my lap, my arm still around her slender waist. My lips are hot against hers, and I slip my tongue into her mouth as she begins to respond to my kiss.

Her hands wrap around my neck, and she pulls me tighter against her, fueling my own fire, as much as I think I'm fueling hers.

The kiss worked, and the building confrontation is fading away into the backs of our minds, but now I can’t stop kissing her. In a room full of people, my cock is growing hard as her body presses into my lap. She can feel it too, and she rocks slightly over me, knowing she is teasing me.

When my cock is so hard that it begins to throb, pressing up against the material of my pants and rubbing against her ass, she leans back and stares into my eyes.

The grin that spreads across her face is a dark one as she moves to stand up.

My eyes shoot wide, knowing that the evidence of what she has done to me is not something I can hide.

She slips off my lap, and I quickly pull my chair closer to the table, pretending to reach for my drink. Her fingers trail across my shoulders, and glances down at me,grinning and saying loudly, “Why don’t you stand up and come dance with me, husband? I think it is time for our first dance, as husband and wife?”

“I think you should ask the DJ to play something slower, my love,” I reply, sipping my whiskey.

She tilts her head, and the naughty expression on her face makes me want to throw her over the table and fuck her in front of everyone.

The music changes, and the lights dim. It is time for our first dance, but my body has not calmed down yet.

Luckily, the lights grow even darker, and a spotlight falls on the dance floor. I stand up and grab her waist, pulling her in front of me as we walk toward it.

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