Page 30 of Caught By the Bratva Beast

“I'm not going to pick either.” She slides down from the tree slowly, holding onto the branches, she lowers her body. Her breasts press against my chest as she lets herself down, and my hands grab her waist to steady her. When she's standing on the ground, she's still glued against me, her hands on my chest.

“You're very beautiful,” I say, voice soft as I look down at her.

She may be one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Her hair hangs loose and wild around her but there are leaves trapped in the waves.

Her cheeks are flushed with the exertion of running and climbing. There's something so free about her. It draws me in, making me wish that we never had to leave this place, that we could live in this moment forever. And it is only then that I realized that I'm becoming a sap, just like the other men in my family.

Just for this one woman.

Pearl's fingers curl on my chest like she's trying to hold onto me. “What do you think you're doing?”

My gaze drops to her full lips as her tongue darts out to wet the bottom lip. “What do you think I'm doing?”

“Contract.” She says the word like it will construct a brick wall between us and shove me back several feet.

“No contract. Not about this.” I turn, pressing her between me and the tree behind us. “There isn't a single line in the contract about me tasting you. Memorizing the feeling of your lips on mine. Stealing your breath until you're begging me for more.”

Her nipples pebble through the thin shirt she wears, pressing against my chest, and it's then that I close the distance between us.

As I trace the seam of her lips, her hands push flat against my chest, almost like an attempt to push me back. She could if she wants to. And I love that she doesn’t. I want her to feel how my heart beats for her. I want her to feel what I feel.

Groaning, I press harder into her. All I can think about is what I would like to do once I get my hands on her perfect body, tracing every curve. I'd commit each touch, each glancing kiss to memory.

She sighs, her lips parting and I take the opportunity to delve into her mouth, my tongue tangling with hers as I reach for the hem of her shirt.

The shirt is nothing more than a thin slip of material that rips beneath my grasp. Her loud moan echoes off the trees around us as she presses her chest in my hands.

I slip my thigh between her legs, smirking again into the kiss when she starts rubbing against me.

My teeth graze against her skin as I kiss my way across her cheek and down the curve of her jaw. I suck her pulse as it pounds, leaving a mark for all those who see her to know that she's taken.

Until it fades, every time she looks in the mirror, she's going to have to think of me.

A soft little mewl comes from her mouth as I cup her breasts, thumbs drifting over her nipples. Her back arches into my touch, as she grinds against my thigh.

“Oh,” she moans, her voice a soft sigh. I unbutton the front of her shorts and slip my fingers into her silky panties.

I brace myself with one arm above her on the trunk of the tree, leaning into her and looking down. She meets my gaze, looking at me drunkenly as I slip my fingers along her soaking wet slit.

“You're so ready for me. You want me. Same way I want you.” I growl.

My Russian member strains against the front of my pants, pressing forward, trying to get to her. I'm aching to bury myself in her heat until I don't know where I start, and she ends.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Pearl mumbles, her voice soft as her hands harden against my chest. “I can't do this.”

As soon as the words out of her mouth. I remove my hand from her shorts and step back. “We don't have to do this right now.”

I take a step back, putting more distance between us and trying not to feel the sharp sting of dejection that slaps across my face at her words.

Before I brought her here, she said that she wasn't going to sleep with me. I knew that and I was fine with it at the time.

Now after feeling her grind against me and moan for my touch, I don't think I can forget it. I don't think I’ll be able to just let this go. Respecting her is one thing, but forgetting the way she felt beneath my hands is another.

Pearl's eyes are glassy as she steps toward me, her hand outstretched before it falls to her side. “I'm sorry I—I just can't.”

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. Let's go back to the house.”

We walk together back to the blanket, gathering it up before heading toward the house. Not a word is said between the two of us, and for that I'm thankful.

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