Page 29 of Stolen By the Bratva King

His cock burrows deeper, harder, faster inside me. The rhythm is mind-blowing. His shaft rubs against my tender, engorged clit. Every crevice I have is ultra-sensitive. The nerve endings between my legs are soaring with the surreal pleasure.

Electric white streaks of light crackle like fireworks behind my closed eyelids and my body wilts. David makes me cum again, and I’m unable to stop myself from relenting to the pleasure. It rolls through my core, blinding me with its intensity.

“Good girl,” David groans behind me. “Now you have me ready too.”

David’s body shudders on top of me, and I feel him unloading inside of me, pumping his seed deep within me even though we both know we shouldn’t take it this far. It feels so good, so needed to truly relieve the sexual tension between us, so I let it happen.

His hands press against my shoulders as he leans into me. He reaches around and hugs me closer to him, his hand scurrying up my bare stomach, settling with a gentle squeeze against my naked breast.

He groans, then releases a hard exhale that pushes my hair up around my temples. He strokes my hair, moving it off my shoulders. He brushes a tender kiss against the curve of my neck.

“You are so sexy. That was incredible,” he says.

“I feel so relaxed and satisfied now. Jesus, I needed that so badly,” I admit, not afraid to share my post-orgasm emotions with him.

He presses a kiss to the top of my head and slides out of me. He takes my hand and squeezes it, pressing a tender kiss to my temple.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

“Where are you going?” I still need to feel the pressure of his hot skin touching mine, his masculine presence and calloused fingers hard and rough on my body.

“To get a towel to clean you up, sexy girl. I’ll be right back, I promise. I’ll never leave a naked woman who looks as good as you alone for very long.”

As I stand beside the table, still leaning for it on wobbly knees, still needing its support to stay upright, I wonder how many more promises this Russian bratva boss will give me. I also wonder just how many of them I’ll believe.

Hormones, emotions and attraction are making me dizzy. My head is delirious with post-sex bliss. I need to focus on what’s important.

Ultimately, getting the story is what really matters, but I also need to be careful that I come out of this job unscathed, both mentally and physically.

In the back of my mind, I know I’m in charge of my own future, but I’m weak when it comes to David, and I fear we both know it.

12

David

“You need to get out of the house,” I say, entering the kitchen.

Hazel is sitting at the table with her laptop open, fingers clicking away at the keys. She eyes me with a guarded expression, all the lust and glamour of our earlier sex-session evaporated from her face and her demeanor.

“What are you working on?” I ask.

She frowns and returns her gaze to the laptop screen. “Oh, just some research.”

“Well, we need to get out for a little while,” I say, but I have an ulterior motive. I need to check on the equipment at the warehouse and make sure it’s operating smoothly.

“Where?” Her brows furrow.

“To the warehouse I own,” I tell her.

This statement gets her eyes to light up. “Really? You want to take me with you?”

“You’re a journalist, aren’t you? Don’t you need some field research? Don’t you want to succeed in your career? What can you possibly get out of sitting here at my kitchen table?” I stand inches from her.

Immediately, the enthusiasm on her face dissolves and she leans away from me, shifting her eyes out the window, but she can’t hide the wounded expression as well as she thinks she is.

I pull out a chair and the legs scrape across the marble. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

She looks at me with a flat expression and I know she’s put her walls back up. “It would be great if you wouldn’t tell me how to do my own job.”

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