Page 33 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

My dress is riding up over my thighs and his hands are hot on my skin.

His touch drifts beneath my skirt, up over my hips as he pushes me down harder against his cock.

Our lips are locked together, my hands around his neck as I kiss him harder, fierce and angry. It’s as though all my frustration is coming out of me in the most passionate way possible.

He grabs a handful of my hair and tilts my head backwards. His lips brush across my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I shudder with pleasure as he trails kisses along my skin.

My nails dig into him, my pussy throbbing as I rock my hips back and forth on top of him.

I’m nervous—to have sex for the first time—but I am more than ready.

I am desperate for him.

I’ve never felt like this for any other man—and I don’t want to stop what is about to happen.

He pushes me slightly back and tugs his belt open. I bite my lower lip as I stare into his eyes.

Sudden loud snaps of sound shockwave through the air and I let out a sharp scream as something slams into the window of the car.

Oleg lifts me, throwing me onto the seat next to us and covering my body with his.

The driver rolls down the privacy window and shouts back to us, “We’re taking fire!” The security guard next to him is busy cocking his gun, preparing to fire back.

I scream again as more thunderous sounds burst into the air around us and thud against the window.

“It’s bulletproof, Raisa. We’ll be ok,” Oleg says against my ear, cradling me in his arms.

“Get us out of here now!” he shouts to the driver.

The limo swerves and skids over the road as we turn corners at a speed I don’t even want to guess. I keep my face buried against Oleg’s chest and my eyes squeezed tightly closed. My heart is beating so fast all I can hear is the drum of it in my ears.

I want to cry and scream at the same time, I am so terrified.

Oleg doesn’t let me go, not even for a moment.

The car chase continues for far too long and we take a few more bullets, which slam against the side of the car but never break through.

In the front, the driver and his security guy are both shooting back.

The limo skids around another corner and I hear a loud crash as something happens to the other car.

“He’s rolled!” the driver shouts. We accelerate forward and all I can hear now is the growl of the engine as we race away.

Oleg holds me for a few minutes longer, then pulls me back to look at my face. Embarrassingly, my cheeks are stained with tears.

“Raisa, are you ok?” he asks. But all I can do is stare at him.

“Raisa,” he says more sharply, shaking me slightly.

I stammer, “I’m—I’m ok.”

“Good.” He looks up towards the driver as he pulls me onto his lap. “Take us to the safe house.”

He cradles me on his lap and I curl up in his arms, not caring about anything other than how safe he is making me feel right now. My heart won’t stop going crazy and tears are still streaming down my cheeks.

I have never been more scared in my life.

I’ve never felt like I was about to die—that was too much.

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