Page 7 of Virgin Bratva Prisoner

Chapter 3 - Oleg

I hold back the growl of satisfaction that almost escapes me as her body presses against mine. The curve of her back just beneath my hand, my arm wrapped around her narrow waist. She fits against me like she belongs here in my arms.

I want to deny it, but I’m actually struggling with just how strong the attraction I feel towards her is. There is something electric between us that has charged the air with static. It feels dangerous and tempting at the same time.

She is an enigma pulling me in and I am trying to pretend that it is nothing but intrigue. A shallow curiosity, born of necessity.

It was easier to pretend this afternoon, when she was some distance away from me. When I was watching quietly from the sidelines, plotting and planning.

Now I am closer to her and feeling her presence more intimately. Watching her had me on the edge of my seat—touching her is a completely different game. I want to know everything about her. I have a possessive urgency to stare right into her soul and read her most intimate secrets.

With her in my arms as we dance to the heavy bass fueled music, my body is betraying me.

She is the flame and I am the moth.

She looks up at me and giggles. Her bright blue eyes are electric, enticing and teasing with one glance.

When the beat slows down, she steps away from me, pushing her hand against my chest, making me wonder what her touch would feel like against my naked skin. An image flashesthrough my mind of her sitting on my lap as I grab her hips and thrust up into her.

I clear my throat and clench my jaw, trying to pull myself together.

“I’m going to get some water,” she says, stepping towards the sofa and reaching for one of the bottles of sparkling water on the table.

Her two friends are making out rather intensely in the corner.

I chuckle.

Young love.

Any love.

They are all so naive. They don’t know what the real world is like. Sometimes I wish for that kind of ignorance—where I could just fall in love—and pretend like nothing else mattered in the world.

Raisa sits down, pulling the edges of her very short black dress down to cover her thighs. It barely helps and my eyes roam freely over her legs.

I take a seat next to her and she immediately shifts over to give me more room which I don’t like.

I resist the urge to pull her back up against me. I don’t want space between us. I want to feel the heat from her body.

“What do you do, Oleg? When you aren’t dancing your nights away?” she asks with a soft smile on her face. Her plump peach-colored lips perfectly outlined against her pale porcelain skin.

We start chatting about life and she mentions she came here to study medicine. She wants to be a doctor.

“That’s why we’re celebrating tonight. We all passed the entrance exam. So, we’ll be studying together.”

“That’s really impressive, Raisa.”

“Thanks.” A wide, genuine smile spreads across her lips.

This definitely means a lot to her. This must be what she was talking to her sister about earlier today.

She wants to start her own practice. But that doesn’t make sense—she came here with her family—to run a business. I know what type of business. Her being a doctor doesn’t really fit in with those plans.

“Your family must be proud of you,” I say, curious and wanting more information about how her brothers feel about her choice.

“Mm.” She shrugs. “Maybe, if I wasn’t hiding it from them, they might be proud, “ she giggles, touched by the tequila. A little more relaxed than normal, but she still appears completely in control of herself.

“Why would you want to hide something like that from them?”

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