Page 6 of Dark Obsession

It’s exactly what I’ve been wanting for far too long.

Chapter 3

Elena

The kiss is long, deep, and hungry, all of the pent-up tension between us finally unleashed. His hands move to my waist, strong and commanding, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us.

I’ve soaked through my panties, the heat of his body igniting something primal within me. He holds me possessively like he’s staking a claim.

God, I love it.

He tastes like salt and danger, a hint of smoke from the madness earlier, and something uniquely him, something that makes me want more. His lips are rough, demanding, and every swipe of his tongue against mine sends another wave of heat coursing through me.

But then he pulls back, breathless, staring at me like he’s trying to make sense of what just happened. His brow furrows, and for a split second, I think he’s going to stop.

Not a chance.

I smirk, my lips still tingling from the kiss. “What’s wrong? You too scared to finish what you started?”

A low laugh rumbles from his chest, his eyes dark with intent. “Scared? I’ve been wanting to punish that attitude of yours for a long time.”

I raise an eyebrow, biting my lip. “Well, now’s your chance.”

He doesn’t waste a second. His mouth crashes against mine again, rougher this time. We’re clawing at each other’s clothes, hands everywhere, desperate for skin. He slides the straps of my dress down my shoulders, letting the silky fabric fall to the floor. I yank off his leather jacket and tug at the hem of his T-shirt, needing to feel every inch of him.

Finally.

I yank his shirt over his head, exposing the scars he usually keeps hidden. His left arm, shoulder, and part of his chest and back are marked by fine burn scars that ripple across his skin, the lasting evidence of the explosion he survived when he was eighteen. The fire nearly killed him but he’s a survivor, tougher than steel.

I take a moment to admire his powerful, muscular body. His broad chest, the tattoos inked into his skin, all symbols of the Bratva, of loyalty, of the life we both live. He’s a living weapon, and right now, every inch of him is mine.

His hand slips between my thighs, fingers pressing against my pussy through the soaked fabric of my thong. I gasp, a moan slipping from my lips as I realize this is actually happening. His touch is firm and controlled, teasing me in a way that drives me absolutely wild.

My hips arch instinctively into his hand, and I grip his shoulders, nails digging into his scarred skin, needing more.

Grigori’s fingers move with purpose, skilled and deliberate, as he presses his thumb against my clit, rubbing slow, maddening circles. My breath hitches, and I can barely form a thought beyond how good it feels. His eyes lock on mine, dark and full of heat, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You’ve been teasing me for years, princess,” he growls. “Now, it’s my turn.”

He hooks a finger around the fabric of my thong, ripping it off. The cold air kisses my wet skin for a moment before his finger slips inside. I moan, my head falling back, the sensation overwhelming. His thumb continues its relentless pressure on my clit, every stroke sending shockwaves through me.

“You like that?” he asks, his lips brushing against my ear. “You’re soaked. You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I manage, my body trembling against his. He’s right. I’ve wanted this for so long and now that it’s happening, it’s like every touch, every movement, is lighting me on fire.

“Good girl,” he mutters, sliding another finger inside, curling them just right. “I’m gonna make you come so hard you won’t be able to stand.”

I’m already close, the tension building with every thrust of his fingers. My moans grow louder, and I press my body tighter against his, desperate for more, needing everything he’s giving me.

It doesn’t take long before I shatter, the orgasm ripping through me, my body trembling against him. He doesn’t stop, not untilthe last wave fades. His lips crash into mine again, hungry and fierce, and I can’t get enough.

He guides me toward the couch, his hands firm on my hips as he turns me around and puts me on all fours. I’m still reeling from the first orgasm, but the way he touches me, the way he commands me, has me eager for so much more.

Grigori kneels behind me, every touch leaving my skin tingling, my body alive with anticipation. I hear the sound of his zipper, and I glance back, stealing a look.

Goddamn.

He’s everything I’ve imagined—long, thick, and hard. And I’ve imagined it more times than I care to admit.

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