Page 61 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

I arched into him, moaning like an uncontrollable animal in heat when he took a nipple between his teeth, pulled, and sucked hard like a maniac.

“Do you like it?”

I wanted to say no, but my mouth seemed to be having thoughts of its own. “Yes. Yes—God, I do.”

He gave both breasts attention, moving from one to the other with equal concentration. And I felt the push driving me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff. But I wasn’t going to falluntil I had him buried deep inside of me. Until I had him right where I thought he belonged.

When he moved his lips back to mine, I thought I was spent. Until he dragged down the zipper of my jeans, dropping to his haunches to help me peel them off.

I kicked off the denim, but Rafayel didn’t get up.

My eyes grew a fraction wider when I realized what he was doing. Before I could pull him back up, he was kissing his way up, biting the spot between my thighs to make me spread my legs, and when I did, he threw one of my legs over his shoulder to support me and allowed his mouth to linger just below my thong. It was thin enough, barely covering my essentials.

So, when his smiling eyes met mine, I knew what he saw—how soaking wet my pussy was. For him.

He slipped a finger to move the thin rope aside, and his mouth instantly went in for the kill.

My head flew back against the bookshelf, and my eyes rolled.

Holy shit.

This man and his tongue. There was no doubt now that he knew how to use it. I slid my fingers into his hair, rolling my hips and making all sorts of funny, embarrassing noises while he ate me out and lapped up my juices.

From my view, the only thing I could see was the satisfaction on his face, with his eyes closed and his head bobbing up and down.

My chest flared with more heat. Who would have thought I’d find a view like that so unbearably hot?

I swear I tried to hold on. I tried so hard not to fall off the cliff, but I hit my climax anyway, shattering over his mouth in less than five minutes.

Rafayel pulled back with his lips still wet with my juices and rose to his feet. With his eyes never leaving mine, he moved his hand to the rope holding his sweatpants together. But I reached forward, stopping him.

I wanted to do this. And thankfully, he didn’t stop me.

Tentatively, I released the ropes and slowly pushed the downy material and his boxer briefs lower, below his hips. My mouth watered when his cock sprang out, and the pulse between my legs throbbed with more intensity.

Rafayel was staring at me with an unreadable emotion, and even that was so frigging hot. He leaned forward, brushing my hair away from my face, as he hoisted my other leg from the ground so I straddled his waist.

He kissed me cautiously. Then softly. And I kissed him back, snaking my fingers into his hair—because I loved the feel of his hair between my fingers.

Knowing how hard he was for me, despite everything, made me want to apologize with his cock in my mouth, or better still, inside me. I wanted to do things to him that scared me. And this crash of emotions flew out of my mouth in three simple words.

“I hate you.”

Growling, he murmured something intelligible against my lips and sunk his cock into me. “I hate you, too.”

I gasped, raising my hips and spreading my legs wider to accommodate the size of him. My body hummed for more. My heart soared. It felt liberating. Did I mention that he felt so good? If yes, then I didn’t think I’d said it enough.

“You annoy the hell out of me.”

“I know. I like seeing you all hot and bothered,”he said in Russian.

When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me with his lips curved to the side. He knew. The bastard! All this time,he knew I understood him. I didn’t know when he’d found out, but…that was beside the point.

Rafayel didn’t give me any time to react. He wedged his cock like a weapon and slammed into me with more force than I ever thought I could handle.

My fingernails dug into his back. And he fucked me hard and fast.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” More Russian. “Say my name.”

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