Page 48 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

His pupils dilate.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I want you to touch me, Avraam,” I say again, almost breathless with excitement.

He pulls me close again and slowly begins to explore my body with his hands. His touch sending shivers of delight through me, pulsing through my body like a river. When his hand brushes down my thigh and drifts between my legs I gasp and almost collapse against him.

It feels incredible. His touch is like a drug and I can’t get enough of it.

Chapter 15 - Avraam

When she blatantly asks me to touch her, I can’t hold back for another second. She kissed me first and made the first move. It’s obvious I’m not the one who started this—thistime.

I’ve wanted her since the day I carried her into the house. Even though I spent a lot of time denying it, I can openly admit to myself right now that I want this—and now she wants it to.

Her lips are swollen and pink from the kiss. Parted as heavy breaths escape her. Her eyes have a demure hint of mischief when she looks at me.

I run my hands over her body, feeling the curves and soft arches of her ass. Enjoying how she is rubbing herself against me, encouraging me with those little sounds she is making. Soft moans, little gasps and slow easy breaths.

In the back of my mind, there is an alarm going off.

A warning.

Telling me over and over again that she might be tricking me.

This might be an attempt to escape, a way to distract me before she makes a run for it. The warning is looping on repeat and I’m trying to be logical—while my body responds in a very physical way and pushes all logic to the dust.

I have to admit though—I took a huge risk bringing her out here with me today. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to get away. If she wanted to escape—now would be the moment.

I try and focus on how she is behaving. I’m trying to read her, to understand her—to figure out if I am being tricked or not.

She seems lost in me. Completely absorbed by the moment we are sharing.

The way she is moving, and breathing cannot be fake.

The more I watch her, the more I know she isn’t playing games.

She is enjoying this openly and genuinely. She is wildly turned on by me and it’s making my cock even harder to know that.

Watching her enjoy herself is driving me crazy.

I slip my hands under her ass and lift her in my arms, carrying her to the long sofa in my office.

The warning alarms in my mind have been silenced.

All I am focused on now is her—and what I want to do with her.

Standing next to the sofa, we kiss, and I feel her undoing my shirt buttons. My heart races because I know what she wants, and I won’t say no when it goes too far this time.

I tug her clothes off, piece by piece, savoring each glimpse of her body until she is naked in front of me.

I lie her down on the sofa, lowering myself onto her, watching her, enjoying her.

She looks nervous, maybe even a little scared, but she doesn’t look like she wants to stop.

Gently, I push her legs apart and brush my cock over her pussy. She’s soaked. I take a sharp breath in, wanting to thrust into her and fuck her so hard she screams, but I would never do that.

This is her first time.

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