Page 69 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

I must not allow myself to think anything of this. It is what it is.

It isn’t love.

That’s for sure.

My heart clenches and I bite my lip.It isn’t love, Ruslana.

Beneath the table Avraam brushes his hand over my leg, gently caressing me, then pulls me closer next to him.

“I like having you right next to me. Don’t sit so far away,” he says sternly.

I grin, picking up an oyster. “Do you know what they say about oysters?” I say, slipping it into my mouth.

Instead of focusing on what my heart feels, I should focus on what my body wants. And my body wants him. If this is just lust that’s fine with me, but I am going to take full advantage of that.

Avraam chuckles, a warm laugh that rumbles from his chest.

“I don’t need oysters when I’m around you, that’s for sure.” He runs his hand up my back and it sends shivers through me.

All through dinner he is charming, gentle and sweet.

He doesn’t focus only on my sexual flirtations—instead he tells me I’m beautiful, and that he loves spending time with me. He tells me he has never felt this comfortable around anyone before and I continue to slip deeper and deeper into the hole of emotions I’m trying desperately to deny. I’m getting scared about how I am ever going to claw my way out when he is done with me—when all of this is over, and I am left with a brokenheart and tears in my eyes—who is going to be there to pick up the shattered pieces of me?

“Dance with me.” His deep voice lures me in, and he stands up, holding his hand out towards me. I place mine in his and he pulls me to my feet, up against his broad, muscular chest.

Brushing his hand over my cheek, he tucks a stray curl behind my ear. “I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. You would understand how incredibly special you are.”

My cheeks blush red, my heart quivering at his words.

I can’t handle this anymore. If I don’t do something I am going to confess any second now. I’ll tell him I’m in love with him and look like a complete idiot.

This is just sex. Wild, passionate, really fun sex. Nothing else.

Slowly, I run my hands down his sides, grinning that naughty smile he recognizes. He knows exactly what’s on my mind, but this time I want to take control.

I drop to my knees in front of him and grab his belt, tugging it open. I want to taste him. I want to tease him as much as he teases me just by being close to me.

I can see his cock pressing against his pants before I tug the zipper down.

“Ruslana—“

His cock jumps free from the restraints of his clothing and I admire it for a moment, licking my lips as I glance up towards him. He is breathing heavily.

Gently I take his cock in my hands and wrap my lips around it and in an instant, whatever he was going to say—he forgets completely and groans loudly, rocking his hips forwardto push deeper into my mouth. I savor the moment, pressing my hands against his hips to stop him from pushing too deep.

His hand wraps around the back of my head and I feel him shudder with pleasure as I suck, back and forth, letting my tongue run over the base of his shaft, over the patterned veins that are throbbing against my mouth.

If our connection is only lust, then I will savor it and enjoy it for what it is.

Sex for me is intimate, but this—this is just pure naughty fun.

Every time I make love to him I get more attached—I can’t do it again.

He can have what he wants. I’ll suck him until he explodes, and he won’t even give it another thought. He will be satisfied and I will have the pleasure of giving him that satisfaction. The more he gives me—the more he makes me feel—the more emotionally attached I become. This is safer for me.

His cock is pulsing in my mouth, I can taste him on my tongue, and he tastes divine.

I wrap my hand around the base of his cock, moving it in the same rhythm I am moving my mouth and he groans louder.

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