Page 30 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
I wrapped my leg around his hip to grind against the hard shaft that throbbed against my middle. His fingers teased me mercilessly, not giving me what I wanted, needed, so, so badly.
“Kolya,” I said fiercely, shoving away from him with the flat of my hands against his chest.
He shook his head. “I can’t stop this time, little girl.”
I tried to shake his shoulders. He was as sturdy as a boulder, as fearsome as a wolf staring down at me. “I don’t want you to,” I panted. “I want—”
He kissed me again, lifting me up and carrying me over to where I’d left a loveseat and a thick, woolly rug when I cleared most of the room for my art supplies. Wrapping both legs around him now, I ground against his washboard abs and that steel rod pulsing beneath his pants.
Deciding the loveseat was too small, he laid me out on the rug and shoved my dress up my thighs. Gripping my legs, he flung them over his shoulders and dove between them. A growl rose up from the wads of my white linen dress, a pressure against the sodden fabric of my panties that had me crying out. For more.
“You’re so damn wet,” he murmured.
With a jerk of his wrist, my panties were torn and shoved aside. He pushed my legs further toward my chest, pushing histongue deep inside me. I shivered from how good it felt, and then froze when he found my swollen nub. Gripping handfuls of his glossy raven hair, I cried out, bucking my hips as he circled and lapped at me.
This was better than the gift, better than the compliments. This was what I’d been craving for days, no matter how I tried to pretend otherwise. Soon, I was shaking under the onslaught of his mouth, that expert mouth. He only stopped when my arms were limp, falling from his hair. He released my legs and fell on top of me.
Wrapping my arms around him, I felt his cock still pulsing against me. I was spread open, soaking wet from his mouth and my own desire. And suddenly scared half to death.
“I’m a virgin,” I whispered.
He chuckled, kissing my neck. “Do you think I don’t know that?”
I wanted to be offended, but was more relieved he didn’t care. He was older than me, so much more experienced in everything. I couldn’t take it if he dismissed me as a child and decided I wasn’t worth the bother of teaching. I writhed underneath him, already wanting more.
Slowly, so slowly, he pushed himself up and began undoing the buttons down the front of my dress. When they were all open, he pulled me to him and eased the rumpled fabric up and over my head. With a snap of his fingers behind my back, my lacy bra fell open. The straps slid down my shoulders, and he whipped them across the room with the rest of my clothes.
“That’s not really fair, is it?” I asked, fighting the burst of shyness that warred with the pride I felt as his eyes roamed my body like I was a masterpiece.
With shaky hands, I started on the buttons on his shirt. After a second, he grew impatient, ripping it open and shrugging out of it. Standing up, he was out of his pants in no time.
Holy crap.
There was never any denying that Kolya was a handsome man. He was scorching, scalding hot. But that was with his clothes on. Standing before me, naked as a statue in an Italian fountain, he nearly made me faint. So much smooth, tanned skin, that manly smattering of hair on his muscular chest. Those thick, corded thighs. Muscles everywhere, so many muscles. And then…
I reached for his cock, bouncing straight out in front of him as he lowered himself back down to me on the rug. I savored his groan as I gripped the silky smooth shaft and began to stroke.
“My beautiful little bride,” he said in a choked voice. “Nat. Nataliye. You’re killing me.”
Funny, that was the last thing I wanted to do just then. I reached for his face, running my palm over the hard planes of his cheekbones and jaw. Like a beacon, I was drawn to his lips, mine parting as he leaned closer to me. The kiss was sweet, tender, deep as a bottomless well. But not for long.
Soon, I was panting for him again, for all of him. Every last inch.
“I want you so many ways,” he said against my neck, pulling my leg to wrap around him.
“I’m right here,” I told him. “Let’s get started.”
He laughed, the sound vibrating against my lips. “My fiery little girl,” he growled, guiding his cock to my slick opening. He groaned. “So damn perfect.”
I loved that he thought so, that I believed him, positive that this was the truth, if nothing else. God, it felt good. It really, really felt good as he teased me with his velvety tip. Then rammed in, smooth and hard, holding steady after my brief gasp of pain.
“More,” I told him, grabbing his head for another kiss.
“Everything,” he said.
Within minutes, I screamed, holding tight and pressing every inch of my body against his. Sweat dripped between us, a drop rolled from his hairline down the side of his face, and I licked it away. He laughed, pounding deeper and harder as I screamed again. I was lost, floating and still holding on to his hard, muscular shoulders, never wanting it to end, but unsure how much more I could take before I disintegrated in this fevered passion.
He slid his hand between our slippery bodies to find my swollen nub again, driving me further than I ever dreamed possible, dragging out another shout. He joined in this time, roaring my name like a prayer to some ancient, wild goddess. Collapsing against me, our breath coming in ragged bursts, he groaned against my shoulder, then kissed my neck.
