Page 66 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
I kiss her again, harder this time, my palms clutching the back of her neck, my thumbs caressing her jawline. The heat between us flares, and I reach for her shirt with greedy hands, sliding it over her head.
I gasp and pull back when I notice she isn’t wearing a bra.
“You’ve been walking around the house like that?” I growl, unable to help the possessiveness thrumming through me, even while my eyes drink in the sight of her naked breasts.
“Doctor’s orders,” she says with a wicked grin. “I have no time to dress fully with a patient to attend.”
“Is that so?” I trail my fingers down her throat, across her collarbone, to cup one breast. “And what’s the medical justification for this?”
Her head falls back as I brush my thumb across her nipple. “Keeping your heart rate up. It’s... therapeutic.”
I laugh and dip my head low, nibbling at her neck.
She’s now tugging at my sweatpants, pushing them down my hips, and then I pull back as her hands slide my t-shirt over my body until I stand naked before her.
Only fair, since she’s alreadyhalf-bare.
“Get the water running,” she urges, and I step back to turn on the shower. When I look back, she’s stepped out of her cotton shorts, and my greedy eyes lap up the swell of her breasts, the tapering at her waist, the flare of her hips.
God, if she could see herself the way I do.
“You’re beautiful,” I whisper, giving out my hand.
She blushes as she takes it. “Shut up and get in the shower,” she tries to deflect from the compliment.
I smile and pull her in with me, making sure she gets most of the warm water. The water cascades over her hair, plastering it to her breasts. Rivulets run down her body, tracing paths I want to follow with my tongue.
“Turn around,” she requests softly, and I turn to face the wall as she takes some soap and begins to lather my shoulders and back, massaging the tension from my muscles.
“Christ, that feels good,” I groan as her thumbs dig into a knot at the base of my spine.
“You’re tight everywhere,” she murmurs, working her way lower. “Must be from lying in bed for days.”
Her hands skim my ass, my thighs, and I have to brace myself against the wall to keep from turning and pinning her against it. She’s being gentle with me, a littletoogentle.
When she’s all done, I turn and pour some body wash into my own hands. I begin to glide over her shoulders and move lower, cupping her breasts. I watch how her nipples pucker as my thumbs circle them, and my cock begins to twitch, to harden. Her breath hitches, her eyes fluttering closed.
“Like that?” I ask.
“Mmm,” is all she manages, arching into my touch.
I continue downward, over the soft plane of her stomach, the curve of her hips.
And then, I get on my knees, my hands gripping her hips. Her eyes blast open as I begin to slide my hands down the inside of her thighs.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice breathy. “Your injuries—”
“I’m fine,” I assure her, pressing a kiss to her hip bone. “Besides, it’s my turn to take care of you.
She opens her mouth to protest, but the words die as I guide one of her legs over my shoulder, opening her to me. I look up, meeting her gaze through the spray of water, and then I lean forward and taste her.
She gasps, her hands flying to the wall behind her for support. I take my time lapping her up, my tongue gliding back and forth with soft strokes. Her fingers tangle in my wet hair, pulling just enough to send sparks down my spine.
“Ilariy,” she pants, her head falling back against the tiles.
I slip one finger inside her, then two, curling them as I continue to work her with my tongue. Her walls clench around me, and I groan against her, making her cry out.
“Oh god,” she moans, her hips rocking against my mouth.
