Page 46 of Pregnant Prisoner By the Bratva
“Is that what you tell yourself to justify your arrogance?” He asked, eyes shifting across my face and the cleavage flashing before him.
“Arrogance?” My brows raised as I drew nearer, the air thick with sexual tension. “Oh, honey, what you call arrogance, Icall self-worth.” I halted in front of him, my head tilted upward to look at his face.
He scoffed and rubbed his eyes. “Look, I’m not here to fight.”
“Then what’re you here for, Yulian?”
He held my gaze, desperation flickering in those icy blue eyes boring into mine. I stared back, challenging him with a glare despite my racing heart. He was closer—closer than he was last night—and with the way he looked at me, it was clear that things would escalate soon.
The need in his eyes, the lust and attraction, made my pussy tingle, my nipples hard.
His gaze settled on my cleavage once more, as if drinking in the sight of my gentle swells. Yulian blinked and cleared his throat. “I should go.”
My jaw tightened, a glint of anger mixed with disappointment flashing across my face. “Yeah. You should.”
As I turned around to step away from him, Yulian grasped me by the wrist and pulled me back to him. Before I could speak or even process what was happening, his lips were already crashing against mine. Deep. Hot. Desperate. The kind of kiss that left us both breathless.
I kissed him back, my mouth devouring his, my heart threatening to explode from my chest. His palm smacked my ass, prompting a sweet moan from my lips. Driven by passion and lust, I helped him shed his coat and then struggled with the buttons of his crisp white undershirt.
He smelled so masculine—his cologne mixed with the faint traces of sweat. My patience grew thinner by the second until I could no longer take it.
I snapped, ripping those pesky little buttons off his shirt, and as they scattered across the floor, I felt his hand traveling up my thigh, caressing it.
The kiss deepened.
I ran my hands along his body, palms traveling all over his broad torso, the ridges of his abs firm beneath my fingers. I moaned in his mouth when his fingers slid into my warm, slippery cunt.
“Wet for me already, huh?” he teased, pushing deeper inside me.
“Fuck you, Yulian,” I cussed, looking straight into those lustful eyes of his, mine flashing with need.
His free hand grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled on it, forcing my face upward. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He rubbed my clit with his thumb while simultaneously fingering my pussy.
“Oh, fuck,” I moaned, my body writhing against his, one hand sliding down to his groin.
He was hard in his pants, and the more I stroked the print of his cock, the more I wanted him. I hated how my body betrayed me, how I couldn’t control my emotions.
He lowered his head and planted a kiss on my lips—almost soft and gentle.
I broke it, glaring at him. “Don’t you dare kiss me like you love me….”
“Love you? Oh, please.” He scoffed, his finger traveling far up my pussy.
I moaned, hastily unzipping his pants. “This doesn’t mean all is forgiven. I still hate your guts.” I yanked down his pants enough to access his cock.
“Hate me all you want. But I’ll still be the only one who ever gets this close,” he said, breathless, arrogance lacing his tone.
“Oh, yeah?” I withdrew his cock, stroking the damn thing, fast and passionately. “Then use me if that’s all I am to you. But don’t think you can fuck the guilt away.”
He scoffed, squeezing my breasts. “You sound sexier when you’re mad.”
Yulian whisked me into the air, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; our tongues twirled in our mouths. He headed to the bed and threw me on the mattress. There, he rolled me over, positioning me on all fours.
He yanked up the hem of my dress, pulled down my underpants, and spanked my butt. Hard and delicious.
I let out a throaty moan.
“I want every dirty and furious piece of you,” he said, spanking the other cheek.
