Page 47 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
She looked both utterly at ease and distractingly out of place in the solemn hush of the room. It was like a temptation had wandered into a cathedral.
The scent of her perfume lingered in the air, mixing with the smell of aged paper. The sight of her in that chair—the teasing glimpses of her skin and the elegance she exuded—stirred something primal inside me.
My heart skipped a beat, my gaze sweeping over her hot body as I drew closer to her. She was so engrossed in the book on her lap that she didn’t hear my movement. I stopped by thenearest bookshelf, my gaze unwavering, my cock swelling in my pants.
A flutter rose in my chest just from looking at her, and a heatwave spread across my body instantly. Her skin glistened in the soft light, her gentle expression brightened by the radiant smile on her lips. She let out a quiet giggle before flipping to the next page, completely unaware of my presence.
She stretched out her hand toward the table beside her without taking her eyes off the book. And that was when I noticed the bottle of red wine and the half-empty glass she was reaching for. She picked it up, lifted it to her lips, and took a sip.
I stood there silently, watching her with a slight grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. She looked so innocent yet sexy at the same time, blissful and elegant. I leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed over my chest with an unwavering gaze.
Crazy how satisfying it was to watch her enjoy the comfort of her own presence—the peace that came with solitude. In that moment, I knew for sure that what I felt for this woman was beyond sexual attraction. It was something more, something deeper.
Considering how horny I was, I wasn’t exactly sure how I’d seduce her tonight. Deep down, the plan was to first claim her lips with a hot kiss she wouldn’t resist, then unleash the beast within. I was so turned on that I thought I’d destroy her pussy without mercy.
With her permission, of course.
However, seeing her now—gorgeous, innocent, yet super attractive—I had a change of heart. I still wanted her, but not with the same intensity that I arrived with. I was no longer interested in just destroying her pussy. No. I wanted to adore that body, worship it—explore every one of her curves and contours.
She wasn’t some random whore that I’d just fuck to feed my lust. She was more than that to me—she was my wife, and she deserved to be treated with respect. Her body was to be revered and adored, not objectified. She should be cherished, not sexualized, like all she was good for was helping me jerk off.
My perception of her had changed in that single moment, and I had more control over my thoughts and cravings. Claiming her tonight was still my top priority, but the method and the process were different. If everything went according to plan, this would be our first time together. For some reason, I was keen on leaving a lasting impression on her.
The initial idea was selfish, and I’d be done the second I came. However, this time, the plan was to make it all about her, not me—that way, she’d have a reason to want more.
“Why are you still awake?” I asked, soft and tender.
She flinched at the sudden sound of my voice, the wine spilling from her hand. It splashed across the silk of her nightie, the fabric clinging to her skin, dark and translucent. The spill outlined the soft curve of her left breast, revealing her erect nipple.
“Jesus Christ, Lev! What the hell?” She spread out her arms, glancing down at her soaked dress.
In an instant, she was on her feet, brushing the back of her fingers over the affected area.
An abrupt laugh fell from my mouth as I watched her struggle to get a grip on herself.
She set the glass back on the table and glared at me. “It’s not funny.”
“It kinda is.” My lips twisted into a faint grin.
She paused and exhaled sharply, then straightened her spine, her gaze locked on mine. “How long have you been standing there anyway?”
“Long enough.”
She wore a plastic scowl, her brows knitting together. “So what, you’re spying on me now?”
“That’s one way to put it,” I answered. “I prefer to say I’m checking on you.”
Her eyes squinted, suspicion creeping into her gaze. “That’s a first.”
I scoffed, casually brushing my thumb over my nose. “Why aren’t you in bed?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” She wiped a palm through her hair. “So, I decided to keep my mind busy.”
“Hmm.” My eyes darted to the damp fabric tracing the delicate curve of her breast.
She cleared her throat conspicuously. “Uh…my face is up here.” She pointed a finger toward it, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly.
She’d caught me. I should be embarrassed. But I wasn’t. Instead, I stepped forward with a hand in my pocket, my movement slow and reverent.
