Page 46 of Innocent Prey of the Bratva
“You weren’t made for anything soft,solnyshko,” I say.
Her lashes flutter, but she doesn’t back away. Not yet.
She’s so close I can taste her breath. Vanilla and fear. Fire and something sweet I don’t have a name for. Every inch of me is screaming to devour her—but I don’t. Not yet. I wait. Because this—this—is the moment just before the storm. The moment where she decides if she’ll jump with me, or run from the edge.
And fuck, I want her to jump.
When she hesitates for one more second, I lose every bit of my control and take her mouth—finally, completely—my lipscrashing into hers like they’ve been waiting a lifetime. She gasps into the kiss, then melts against me, kissing me back with a hunger that makes my control slip, unraveling like smoke.
She wants this. Wants me.
And fuck, that knowledge undoes me.
I push her gently, firmly, until her back hits the rooftop wall. Her hands are fisted in my shirt now, tugging me closer like she can’t get enough, and I’m right there with her. My hands slide up her sides, slow and sure, until they’re cupping her breasts over the thin fabric of her dress.
She lets out the softest sound, muffled against my mouth—and I nearly lose it. Every inch of me burns for her.
While one hand caresses her breast over her dress, the other hand dips low, pushing her dress higher up her thighs and finding her sweet heat. She’s wearing panties, and the moment I touch her clit through the lace, she whimpers, an incoherent cry dropping from her mouth.
Fuck. I want to take my time, but this isn’t exactly the place for that. Yet, she’s holding me so tightly, her eyes squeezed shut, I know she craves release.
I shift her panties to the side and brush my thumb against her swollen clit. She’s fucking wet, the evidence of her desire dripping all over my hands. Desperate and obsessed, I pull my hand out of her pussy and suck my finger into my mouth.
It tastes better than the finest wine.
Her eyes fly open, dark with lust and desire. “Kaz, don’t stop.”
A hot smolder lances through me, and I wrap a hand around her neck. “What do you want?”
“Your touch.” She grabs my hand, but I hold firm, refusing to give her what she wants.
“Beg for it,solnyshko,” I murmur, leaning forward, running the tip of my tongue across her lower lip. “Beg.”
Her eyes widen. “Kaz….”
“Show me how much you want it.” I slip a hand underneath her dress again, brushing a finger over her clit, teasing her.
“Please.” She grinds over my hand. “Kaz, please. I can’t.”
I claim her lips again in a short, fiery kiss. “You beg so prettily, my sun. I’ll do you one better.”
Before she can ask what I mean, I sink to my knees, hold her dress around her waist, and cover her pussy with my mouth. She screams, clasping her thighs around my face so hard, I can barely breathe.
“Kaz. Oh, no. Oh, please,” she cries, grinding onto my mouth.
I push my tongue into her pussy, fucking her with it while my lips brush over her pussy lips. She comes loudly and suddenly, drenching me in her juice. She slides down to the floor, and I catch her in my arms, laughing at the delirium in her expression.
“You liked that, huh?”
“Yes.” Her face is flushed pink with pleasure, and I hold her close because I can’t bear not having her in my arms.
“Let’s go home,” she says, and there’s something in her eyes that brooks no argument.
Without a word, I scoop her up into my arms. She lets out a quiet breath, but doesn’t resist. Her head rests lightly against my shoulder as I carry her back through the rooftop door, into the private elevator, and down to the car, where Maxim is still waiting behind the wheel.
He raises an eyebrow when he sees us, but wisely says nothing.
The drive back is quiet. Tense. Not between us—but in the air, like a storm crawling on its belly just beyond the horizon. Ican feel it. And then, as we approach the estate, Maxim and I sit up because the estate gate is open and there are no guards there.
