Page 17 of A Bride for the Bratva Boss
I hear him say goodbye to Liza before he reaches the elevator. Her soft reply sounds like she’s in the sitting area. I get up to join her.
She’s on one of the couches, reading a magazine. Alexei took some men and went to her apartment to pack up her stuff. He texted to say it was a complete shithole and the security so minimal he wouldn’t let his half-brother stay there. Alexei hates his half-brother.
Liza’s wearing clothes he must have dropped off for her. She’s in an oversized t-shirt and leggings, with thick socks on her feet. With one leg curled under the other, her thick thighs spread out and my hands clench from wanting to dig my fingers into that soft flesh. To touch her all over. To make her scream my name as I bury my face in her sweet pussy.
Her virgin pussy.
Blyat.When she told me, I almost passed out from the desire drenching my body.
Nobody else has touched her.
When I claim her, I’ll be the first man to possess her. And as long as I am alive, I’ll be the only man to have her. I clear my throat and her head jerks, startled eyes locking on mine. “Let’s go train,” I growl out.
She follows me into the gym next to my office. Her steps are light, cautious, like she’s preparing to run if she has to. I start wrapping my hands, but turn toward the door when I don’t hear her entering. She’s standing in the doorway, pulling on her shirt and blinking like she’s not sure she’s allowed here.
“You’ll have a guard when I’m not with you,” I say. “But you still need to be able to defend herself.”
Her eyes flash and the uncertainty that filled them before is gone. “I want to learn,” she says.
My pulse jumps and I realize I can’t teach her without touching her. Maybe this is a bad idea. I clear my throat. “Good,” I say. “Come here.”
She pulls off her socks and steps onto the mat barefoot. She’s showered since I saw her. Her luscious body smells of my soap. She’s tied her hair into a messy knot on top of her head. And because it smells like my shampoo, my cock’s instantly hard. I do some warmup stretches with my back turned her way to hide my erection.
When I finally get my body under a resemblance of control, I’m still sporting a semi, but luckily my loose shorts hide it, I showher the basic stance. My feet are shoulder-width apart, knees soft, hands up.
She tries to mimic me, but her posture’s stiff and far too uncertain.
“Too polite,” I tell her, circling behind. “If someone grabs you, you don’t ask them nicely to stop.”
She huffs out a breath. “I’ve never hit anyone.”
“You stabbed someone last night.”
“That was an accident.” Her voice shakes. “And terrifying.”
I stop behind her, close enough that I can feel the heat off her back. Her breath catches. I place my hands on her hips to adjust her stance. My fingers sink into her soft curves and it takes a monumental effort not to squeeze and pull her fantastic ass against my groin.
She freezes and lets out a woosh of air.
Worried I scared her, I’m about to pull my hands away, but then her body leans toward me. She’s bothered, but in a good way.
A grin spreads across my face. “Relax,” I murmur in her ear.
“I am relaxed,” she lies.
I press lightly with my thumbs against her hip bone, turning it into a caress. “Your body says otherwise.”
She swallows, audible in the quiet room.
I change my grip to adjust her arms, leaning in closer my chest against her back. When my forearms brush her shoulders, she sucks in a soft breath.
She’s definitely not afraid. She’s aware, but also inexperienced. And with that thought, my cock is up and ready to play again. I curse inwardly and lean away from her.
Breathing her in one more time, I move to face her. “Again. Hands up.”
She raises them, badly. Her fingers are fisted, with her thumb buried inside. She’ll break them that way.
I grip her wrists gently and caress upward until her hands are open and in the correct position. “I’ll teach you how to hit with the heel of your hand first,” I say. “That way you’ll learn the technique with less risk of fracturing your wrist and fingers.”
