Page 18 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

It would be so easy to reach out and take her. Like plucking a ripe fruit off the vine. She’s practically begging me to do it. To devour her. To show her the ecstasy that comes from consuming something so flawless.

But I don’t. Not yet.

First, I want to watch the way she reacts when I tease her.

I slip my hand under the blanket and brush up towards where her thighs meet. Her eyelashes flutter. “What are you doing?” she says in a husky voice very unlike her own.

“I’m finishing what we started,” I reply. As I say it, I’m undoing the button with a flick of my fingers before dragging the zipper of her jeans down slowly.

She swallows. “We can’t. Not here. There are—”

I dip into her panties and press my fingers against her warm lips.

She chokes on her wine, eyes wide in panic. “Aleks, there are people everywhere…!”

“I fucking dare them to stop me.”

She stares at me, lips trembling, searching my face to see if I’m serious. Her body is rigid with tension. Her thighs are squeezed so tightly together I can barely reach her.

But she doesn’t push me away. She wants to be the kind of girl who allows herself to be wild.

I intend to give her that opportunity. She deserves it.

After all, it won’t be long before I’m ripping everything else away.

I glide my fingers down her slit. Her lips part and the panic begins to give way to reckless pleasure. Her legs open ever-so-slightly.

“Is this really happening?” she whispers, more to herself than to me.

I answer her by sliding a finger inside her, revealing how soaking wet she is. I slip in a second, move my fingers in and out, letting her adjust to me slowly. The blanket mimics my movements, rippling like the surface of the ocean and betraying what I’m doing to her underneath it.

She seems to be aware of the same thing, because she glances over her shoulder every few minutes. But no one looks. No one cares. No one knows.

No one but us.

I slide deeper inside her and add my thumb in slow circles over her clit. She braces herself against the seat as her eyes flutter shut. Her body rolls with new waves of sensation and she bites down on her bottom lip to keep the moan from escaping into the sterile hum of the air around us.

I drink in the look on her face. Her jaw is clenched and her eyelashes tremor violently as she tries to maintain control of herself. It’s beautiful to watch: a woman truly coming undone for the first time.

I circle her clit with my fingers and another tortured moan escapes her lips. Her eyes fly open and she looks at me with horror. “Oh God, that was loud…”

“Do it again,” I urge her with a wicked grin. “Louder.”

“Aleks…” she whispers, but I prevent her from saying anything more by pressing my lips against hers.

I only pull away when she’s limp and breathless in her seat. She’s melted already. Pliable. Moldable.

I pull my fingers out from inside her and withdraw my hand. “Go to the bathroom,” I order. “And wait for me.”

She looks terrified, but I have no doubt she’ll do exactly as I say.

She’s hooked now.

Soon enough, I’ll reel her in.

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