Page 65
Story: Forced Bratva Bride
“Does it?” I smiled, leaning back on my elbows in a deliberate display. “I was thinking of taking it off.”
“You’re positively evil,” he growled as he reached out and made space for himself on the bed. His fingers then traced the edge of the towel where it crossed my chest. “I've missed you. God, how I’ve missed you.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said nonchalantly, purposely acting haughty in the way I knew he liked.
“Larissaaa…” he sang, and his hand cupped my cheek. When I looked over, he shook his head once in warning, telling me not to push him.
But that’s what I wanted. Needed. After days of cold war, I wanted to put it behind us. Without wasting a second, I parted my lips and his eyes traveled down.
He didn’t need more encouragement. Gio’s lips crashed onto mine and I kissed him back hard, my lips moving at a feverish pace as I slid them across his lips. He parted for me, and I drove right in, tasting the roof of his mouth, feeling the curl of his tongue and then he fought back, pushing my tongue and his back into my mouth.
Days of tension and hurt dissolved under the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against mine. His hands slid beneath the towel, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, and I gasped into his mouth.
“Too much?” he asked, pulling back slightly with concern.
“Not enough,” I answered, reaching for his tie and loosening it with a single tug. “I need to feel you.”
He tugged at the towel until itwhooshedoff my body and I heard his breath catch at the sight and feel of my naked body. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing a reverent path from my throat to my navel. “So fucking beautiful.”
I worked at his shirt buttons while he kissed his way down my neck and across my collarbones. When his mouth closed over my nipple, I arched into him with a sharp cry, suddenly oversensitive—a side effect of pregnancy I hadn't anticipated. Though of course he didn’t know that.
“Sensitive?” He looked up, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Shut up and take your clothes off,” I growled, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
He chuckled as he rose and stripped off all his clothes in a matter of seconds.
“Impressive,” I smirked.
“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it,” he growled as I slid over and he got into bed. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling anything but a fire for him as he lay there naked within inches. I ran a hand down the hard planes of that gorgeous, impossible chest, all the way down to the muscles leading between his legs and when I slid down and crouched on my knees before him, his eyes widened with surprise.
“What?” I whispered. “Girls can’t have fun?”
He looked positively feverish when I reached for him and wrapped my fingers around his length, feeling his skin stretch over the hardness. His groan of pleasure sent a thrill through me, a rush of power at knowing I could reduce this dangerous man to trembling need.
“I want to taste you,” I said, positioning myself on my knees and forearms and dipping my head low. Before he could respond, I took him into my mouth, relishing his sharp intake of breath.
I worked him slowly at first, tongue circling the sensitive head, hand gripping the base where my mouth couldn't reach. His fingers tangled in my hair, not forcing, just holding, connecting us as I took him deeper.
“Fuck, Larissa,” he hissed. “Your mouth...”
I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder, feeling drunk on his responses—the tightening of his grip, the tensing of his thighs, the way his breathing grew ragged. I felt pure, unadulterated power at his weakening.
When I glanced up, Gio’s head was thrown back. His eyes opened just then, meeting mine, and the raw hunger I saw there got me wet between my legs.
His hands tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper until he hit the back of my throat. I felt the tears spring to my eyes from the pressure, but it felt too damn hot to stop and sucked harder. Just as his breathing became erratic, signaling he was close, he pulled away, leaving himself unfinished.
“Not yet,” he growled, reaching to grab me by the waist as he turned and pulled me beneath him. “I need tofeelyou now.”
His fingers found me slick and ready, testing my wetness with a satisfied hum as he pulled out. “So wet for me already.”
He was now above me, positioning himself at my entrance. But, he paused and waited for the usual command. I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He entered me in one smooth thrust that had both of us gasping. For a moment, we stayed perfectly still, savoring the sweetness of being joined like this.
“God, you feel so good,” he whispered against my lips.
“Make me feel good,” I answered, rocking my hips.
“You’re positively evil,” he growled as he reached out and made space for himself on the bed. His fingers then traced the edge of the towel where it crossed my chest. “I've missed you. God, how I’ve missed you.”
“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said nonchalantly, purposely acting haughty in the way I knew he liked.
“Larissaaa…” he sang, and his hand cupped my cheek. When I looked over, he shook his head once in warning, telling me not to push him.
But that’s what I wanted. Needed. After days of cold war, I wanted to put it behind us. Without wasting a second, I parted my lips and his eyes traveled down.
He didn’t need more encouragement. Gio’s lips crashed onto mine and I kissed him back hard, my lips moving at a feverish pace as I slid them across his lips. He parted for me, and I drove right in, tasting the roof of his mouth, feeling the curl of his tongue and then he fought back, pushing my tongue and his back into my mouth.
Days of tension and hurt dissolved under the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against mine. His hands slid beneath the towel, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, and I gasped into his mouth.
“Too much?” he asked, pulling back slightly with concern.
“Not enough,” I answered, reaching for his tie and loosening it with a single tug. “I need to feel you.”
He tugged at the towel until itwhooshedoff my body and I heard his breath catch at the sight and feel of my naked body. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing a reverent path from my throat to my navel. “So fucking beautiful.”
I worked at his shirt buttons while he kissed his way down my neck and across my collarbones. When his mouth closed over my nipple, I arched into him with a sharp cry, suddenly oversensitive—a side effect of pregnancy I hadn't anticipated. Though of course he didn’t know that.
“Sensitive?” He looked up, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Shut up and take your clothes off,” I growled, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
He chuckled as he rose and stripped off all his clothes in a matter of seconds.
“Impressive,” I smirked.
“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it,” he growled as I slid over and he got into bed. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling anything but a fire for him as he lay there naked within inches. I ran a hand down the hard planes of that gorgeous, impossible chest, all the way down to the muscles leading between his legs and when I slid down and crouched on my knees before him, his eyes widened with surprise.
“What?” I whispered. “Girls can’t have fun?”
He looked positively feverish when I reached for him and wrapped my fingers around his length, feeling his skin stretch over the hardness. His groan of pleasure sent a thrill through me, a rush of power at knowing I could reduce this dangerous man to trembling need.
“I want to taste you,” I said, positioning myself on my knees and forearms and dipping my head low. Before he could respond, I took him into my mouth, relishing his sharp intake of breath.
I worked him slowly at first, tongue circling the sensitive head, hand gripping the base where my mouth couldn't reach. His fingers tangled in my hair, not forcing, just holding, connecting us as I took him deeper.
“Fuck, Larissa,” he hissed. “Your mouth...”
I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder, feeling drunk on his responses—the tightening of his grip, the tensing of his thighs, the way his breathing grew ragged. I felt pure, unadulterated power at his weakening.
When I glanced up, Gio’s head was thrown back. His eyes opened just then, meeting mine, and the raw hunger I saw there got me wet between my legs.
His hands tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper until he hit the back of my throat. I felt the tears spring to my eyes from the pressure, but it felt too damn hot to stop and sucked harder. Just as his breathing became erratic, signaling he was close, he pulled away, leaving himself unfinished.
“Not yet,” he growled, reaching to grab me by the waist as he turned and pulled me beneath him. “I need tofeelyou now.”
His fingers found me slick and ready, testing my wetness with a satisfied hum as he pulled out. “So wet for me already.”
He was now above me, positioning himself at my entrance. But, he paused and waited for the usual command. I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
He entered me in one smooth thrust that had both of us gasping. For a moment, we stayed perfectly still, savoring the sweetness of being joined like this.
“God, you feel so good,” he whispered against my lips.
“Make me feel good,” I answered, rocking my hips.
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