Page 11 of Bratva’s Stolen Bride (Obsessed Bratva Bosses #1)

FELIKS

I’m still hard. My cock presses into the space between her thighs, and jerks in response to her.

We’re both wet and sandy. I’m dripping seawater onto her. She’s slippery beneath me. But my shock at the intensity of the feelings between us is mirrored on her face.

“What were you going for?” My hips hold her down, but she’s not scratching at my eyes, or trying to really get away.

Her gaze flicks to my suit jacket on the kitchen island. Where both our phones are tucked into my pockets.

“Ah, your phone.” I lift myself from her and in two steps I have her phone in my hand. It’s switched off, as my men are well trained. No leaving live devices around.

“You like games, don’t you?” I toss and catch it.

Sitting up on the sofa, Payton regards me with a mixture of hope and despair. In that little bikini, sopping wet, she looks good enough to eat.

“I have to contact my sister,” she pleads.

I nearly give in. Grabbing my own phone, I click it open to my messages with my core team. There are a series of updates on their search for Ivan.

They still haven’t found him.

I look at Payton’s phone, and the girl herself, her eyes pleading.

She can’t use her phone. Even opening it would trigger off any spyware Ivan has, and since he’s still at large, he could get here.

And calling her sister from mine is asking for trouble.

A second sister going missing? Hayley will be raising every alarm, and that means the meddling London “Maths” Club, who try to get involved with every cat stuck up a tree in London, and will make it their mission to “rescue” her. Tracing us to this island will be easy.

She’s everything to me.

I can’t risk it. Her.

“Here’s my deal. If you don’t beg, you can have the phone.” I place it on the top of a high shelf that her cute little self won’t be able to reach. “I enjoy a challenge.”

And Payton is a worthy opponent, for all her youth. She was a faster swimmer than I expected, and I’m excited to bend her to my will. To show her that letting me lead is better for her, and that I’ll take care of her better than she can.

“You’re going to torture me?” She swallows nervously.

I cross my arms, restrain my grin, and stare down at her.

“Your choice is that the phone goes in the sea, or you accept my deal, and try not to beg.” I take my tie from where I discarded it.

“Okay.” She tilts her chin up bravely, and that only makes her even more appealing to me.

She’s sitting primly, with her knees together and her hands folded in her lap.

It’s a transparent effort to cover her amazing tits, and seem small and unthreatening.

I guess she really thinks I’m going to hurt her.

“Put your hands above your head,” I tell her.

She licks her lips, and for a second, I think she’ll protest. But she doesn’t, and the air goes thick and hot as I watch her raise her arms.

“Good girl.” Her eyelids flutter. She likes that, huh? My girl enjoys being appreciated, and I can deliver all of the praise she needs.

I approach, and it’s a thrill when her gaze drops from my face to the bulge in my shorts, and her cheeks pinken.

With deliberate, slow movements so I don’t scare her, but I do make it clear who’s in charge now, I drop one knee on either side of her thighs and lean over her. Wrapping my tie around her wrists, I bind them tightly enough she’ll feel it, and can’t escape, but it’s a long way from hurting.

I’d die before I’d harm her.

I nudge her hands down until they’re resting on the back of the sofa behind her head, then rise again to stand in front of her, looking down.

I’m tall and imposing. But I think she likes that, because her gaze bounces around my body, taking in my many tattoos.

“Spread your legs for me.”

“What?” she says, breathily.

“Open them wide, so I can see the edges of your pretty little cunt.”

She whimpers at the crudeness of my words, but obediently parts her thighs.

The bikini bottoms cover what I really want, and this angle isn’t right, but I’ll take it.

I nod with approval.

“Now what?” she asks with an edge of defiance and a quiver of fear.

“I’m going to make you beg and scream.”

“Or I might nap,” she replies, and it takes visible effort.

I chuckle and grab a cushion from the sofa, tossing it onto the floor at our feet. When I lower myself down, her brow furrows with confusion.

“My knees will be murder otherwise,” I confess, and she blinks. “I intend on being down here a long time , and if you’re going to be a stubborn brat, it might be even longer.”

I pluck at one bow of her bikini bottoms, and she gasps as it falls apart.

I smirk. Perfect. Easy access.

Tugging at the other one, it gives up too, and with a flick of the fabric, she’s revealed to me. I grab her thighs with both hands and tug. That modest pose with her little arse tucked in under her won’t do. I need her sprawled, and her cunt where I can get my lips on it.

She squeaks in surprise, and I just admire the creamy skin of her legs from this new perspective. A pink flower, but wet and succulent. She’s even served on a damn plate of her bikini. She couldn’t be any better if she tried.

My mouth waters. She’s going to be delicious.

I’d like to see her tits as well, and fuck it. I shouldn’t, but there’s nothing okay about what I’m doing. She’s a lovely twenty-one-year-old girl who got caught up in trouble she didn’t understand. I’m a Bratva boss, with hundreds of men at my command and a kill tally snaking around my bicep.

I tug up the triangles of fabric and reveal her berry-pink nipples. This can’t work, but I can take this one thing. Her orgasm.

I lean down and inhale the sweetness of her pussy juices, the evidence I need that she wants this too, and salt water.

“Feliks!” she squawks.

My head is up in a split second. I can’t disguise my concern. “Payton?”

She gulps and I run a comforting hand over her splayed knee.

“I…” She tails off and looks away.

Fuck . No.

“What did he do to you?” My voice is gentle, but there’s steel behind it. As though I need more reasons to kill Ivan, but I have to know.

“Nothing,” she says in a pained tone. “No one’s ever done anything.”

My heart swells at the same time the relief eases my joints loose again.

“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers. “And what if I lose because of being a virgin and getting it wrong?”

My sweet girl is still worried about her sister.

“Lisichka, experience wouldn’t help you. And it will be my honour to be the first to eat your tasty little cunt until you come.”

“Oh!” Her eyes go wide. “That’s what you meant?”

“That’s the game,” I confirm. “I tease you until you beg me. You try to hold out.” I run my palm up her leg, then back down, and she shivers. “Agree?”

Her silence is enough for me. I bring my mouth down and take a greedy lick all the way up her folds and groan because she’s even softer and sweeter than I imagined, with the salt of the sea too.

Her lips jerk, and she lets out a surprised squeak.

I chuckle, and flick my tongue on her clit. “I know, and it’s going to get better, trust me.”

Caressing her thighs, I lap her juices, working out and back in again, but only glancingly sweeping her clit.

I urge her legs further apart to make room for me to see all of her, really spread out.

My new favourite meal is this girl. She makes soft noises of pleasure and shifts impatiently as I take my time to explore every inch of her pussy and thighs with my tongue and lips.

I build her ecstasy carefully, finding the exact place and speed she prefers. Feeling her respond to me as I drive her higher and higher has my cock aching for relief.

But she’s my priority, and the way she moans and writhes is so good.

An unexpected connection when I’d assumed I would never care about another person as much as I do myself.

To discover that half my soul is in an innocent girl is as shocking and the feeling that so long as she comes, it doesn’t matter if I don’t.

If she trusts me, and will beg for me, that’s everything.

I take my time, and get her to the edge of pleasure, when she’s bucking into me, chasing the next firm lick.

And then I stop.

She keens, vibrating with need, and I know I’ve got her to the brink.

“I’ll let you come. One more touch, and you’ll be there. I can give it to you.” I want to. Maybe I crave it even more than she does.

“You bastard!” she sobs out.

“It’s to keep you safe,” I tell her honestly.

“I can’t, I have to…” She writhes in her restraints. “I…” There are more babbling words. Incoherent.

“Say the word, Payton.”

She hesitates, not ready. Still holding out.

I sit back on my heels and my knees crack. Fuck, as though I needed that reminder I’m forty-four. “I think I’m thirsty.”

“What?” she pants. “You what ? You’re going to leave me like this?”

“Only for a moment.” I pause meaningfully. “When you’ve calmed down a bit, and I’ve had a glass of water, I’ll resume.”

She makes a high-pitched noise of frustration and desire.

“Unless you have something you want to say to me?”

“No, no… I…” She shakes her head and tugs against the tie holding her hands, but she doesn’t attempt to touch herself, close her legs, or escape.

She’s such a pretty sight, her cunt all on display for me. I rise to my full height.

“Are you going to be a good girl while I get us some refreshment?”

She sobs and rolls her hips, but nods her head.

“This house has solar panels on the roof and a battery system,” I explain as I fetch a pint glass and fill it with ice and cold water from the fridge. “We have all we need to do this for as long as required.”

I take a long glug and sigh contentedly as I look back at Payton.

She’s biting her bottom lip, eyes screwed closed as though in pain.

“Just ask me.” I refill the glass and return to her.

She opens her eyes and the mixture of defiance and desire I see there only serves to harden my cock to steel.

“I can’t.” But it’s a tired refusal.

“Do you want water?” I bet she’s as thirsty as I am after being in the sea. And all that whimpering.

“If I say yes, is that begging, and I lose?” she asks suspiciously.

I shake my head. “You’re missing the point of this entirely, Payton.”

“What is it then? Because I thought it was to torture me until I beg you to stop.”

“It’s to force you to let me care for you and protect you the way I know you need, and not allow you to get into trouble,” I reply, low and simply with the truth of the statement.

She blinks and tilts her face down, hiding her reaction.

Interesting.

I drop a knee and then straddle her again. She gives a squeak of protest, but I just tip her chin up with one finger, and murmur, “Open.”

She obeys.

I take a sip of water and drop my head until my lips touch hers. Slowly, I let a stream flow into her mouth.

Lowering her chin so she can swallow, I bend so I look her straight in those pretty blue eyes.

“Trust me to provide for you. Ask me. Beg me. And I will. I want to, in every way.”

Her pulse is fluttering at her throat, and she nods.

“Good girl.” I put the glass to her lips and help her drink until she’s had enough.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, a little shyly.

“It’s my pleasure, lisichka.” I move off the sofa and kneel again at my place at her feet. “Now, back to this delicious pussy.”

She shudders and cries out as I lick her again, not starting slowly this time.

“I still want you to trust me and beg me to let you come,” I explain patiently, then dive back, face-first into the heaven between her legs.

So even as my knees hurt, my shoulders ache, and my tongue cramps, I don’t stop. I just add in my fingers, a tiny bit at a time, one fingertip, then up to a knuckle, building her up to two ramming into her, stroking her inside and out.

I push her to the edge over and over, pausing when she’s about to come, and sitting back. My hands are covered with her cream. It’s all over my cheeks.

“You look so sexy like this.” I stroke around her clit, deliberately avoiding the throbbing nub.

I don’t know how long we’ve been going now, but between her arousal and my licking her, the bikini bottoms under her are soaked.

She’s moaning incoherently, but she’s not begging.

It almost hurts me not to make her come. I’m so hard my erection could break rocks.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she can call her sister as soon as my men have found Ivan.

That would be the kind thing to do, a compromise.

But I started with this, and although I’m being an unreasonable arsehole, I need her to submit to me.

I stroke her hair with one hand as she breaks down, almost crying.

“Poor desperate lisichka.” I trail my hand up her inner thigh. “Your cunt is so pretty. Genuinely the sweetest I’ve ever tasted, and my god, the way you’re so responsive. You’re a miracle.”

I ruthlessly push two fingers into her impossibly tight passage, so hot and slick I know I won’t last long when my cock is finally lodged inside there.

Rubbing that patch at the top of her opening makes her crazy, drawing out little whimper from her as I thrust in again and again, curling to get her to that moment where she could topple.

Then I feel it. She’s wound so tight, she’s gripping my knuckles, shaking all over. So close to orgasm it’s heavy in the air.

I lift away my head, leaving my fingers inside her.

“Ask,” I command her as she whines in frustration at the removal of my mouth. Stroking her knee soothingly, I look into her pale-blue eyes.

They beg me, plead. But she presses her lips together as though without that effort, the words might escape and jump into the air.

She’s getting a little bit puffy on her clit and the pink folds that I’ve enjoyed paying devout attention to have nearly taken all the stimulation they can.

A blade of doubt cuts at me.

“You’re so beautiful, and you’ve been so strong.”

I press kisses to her belly, and while I wish it was a promise to put a baby in there, this girl might be stubborn enough to break both of us.

“Please,” I whisper. “Let me give you this.”

I’m begging. I’m the one fucking begging.

She doesn’t respond, and my heart sinks.

Fuck. Okay.

I know when I’m beaten. I was so sure, and I clench my jaw at the risk I’ve let her take. I’ll give her my phone, and accept the consequences.

The thought that in the inevitable fight she might be taken away from me cracks me apart. I’m not sure I can deal with this honourably.

I push to my feet, but as soon as I’ve turned, heading for the shelf where her phone is stashed, I hear a little voice.

“Feliks.” There’s a new need there, desperate, and reluctant.

“Lisichka.” I don’t move. I don’t dare hope.

“Please.”

Relief surges in me.

“Please, what?” I keep my tone measured and calm.

“Please…” Her breath hitches. “Please make me come.”