Page 18 of Bratva’s Stolen Bride (Obsessed Bratva Bosses #1)

FELIKS

Her body is my custom-made heaven. Hot, wet, tight. But so much more. There’s magic between us as I thrust, careful of my virgin girl. This feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I’m holding her down, yes, but she angles her hips to meet my every move.

However good I imagined Payton would feel when she submitted to me, this is better.

I still have her hands trapped above her head, held with one of mine, and my core muscles are screaming at me as I thrust, holding myself one handed, careful not to put pressure on her wrists, and stroke the slippery bud of her clit.

My belly connects with hers every time I bottom out in her sopping pussy, our flesh slapping together.

“Payton.” Her name is my prayer.

It’s raw and meaningful as we alternate between staring into each other’s eyes, and when that’s too much, I bring my mouth down onto hers, kissing her ravenously.

My balls pull up, and the savage bliss of her threatens to shove me into orgasm. But she has to come on my cock first. I need to feel her pleasure as she clenches around my length more than I need air.

Her breathing changes as I circle her clit more insistently, interspersing long, slow strokes of my whole length into her with short, shallow thrusts that focus the swollen tip of my erection on her sensitive entrance. She keens and tightens. I lift my head to see her face.

“Come for me,” I rasp.

And she does. Brutal pride envelops me as she grips my cock.

“Feliks!” she sobs out my name as she comes in waves that almost cause me to black out as I hold myself back, just giving her the continued friction to prolong her orgasm.

It’s all I can do to stop myself from following. I release her hands and roll us over to ease the temptation to rut into her. She’s liquid over me as I arch my hips up into her far slower than my cock demands, the sound of each thrust into her soaked pussy absolutely filthy.

“Being covered by you is the best thing.” I wrap my arms around her and skim my fingers down her back, up to her silky hair and down to her soft little bottom.

“I want you to be my wife, my slut, my whore, my goddess. Everything to me.” I pour out the words in broken shards into her ear as she lies on my chest. “All that I’ve ever dreamed of wanting.

A dozen things I didn’t know I needed. I swear I’m going to have you dripping with my seed every day until you’re pregnant with my baby.

And then I’ll probably have to have you twice as often, because imagining you pregnant makes me so hard I might burst out of my skin. ”

“Feliks,” she murmurs, then rubs her cheek on my shoulder like a cat scenting me, and pushes up onto her arms, hands on my pectorals.

“I’ve ruined your tiny cunt with my fat dick, haven’t I?” My voice is scratchy. “And you’ll love it.”

“Yes, yes.”

We both moan as the angle of my cock inside her shifts, and she adjusts her thighs on either side of my waist, figuring out how to get stable enough to move over me, experimenting.

I lie back and run my hands up her sides, cupping her breasts and squeezing her nipples. I groan as I explore her body, utterly disbelieving that she’s here. She’s mine.

Emotion bubbles up in my chest as she rides me, using my cock with more confidence by the second. This is the culmination of all the feelings she’s inspired from the moment I first saw her.

All those things I said I do for her, and that’s just the start. I’d do anything. I’d risk everything.

I love her.

It’s quietly in my head at first, tentative. This feeling is alien. It’s been years since I’ve had sex, decades since I’ve cared, and forever since I loved. I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone. Not fully, with my entire body and soul.

It’s a beat, as I hold her waist and bring her down on my cock when she tires.

The words are insistent.

I love you .

I love you.

“Ya tebya lyublyu.” I’ve said it in Russian before my brain understands, and while I half expect there to be cracks of thunder, and fireballs raining from the sky, instead there’s just the slightly confused and hazy-eyed with pleasure girl on top of me, unaware I’ve split open my ribcage and offered her my bleeding, beating heart.

And it’s good. It’s amazing, like the best high I’ve felt. I’m free.

I say it again in Russian, and bring my hand to her neck, holding her as she bounces on my cock. Mine. I love you.

“I love you.”

She stops instantly, eyes wide, as shocked as I am.

Then I’ve gathered her in my arms and flipped her down onto her back, some primal part of my brain afraid she’ll run from me now I’ve confessed this.

I withdraw and slam into her, trapping her with my body.

“I love you.” My voice is hoarse. “I love you.” There are no other words.

I’m taking her too hard and fast, and she’s so hot and wet and tight that I’m barely restraining myself from shooting my load into her.

Right up by her fertile young womb. But she’s insane too, wrapping her legs and arms around me as best she can as I pound her into the bed, too crazed to be gentle, too in love to do anything but give myself over to the overwhelming sensation of us together.

This time I have to cram my hand between us. I can’t make space, I have to be inside her as deeply as possible. But it’s enough.

She breaks again, quicker but just as intense.

“ My husband.” She grips my hair tight and cries out as she comes.

That possessiveness makes me feral. I slam into her, out of control, my face screwed up and an animalistic roar blasting from my chest as my orgasm explodes from the base of my spine, up my shaft in a wave of ecstasy that sweeps through me, washing out all the bleak loneliness and leaving only her.

Payton. My wife. The woman I love and will give anything.

I’m weak as the pleasure rolls over me, all my strength nothing. I’m unable to hold myself off my girl. All my muscles break as my orgasm blasts through me.

I collapse and roll to the side, bringing Payton with me.

And as I wrap my arms around her and pant and shudder with intensity of what just occurred, I hear words I never even dreamed of.

“I love you, too.”