Page 18 of Captive Vows (The Dubinin Bratva #1)

LUKA

G abriella didn’t release me. Not with her lips. Not with her hand on my cock. She kissed me like she’d wither away if we stopped. She caressed me like she wanted to explore. Between both of her moves, she was cautious but eager. Nervous but willing.

And I couldn’t get enough.

Ripping my mouth away to suck in air, I stared down at her. It was too easy to get lost in the depths of her gorgeous eyes, shining so brightly with uninhibited lust. I wasn’t in the mood to be mesmerized like that.

“Do you doubt me?” I pushed into her, letting her feel the erection tenting my pants.

“I…” She shook her head, all that I would allow from her before I grabbed the back of her neck and hauled her closer for another kiss.

She couldn’t fucking dare to deny that I wanted her. With my dick stiff under her careful, uncertain caresses, she felt how badly I wanted her. As I robbed her breath and sealed my lips over hers, she could taste how much she inspired me.

This young woman had power over me whether I wanted her to or not.

Only her.

Gabriella Lopez, the daughter of a rat.

A survivor making her way through this world on her own.

She had no goddamn clue how much power she held over me like this, but it was about time I gave her a lesson on what happened when an innocent like her could taunt the beast.

“Do you doubt how much I want you?” I demanded.

Watching her hooded gaze as we broke again for air, I pivoted until she reached the short stage I’d had installed along one wall.

It wasn’t large, nothing like what she’d need to prepare for at her audition.

But it was a higher height of the flooring.

And it was an ideal level to set her on.

I lifted her, squeezing my fingers into the delicious juiciness of her round ass.

Then I hoisted her up to sit on the stage, bringing her mouth more level to mine.

“Do you doubt how crazy you make me feel?” I growled, tugging her loose exercise shirt off.

She shook her head, watching me with a hunger I wanted to erase. Leaning back as I slanted in, she kissed me back and framed my face. Even that touch was light and tender. Too sweet. Or maybe it was just her confusion and nerves.

“Do you doubt yourself?” I asked as I kissed down along her slender neck, seeking the heaving swells of her breasts.

The bralette she’d worn under her loose shirt was too tight and confining for me to experience the touch of her skin, the peaks of her tight nipples that beaded and showed through the fabric.

“On… on stage?” she asked, so clueless that it only turned me on more.

Her inexperience showed. I was stunning her, twisting her off the axis of her world. Instead of bothering me or annoying me, I relished the privilege to be the one to show her how this could be. I looked forward to the exquisite pleasure of introducing her to sensual bliss.

I looked up at her as I slipped my hands under the short skirt she’d worn to practice in. “You are on a stage,” I reminded her.

As I pushed my fingers further up her silky thigh, she furrowed her brow.

That resistance wasn’t gone. Her fiery need to refuse me was still there.

I’d never forget how hotly and fiercely she’d told me that she’d never get anything from me.

It was a sweet memory to recall now as I prepared to give her the start of something she’d never had before.

Perhaps she wasn’t fully submitting to me yet.

Her body betrayed her. I felt the evidence of how turned on and aroused she was.

Warm slickness greeted my fingers as I reached for her panties to tug them down.

Her nipples begged for my lips, hard and pushing against her bralette.

I lowered my mouth to suck on them through the thin fabric, and she arched into me with the sexiest, neediest sound.

In her eyes, though, she wanted to tell me no. In her mind, she had to be protesting and wishing she could tell me to stop.

But she didn’t.

“Do you doubt that you can make me want you like this?” I asked, pleased when she lifted her thighs to accommodate my removing her panties.

“I… I… I don’t?—”

I pulled her in for a hard kiss to quiet her nervousness.

As I sucked and nipped at her lips, excited about how she proved to be a quick learner and responded in kind, I rubbed my fingers around in her juices.

All that arousal slickened my fingers. I smeared it around her slit, massaging her pussy.

I wasn’t too gentle, impatient to show her how good it could be to submit.

I wasn’t too rough, demonstrating that I was in charge.

I followed her reactions, marking every hitch of her breath, each clutch of her fingers on my arm as she held me close.

She adjusted to my touch, one she’d never had before.

Mine.

Right then and right there, she was mine and no one else’s. The exquisite right to her was a heady sensation to overcome, but I didn’t lose myself to the ride of this experience. I wouldn’t get too selfish and greedy and end it too soon.

“Luka.” She moaned as I dipped one finger in, stretching her tight sheath. “Oh, fuck. Luka…”

Goddamn. Her breathless groans were music to my ears. Sweet, sinful admissions. I knew what she wanted. I tracked how much she needed me.

I wasn’t going to trick myself into thinking I was giving her anything. I was taking. Like this, I’d take away some of her innocence, all to show her how worthy she was. How breathtaking she could be when she took a risk. On the stage, or with me.

“I’ve never… I’ve never done this,” she confessed as I dipped over her, urging her to fall back further.

“Never what, Gabriella?” I taunted her, too high on the exhilarating rush to touch her and caress her.

Adding another finger to her pussy, I resumed sucking on her nipples as she lowered to the stage.

Reclined with her hands behind her, her arms locked, she had the ideal vantage point to watch me trail kisses lower and lower.

Flipping her skirt up bared her to me, and I grinned at the naughty gasp she let out.

Perhaps seeing my fingers in her cunt shocked her.

Or maybe it was the view of her legs spread wide to make room for me.

“Never been… touched,” she whispered as I went down and down.

“Like this?” I dropped my face to her sweet pussy.

The musk of her arousal was too tempting to deny myself this taste.

At the first touch of my lips on her cunt, she arched her back and cried out.

Then as I swiped my tongue around her entrance, lapping up her cream and all that juiciness she dripped for me, she let her legs fall apart even wider.

“Oh. Oh, my. Fuck. Luka. Are you sure— Oh, fuck .”

Hearing her lose her mind to my tasting her sweetness was another memory I’d take to the grave.

I’d never forget how she trembled and shook.

How she watched with awe and shock. Licking and sucking, I left no inch of her untouched flesh neglected.

But it was when I moved on to her clit, flicking it with the tip of my tongue before sucking on it over and over, that she came for me.

Her first orgasm was mine.

The gush of her arousal was mine.

All those cries and strained growls of reaching that blissful release were mine.

Gabriella was fucking mine. To take. To keep. To fuck.

Yet, as I watched her quiver and close her eyes tight at the intensity of her orgasm, I knew I couldn’t rush any more of this.

I couldn’t let the hunt and chase be over already. She was the salvation, the break to my same-old depression, and I refused to take too much, too soon. I had to endure the challenge, to wait and pace myself before she, too, would be spent and used, no longer a new thing to intrigue me.

Stepping back from her was the hardest thing I’d done in years.

Her legs remained parted as her thighs trembled.

That pink, glistening pussy was bared for me to see.

Leaning back, her head hanging down so her hair tumbled like a curtain behind her, she was lax and open.

Exposed and all for me to take as I pleased.

I didn’t.

Retreating one step, then another, I licked my lips and damned how delicious she was when she finally surrendered. I wanted her. I lusted for her with every fiber of my being, every cell of my body. Still trapped under my pants, my dick strained and ached to be freed and slammed deep inside her.

I wouldn’t. Not like this. I had to prolong this challenge and intrigue for as long as I could.

Without comforting her, without offering her any solace or guidance for how to recover from an orgasm like that, I backed out of the studio and closed the door behind me.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I leaned back on the closed door. Shutting my eyes, I tried to grasp and cling to the threads of how sweet and sexy she was, opening up for me to take what I wanted. To give her what she sought.

Leaving her alone felt wrong.

Yet, at the same time, it was the only right thing to do.

If I stayed to hold her and comfort her…

No. Just go.

Worried that I could be too soft, that I could care too much, I walked away and left her to handle the aftermath of what happened when she doubted how deeply she could inspire me.

She could make her own opinions about what it was like when she tried to dismiss how much I appreciated her and all she’d done to change my life this far.