Page 79 of Owned Bratva Bride

I moved to pull my dress down when he held my hand, stopping me.

Then he dropped to his knees.

Is he…?

I hadn’t recovered from the feel of his hot breath when his tongue swiped my wet pussy. It was an effort to remain standing.

There was no build-up; his tongue was lapping hungrily immediately. My hands dug into the back of his tux when he applied suction.

“Oh, God,” I moaned.

His tongue flicked inside me with alarming speed. I couldn’t form any coherent speech. The magnifying sweet sensation his tongue gave me by sucking and fucking was all I had in my head.

My legs shook, and my body quivered as I came into his mouth. He licked every drop clean before emerging in front of me. My lips landed on his, and he kissed me back with equal intensity.

I adjusted my dress when we broke apart, the memory of my shameless moans making me avoid looking at him.

But he lifted my chin with a finger before placing a gentle kiss on my lips. His eyes remained on mine until I blinked.

The restraint didn’t come back.

We were on our way back home in minutes.

I relaxed into the leather seat, still feeling a soft vibration in my legs.

“Lean into me,” he urged.

“I might just fall asleep.”

“Then sleep.”

“I’d rather not walk sleepily in heels,” I remarked, smiling weakly at him.

“I’ll carry you. I always do,” he rasped, his lips showing a hint of a smile.

What does one say to that?

Sighing, I leaned into his shoulder.

Was it just my mind, or did he sigh contentedly as he brought an arm around me?

Chapter 16 – Eduard

“So snobbish! I wonder if they’re all sisters,” Marielle remarked, scrunching up her face in playful annoyance.

“Really?” I teased.

“Yes!”

I smiled.

“I wish I had an explanation sufficient enough, but I don’t. It seems common because they are all of the same circle, married to the same type of men, same ideals, and whatnot.”

It had been an hour since we got back from the Bratva event, and Marielle had lit up again after her shower. She was clearly still tired but not too tired to stop talking about the women at the event. I had no complaints, and I probably even indulged her; I liked how carefree she sounded.

Besides, I’d rather not talk about our intimate moment. My dick still thrummed at the memory, and I wasn’t sure I could resist having my way with her now that we were in our bed. The possessiveness that had overtaken me inflamed the hunger I tried to hold in since I laid my eyes on her in that dress. I had gone wild, and I would do it again—and that was the problem.

She kept pushing my limits every time I set them.