Page 16 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession (Vadim Bratva #12)

I stood there with Elena squashed against my body, my hands protectively keeping her from stumbling. The crowd scattered a little, and there was space for her to move back, for her to put some distance.

But she stood frozen in place, and her eyes widened. My heart hammered into my chest, and I realized what happened when her eyes flickered down below my waist for just a hesitant moment, before she pulled back up.

She knew exactly what she'd felt against her hip when the crowd pushed her into me. I winced internally, told myself I deserved it for when she slapped me. God, I had just taken a creep off her and now… I was the creep?

But my body had a mind of its own. She might have understood if she could have seen the way she was dancing, all seductive curves and slow moves. But she couldn’t get in my head, couldn’t understand how she looked through my eyes.

I let go of her shoulders, prepared to apologize, prepared for her onslaught of rage. But the rejection I expected never came.

Instead, time stretched between us like pulled mozzarella. Delicious and inviting.

She swallowed hard, her lips parting slightly as she looked up at me. For one excruciating moment, neither of us moved.

Then, to my utter shock, she took a tentative step forward.

“Elena,” I started, my voice hoarse and obviously not audible over the music. I didn't know if I would warn or beg her.

It seemed she read my lips, for she silenced me with the most unexpected, small, naughty little smile and placed one hand lightly on my chest, the other wrapped around my neck.

Her hand burned through my shirt, and I swear my heart rumbled like thunder.

The next thing I knew, she was swaying her hips against mine, and then she turned in my arms, her back pressed against my chest, and moved to the music like water.

This wasn't happening. Couldn't be happening. Elena Lebedev was now purposely pressing her ass against my painfully hard cock.

“What are you doing?” I growled into her ear, my hands instinctively finding her hips, digging into the stretchy material of that damned dress.

“Dancing,” she replied, throwing her head back at me to be heard. “Isn't that what we're here for?”

I should have pulled away, remembered why I had taken her in the first place, knowing how falling for her would only thwart my plans. But her body was a narcotic to mine, and each roll of her hips against mine eroded any and all self-control.

I found myself unable to stop my hands from sliding around to her stomach, pulling her more firmly against me.

She let her head fall back against my shoulder, exposing the elegant curve of her throat.

I was drowning. I was burning alive. She was someone I had no right to want but couldn't bring myself to step away from.

I told myself it was the alcohol. The few drinks she'd had, the one I'd knocked back at the VIP table while watching her dance. That's all this was—liquid courage and bad decisions. But when she turned in my arms to face me, her pupils blown wide with desire, I knew that was a lie.

Her hands slid up my chest, around my neck, fingers tangling in my hair as she pulled herself closer. “Stop thinking so much,” she said, reading my tortured expression.

“You don't know what you're asking for,” I warned, even as my hands roamed down her back to cup her ass.

“I think I do, going by what nearly happened at the boutique today.”

And just like that, the moment I’d refrained from speaking about earlier now came rumbling back between us, screaming to be acknowledged, shrieking to be heard, demanding to be completed.

The music shifted to a slow, sensual beat like the Universe sent a sign.

Elena's body moved against mine, her hips grinding in a way that left no doubt about what she wanted. Each movement sent sparks of pleasure shooting up my spine, my cock straining painfully against my pants.

My control was slipping, thread by thread. I told myself this was wrong—that I was taking advantage of her when we were both clearly drunk. But the way she looked at me, her practically clear eyes burning with the same hunger I felt, made those protests hollow.

“I've seen how you look at me,” she whispered, her lips close to my ear, her breath hot against my skin. “When you think I'm not watching.”

That was it, and the last thread of my restraint snapped.

I could no longer hold back. I was in literal pain from how every atom in my body wanted to touch her skin, feel her taste.

I lowered my head, and she gasped and met my gaze as I cupped her face in my hands.

She rose on those little tip-toes, met me halfway, and the next thing I knew, I crashed my lips against hers, swallowing her gasp of pleasure.

For one heart-stopping moment, she stilled, and I thought she realized this was a mistake. Then she melted against me, her lips parting, inviting me deeper.

I kissed her like a man possessed, like I'd been drowning and she was oxygen. Her mouth was hot and sweet, tasting faintly of wine. I slid my tongue against hers, carved her teeth into memory, felt the ridges in her flesh.

And dear god, how she kissed back. She was ferocious, mewling and moaning into my mouth, arching her back so she could feel my cock against herself. She threaded her fingers through my hair, pushed against it to bring me closer, to leave no space unfelt.

I backed her against a nearby column, partially hidden from the dance floor, and pinned her there with my body. My hands found the hem of her dress, slipping underneath to stroke the bare skin of her thighs.

“Gastone,” she gasped against my mouth and widened her legs, allowing me to feel her inner thighs.

I buried my face in her neck, kissing, nipping, sucking at the pulse point below her ear. She arched against me, her hands pulling at my shirt, seeking skin.

God, how bad I wanted her. I wanted to rip off every cloth and finally see those luscious curves with my own eyes, without any barriers.

“Not here,” I managed to say, though it took everything in me to pull back even an inch. “We need to leave. Now.”

Her eyes were dazed, lips swollen from my kisses, and though she looked disappointed, she nodded.

“Yes,” she nodded, her voice shaky. “Home.”

I took her hand, pulling her through the crowd toward the exit. Outside, I signaled to my driver, who was waiting nearby. The car pulled up, and I all but shoved Elena into the back seat, following her in and slamming the door behind us.

The moment I had the partition put up, Elena was in my lap, straddling me, her dress riding up her thighs. I grabbed her ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh as I pulled her against my erection. She moaned, rolling her hips, creating a delicious friction that made my eyes roll back.

“Fuck, Elena,” I groaned, kissing her again.

Her hands were everywhere. I slid my hands up her back, finding the zipper of her dress and tugging it down a few inches, just enough not to show her ass.

We kissed like teenagers, desperate and clumsy, as the car moved through the city. It wasn't enough—I needed more, needed all of her. But some small part of my brain still functioning reminded me that our first time wouldn't be in the back of a car with my driver up front.

***

The car slowed, and I reluctantly pulled away. Elena's lips were red and swollen, and her hair a mess from my hands. She looked thoroughly debauched, and we hadn't even gotten started.

Gently, I cupped her cheek and whispered, “We’re here,” and looked out of the window to the main house.

She slid off my lap, and we were out of the car within seconds. Hand in hand, we ran to get the elevator.

In the elevator, we couldn't keep our hands off each other. I pushed her against the wall, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around my waist, grinding against her as we kissed. When the doors opened on my floor, I carried her out, still kissing her, blindly making my way to the penthouse door.

I fumbled with the security code, nearly dropping her when she bit my earlobe. “Stop that,” I growled.

“Make me,” she challenged, and I swear my cock hardened even more at the defiance in her tone.

The door finally opened, and we stumbled through. I kicked it shut behind us, pressing Elena against it as I devoured her mouth again. She tugged at my shirt, popping buttons in her hurry, and I responded by grabbing the neckline of her dress and yanking hard.

The sound of a fabric tearing filled the air, and Elena gasped as her dress ripped down the front, leaving her in nothing but her bra.

“Gastone!” she gushed. “That was expensive!”

I grinned against her lips. “I'll buy you a new one,” I promised, then tore it further until the dress just hung off her shoulders, until most of her was for my taking.

I reached for her breasts and cupped them through the lace, teasing her nipples with my fingers. She moaned, the most delightful sound to my ears, and arched into my touch.

Her hands lowered, tugged at my belt, and I was aching for her. I gave her just enough time to throw the belt on the floor before I decided I needed her in my bed, now.

I spun her around, pressing her front against the door as I finished tearing away the remains of her dress. The sight of her near-naked body, those damned curves that had become all I could think of, made me feel dangerously reckless.

I slapped her ass lightly, and she gasped and turned. I caught her, lifting her off her feet. She laughed, a sound of pure joy that hit me like music. I carried her up, kicked open my bedroom door.

She turned in my arms as soon as I set her down, her hands pushing my shirt off my shoulders.

I shrugged out of it, letting it fall to the floor as I backed her toward the bed.

When her knees hit the edge, I gave her a gentle push, watching as she fell back, her hair spreading across my sheets, her body a feast for my eyes.

“You're beautiful,” I said, the words escaping before I could stop them.

She blushed, a shy smile playing at her lips. “Come here,” she said, holding out her arms to me.

I didn't need to be told twice. I covered her body with mine, capturing her mouth in another deep kiss. My hands found the clasp of her bra, unhooking and tossing it aside. Her breasts spilled free, and I broke the kiss to look at them—full and perfect, with dusky pink nipples already hard.

“Gorgeous,” I murmured, lowering my head to take one nipple into my mouth.

Elena gasped, her back arching off the bed as I sucked and licked, my hand kneading her other breast. I lavished attention on her tits, switching from one to the other, driven by her moans and the way her hands clutched at my hair, pulling me closer.

“Gastone,” she panted. “Please.”

I slid down her body, kissing a path across her stomach, dipping my tongue into her navel.

Her panties were soaked, the evidence of her arousal making my cock twitch in anticipation.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband and slowly peeled them down her legs, revealing her pussy, already slick and swollen.

“Fuck, you're wet,” I groaned, my voice thick with desire.

“For you,” she admitted, and the vulnerability in those two words nearly undid me.

I settled between her thighs, spreading her legs wider. The scent of her arousal was intoxicating, making my mouth water. I looked up at her, maintaining eye contact as I lowered my head and dragged my tongue through her folds.

Her taste exploded on my tongue—sweet, tangy, perfect—and I groaned against her. She cried out, her hips bucking against my mouth as I licked and sucked at her clit, sliding one finger, then two, into her tight heat.

“Gastone, oh god,” she moaned, her thighs trembling on either side of my head.

I worked her with my tongue and fingers, curling them to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Her hands fisted in my hair, holding me against her as she rode my face, chasing her pleasure.

I could feel she was close, her inner walls clenching around my fingers, her breathing growing ragged. But I didn't want her to come like this, not yet. I wanted to be inside her when she fell apart.

I pulled back, ignoring her whimper of protest, and quickly shed my pants and boxers. My cock sprang free, hard and aching, precum beading at the tip. Elena's eyes widened as she took in the size of me, her tongue darting out to wet her lips.

I crawled back up her body, positioning myself between her spread thighs. The head of my cock nudged against her entrance, and we both groaned at that first contact.

“Elena,” I said, suddenly needing to be sure. “Tell me you want this.”

Her eyes met mine, clear and certain. “I want this. I want you, Gastone.”

That was all I needed to hear. I pushed forward, slowly sinking into her tight heat.

She was impossibly wet, but still so tight, stretching around me as I filled her inch by inch.

We both moaned when I was fully seated, her nails digging into my back, my forehead pressed against hers as we adjusted to the sensation.

“Move,” she urged after a moment, shifting her hips.

I pulled back and thrust forward, setting a steady rhythm that had her gasping beneath me. She wrapped her legs around my waist, taking me deeper with each thrust. The sight of her—flushed, panting, her breasts bouncing with each movement—was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

“Harder,” she demanded, and I complied, slamming into her with enough force to make the headboard hit the wall.

I shifted my angle, hitting a spot that made her cry out with each thrust. Her pussy clenched around me, drawing me deeper, pulling me toward the edge faster than I wanted. But I was determined to make her come first, to feel her shatter around me.

“Touch yourself,” I commanded, and she slid a hand between us, finding her clit.

The sight of her pleasuring herself while I fucked her was too much. I felt my control slipping, my thrusts becoming erratic as my orgasm built at the base of my spine.

“I'm close,” she gasped, her eyes locked on mine, her fingers working faster.

“Come for me,” I growled, driving into her harder, faster. “Come on, my cock, Elena.”

Her back arched off the bed, her mouth opening in a silent scream as she came, her pussy clamping down on me in rhythmic waves.

The feeling of her coming around me, combined with the look of pure ecstasy on her face, pushed me over the edge.

I thrust deep one last time and exploded, my orgasm tearing through me with an intensity that left me shaking.

For several long moments, we stayed like that, connected, panting, coming down from our shared high. My arms trembled from supporting my weight, and I slowly lowered myself beside her, pulling her close against my chest.

The reality of what we'd just done began to sink in as our breathing returned to normal. I'd just fucked Elena Lebedev.

And it had been the most mind-blowing sex of my life.