Sinful Bride (Belaya Bratva 3) - Page 30

When I reached for the borrowed shirt, Gavril caught my hand, forcing it away. “It’s my turn,” he said, a devilish glint in his eyes. “To unwrap my present.”

My hands dropped away and he eased the shirt over my head, divesting my body of my bra a moment later. His large hands covered my tender breasts and I sucked in a breath, the sensation of his skin against mine ten times more than normal.

“They have gotten bigger,” he remarked as his fingers grazed my erect nipples. “I wonder if they taste as good as they look?”

All I could do was whimper as he dropped to his knees before me, his cock proudly jutting out from his body. The pakhan, the strongest man I knew, was kneeling before me. Every time he did it, I couldn’t fathom why he thought I was strong enough to be in his life.

Gavril took my breast into his mouth and suckled hard, sending a white-hot streak of pleasure barreling straight to my core.

God, he could bring me to my knees with his lips, his mouth!

When he switched to the other side, I threaded my hands in his hair and let him feast on my breast, my entire body trembling with need. I knew he was worshiping me like I had done him, but I wanted more.

I wanted so much more.

His hands started to tug on the waistband of my leggings and he pulled them down, never once letting up his pressure on my breast, even nipping at my sore nipple to the point of pain, but I loved it.

I loved it all.

When I kicked my leggings aside, Gavril lifted his head, his eyes nearly feral with need. “I can smell your arousal,” he breathed. “Shall I taste it?”

“Gavril,” I moaned as his lips lit a fire from the gentle bump that had just recently showed up overnight to my hip bone, then to the other, teasing me just a little as he did so.

“You are so wet,” he murmured, his finger tracing my slit, giving me just enough but no more. “For me.”

“Yes,” I groaned. “Yes.”

Gavril pushed my legs apart, his thumb brushing over my clit, and I jumped, the contact shearing every nerve in my body. I wanted him to touch me, to taste.

To own me.

His mouth settled on my slit, and I moaned low in my throat as his tongue found my swollen clit, stroking it.

With each sinful move of his tongue, he stoked the fires higher. My breasts tightened to the point of pain, my stomach clenching at the anticipation of how strong my orgasm was going to be.

Gavril slipped a finger inside my wet warmth and I whimpered, my hands finding his shoulders and clinging to them to keep myself upright. I could feel the pressure mounting, the delicious tingling that would turn into full-blown bliss with just a few touches. My entire body would shatter under the right touch.

All I needed was for him to give it to me.

But Gavril was relentless, easing off when I was close, his finger lazily moving in and out of me without any sort of rhythm as if he was teasing me, seeing how far he could take me before I lost it. “Gavril,” I panted, my fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Please.”

He lifted his head, my mouth shiny from my own wetness. “I do love it when you beg.”

“Quit playing,” I begged, wanting to come hard and fast. “I’m so close.”

His grin grew, and he swiped his hand over his mouth. “I’m not even close to being done with you.”

He was going to stop. I needed release. I needed to feel it with Gavril so that he could wipe away any feelings that Jon had bestowed on me, any dark thoughts that had attacked me and made me feel like Jon was winning. “Don’t stop,” I whispered. If he did, I would have to finish myself off, and that would be a complete and utter letdown.

Gavril must have seen something in my eyes because he rose to his feet and gently led me to the bed, laying me on his dark gray comforter with my legs hanging off the bed. “Open your legs for me,” he murmured.

I did so with relish, watching as he knelt against the side of the bed and pulled me to his mouth. His lips were warm against my inner thigh, his hand clamping down on my hip as I tried to wiggle closer. “You’re being too slow,” I mumbled, which earned a laugh from him against my skin.

“Patience,” he said, moving to the other thigh and doing the same torturous kissing there. The higher he got, the wetter I got, and by the time he settled his lips against my center, I nearly cried out in relief.

“Yes,” I breathed as his tongue found my throbbing clit once more, his finger resuming his position from earlier. “Yes, right there.”

Gavril didn’t stop, opening me wider so that he could take my clit between his lips and suck hard.

That was all it took. “Gavril!” I screamed, bunching my hands into the comforter as the waves of my release washed over me. He had given me what I wanted.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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