The Bratva’s Innocent Bride: Forced Marriage Mafia Romance (Milov Bratva Brides Book 6) by Veda Rose

Author:Veda Rose [Rose, Veda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14 - Fiona

When Boris’s hands squeeze my hips, lifting me up and over the side of the bed, there are two things running through my mind: first, that he is going to open his wound, and second, finally.

As soon as I’m settled on his lap, I can feel him hard through his shorts, and I rock instinctively, making him hiss through his teeth. He can’t reach me, so I lean down to him, loving the control as I kiss up and over his chest before finally meeting his lips with mine.

The stubble around his mouth rubs against my face. He sighs into my mouth. I grind against him, and he puts a hand in my hair, pulling me closer. I want every single part of him. To be as close as I can get to him, then even closer than that.

He smells like soap and alcohol wipes. The room is fragrant with the flowers Anya keeps bringing. Distantly, I register that the door is locked, that I locked it before doing Boris’s bandages because Anya walked in last time and nearly passed out.

Boris’s hands are on the hem of my camisole, groping, grasping, and then he puts his palm flat against my stomach. It’s like every nerve ending in my body lights on fire at his touch, his fingers kneading into my skin, working their way up. He stops just under my breasts, and I realize he can’t reach any higher.

I let out a breathy laugh against his lips, then pulled back for a moment so I could reach down and strip the camisole over my head.

I’ve been going bra-less while taking care of him, just to be more comfortable. I realize now that it’s a decision that may have led me to this very moment, driving Boris so crazy with desire that he had no choice but to pull me into his lap.

And what a glorious lap it is. I can feel, through the thin fabric of my shorts and his, that he’s hard and he’s big. My core throbs with need and I feel myself getting wet at the thought of getting him inside me, how he might pant and bury his face in the crook of my neck, how he might grip my hips and maneuver me the way he wants.

Obviously, in his current state, he’s not going to be doing much heavy lifting, but I can’t stop thinking about all the ways I want Boris to take me. I want to feel his tongue on my clit, want to ride his face, want him to grip my hips until he leaves a bruise there.

“Fuck,” he whispers when my breasts are bare in front of him, and I lean forward, planting a hand on the wall above his head so I can lean over his face. He lifts his chin, taking one of my nipples into his mouth, and I almost collapse at the pleasure that courses through me.

With his hands on my hips, rocking me

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