Page 47 of My Bratva Stalker

I groan, tasting her skin, feeling her warmth, her need.

“But don’t fucking lie to me, sweet girl.”

Her hips jerk. Her breath breaks. And then she cries out. Loud. Raw. Uncontrolled.

I smirk, pressing my lips to hers, my voice dropping to a growl.

“That’s my good girl.”

Marie

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head.

His smirk widens.

“Yes.”

I dig my nails into his arms, trying to push him away.

He doesn’t budge.

Doesn’t let me go.

He just grinds against me again, his cock sliding between my slick folds, teasing my clit, pressing right where I need him.

And I gasp.

His voice is a dark whisper against my ear.

“Say you don’t want this, printsessa.”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, trying to refuse.

Viktor chuckles, dragging his tongue down my throat, sucking hard on the sensitive skin.

My body arches, my breath shattering.

His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he rocks against me, slow, deep, teasing.

“You’re dripping for me, baby.”

His fingers drag over my pussy, gathering my wetness, rubbing it over my swollen clit.

I bite back a cry.

My thighs snap shut, trying to block him out, but he just spreads me wider.

“Still fighting?”

His voice is so smug.

I fucking hate him. Hate how good he makes me feel.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs, his cockhead pressing against my entrance.

I squeeze my eyes shut, turning my face away.

I can’t.

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