Page 46 of Forbidden Bratva Virgin

I never knew what it felt like to have a man buried inside me, and I doubted that his cock would fit, but I wanted to feel Miron more badly than I could express. I wanted him so deep that he could touch my soul.

“Miron…” I whimpered. “I need you.”

Broken and shattered, yet craving a man who was promised to another. If this wasn’t madness, I wondered what was.

He lifted his head, stretching above me to a drawer, and pulled out a shiny foil packet. With his teeth, he ripped it and skillfully rolled down the condom to sheath his terrifying length.

His fingers spread the wet lips of my pussy, and I shivered when he kissed my shoulder.

“You’re beautiful, even more than I imagined,” he rasped.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I wound my arms around his neck, and I was sure he saw the fear in my eyes because he kissed my neck and breathed, “I’ll be gentle.”

His fingers traced the outer layers of my pussy, teasing and circling my clitoris. I sucked in a sharp breath when stars dotted my vision.

Something hard poked me, and I looked down to see his glistening head prying its way inside me.

At first, it stung, and I winced, regulating my breathing and forcing my body to relax so I could adjust to his size.

“Tell me if it hurts.”

I nodded, and he pulled out. And went in again, balancing both of his arms beside me as he pushed his hip and urged his cock to plunge deeper.

A blend of pain and pleasure ripped through me at the same time, and my hand flew to his arm, fingernails biting into his taut skin.

“Miron…” I gasped. But he didn’t stop. Not until, finally, my walls tightened around him, letting him in.

His head dropped to my shoulder, his eyes shut, and a groan rumbling through his chest. “You’re so fucking tight,moy dorogaya Kheyzel.”

I was so distracted by the sting of the stretch that I couldn’t focus on what he said. My pulse was racing, and the more I looked, the more beautiful he was.

I caressed his strong jaw, ran my fingers through his hair, and flicked my tongue against his mouth.

“Miron, this is so wrong,” I moaned.

“I know. I know, Hazel. But you’re so fucking right.” He pushed into me, literally burying his face in my hair.

His other hand gripped my thigh, guiding me, controlling the slow, aching roll of our hips. And before my eyes, I watched Miron shudder and tremble. I watched his restraint dissolve like mist in the morning sun.

“I’m going deeper.” His voice was brittle, but his eyes held a warmth I had never seen there before. It was more than just a heads-up; he was making sure I was okay.

“I can take you.” My heart thumped like a marching band when I kissed his lips and murmured the next words. “I want you, Miron.”

With a growl, he raised my hips with one hand, fixed the other behind my head, and slammed into me with just enough force to drive a wedge into the ground.

I muffled a scream. And he nipped my neck with his teeth, grazing hard enough to leave a mark. “I want to hear everything. Moan for me,moy dorogaya Kheyzel.”

The pain zapped first, followed by the tingles of an awakening hunger and inane lust. But I obeyed and moaned like he wanted me to, because he felt good.

His exquisite face contorted in ecstasy with each powerful thrust, his fingers digging into my leg as he devoured me. The agony and ecstasy blurred, and time lost all meaning. He repositioned me, his hands firm but gentle, and took me with a primal intensity that left me breathless.

Miron pounded into me, trembling and muttering strings of Russian above me as he took me mercilessly but with consideration. He rode me hard and harder, cancelling all the noises of the pain from Nathan’s betrayal and the nagging voice of reason that we were repeating the same cycle of hurt on his fiancée.

In the moment, it was just me and him.

Him for me, and me for him.

I held onto him tight as my climax peaked, and he mumbled in my ear that he was coming.

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