Page 40 of Innocently Captured By the Bratva

Chapter 16 - Mark

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white as I race through the dark streets. Anticipation for what’s to come pulses through my veins with each rev of the engine. For so long, I’ve had Quinn on my mind, conjuring images of everything I want to do with her. Tonight, she’s ready to be mine. Quinn sits beside me, her eyes wide and chest heaving, occasionally stealing glances my way. I feel my veins throb against the purr of the V8.

My gaze darts to her, drinking in the sight—hair tousled by the wind from the open windows, cheeks flushed, lips parted. I reach over and take her hand, bringing it up to my lips before setting it down. She tilts her head at me, her eyes drinking in the sight of my body. Desire pounds through me, urging me faster. Faster. Have to get her home. Now.

The tires screech as I whip the car into the driveway. I'm out in a flash, barely remembering to slam it into park. In two strides, I'm at Quinn's door, wrenching it open.

I pull her from the car and into my arms, my mouth claiming hers in a kiss filled with tongues, teeth, and desperation. She responds with equal ardor, her fingers digging into my shoulders as her back hits the car from the intensity of my kiss.

I break away, panting. “Inside. Now.”

Quinn nods, her eyes glazed with desire. I take her hand and nearly drag her to the front door, fumbling with my key. It takes three attempts before I finally manage to get the damn thing open. It’s late, and all the house staff are fast asleep.

As soon as we're across the threshold, I spin and press Quinn against the wall, caging her in with my body. I feel themad thrum of her pulse where my lips meet her throat. She fists her hands in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer.

God, the sounds she makes—breathy little gasps and mewls that shoot straight to my groin. I palm her breast through her shirt, reveling in the weight of it, the hardened peak of her nipple against my thumb.

I want to devour her. Consume her. Meld her body to mine until I don't know where I end and she begins. It's visceral, this need, and primal. Unlike anything I've ever felt before.

Dimly, I register that we're still in the foyer. I tear my mouth from Quinn's with a labored breath. “My room or yours?”

“Whichever is nearest,” she says, breathlessly.

“Mine then,” I grin. I bend and hook an arm behind her knees, hoisting her up. She lets out a startled squeak that morphs into a moan as I suck at the sensitive spot behind her ear.

Each step is agony, the ache in my core building to an inferno. I stagger up the stairs and down the hall, Quinn's slight weight hardly registering. All I can focus on is getting her naked, sinking into her heat. Losing myself to the madness...

I kick open the door and set her down, grabbing her waist and bringing my lips to hers again. She moans and reaches for my tie, loosening it before casting it aside. I walk her backwards against the door, shutting it close behind us.

She wraps her legs around me, and I lift her effortlessly, her soft curves aligning perfectly with my rigid edges. Our lips mold together in a feverish dance, the taste of her driving me to the brink of insanity. She’s clutching to my shirt and I carry her onto my bed, gently throwing her down on it.

She looks up at me with a grin. “Impatient, are we?”

I growl and jump in, my knees on either side of her hips, anchoring her in. “You’ve been in my head, Quinn,” I tease, taking her hands and holding them above her head, against the bed.

“Should I apologize?” She arches into me, giving me a look that can only be comprehended as a challenge. A challenge to take her.

“No apologies necessary,” I hold her wrists between one hand, and take my other hand to the buttons of her blouse. My hand shakes as I unbutton it swiftly. A button or two fly, but I don’t care. I want her. Now. Within seconds, her top is undone, her breasts rising and falling through that black lace bra. I release her hands, needing both free to feel her, to caress every inch of this delectable body.

“God,” I whisper into her ear, biting at her lobe. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Mark…” she moans when my hands reach beneath her back and with one single flick, undo the hook of her bra. Her breasts spill free, and I slide my hands beneath her neck, pulling her up. She rests on her forearms as I slowly slide off her shirt, the straps of her bra. She trembles the whole time, before her head falls back on the soft pillow.

Her chest rises and falls rapidly as I hover over her, capturing every detail of her flushed face, her parted lips, her eyes glazed with desire. My fingers trace a path down her body, igniting goosebumps in their wake, before I trace back to her nipple and give it a flick. I dip my head low, sucking on her soft breasts. She tastes like temptation and everything I shouldn’t want but crave with every fiber of my being.

She runs her fingers through my hair, and I feel her come alive for me as she bucks her hips towards me, hinting for more.She pulls my head up and forces me to look at her. Her eyes meet mine, green fireworks in the dim light. “Mark.”

“Shh.” I silence her with a searing kiss, one that leaves us both panting. My hand slides down to her jeans, working the zipper, and she lifts her hips obligingly. Her skin beneath my fingertips is like silk over heated steel as I pull down her pants, and then slide my fingers through her panties, pulling them down next. I groan, and it comes out more like a growl than anything else.

I sit up on my knees, take in the sight of her completely naked form. The swell of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curves of her hips. She’s a living, breathing piece of art.

I tear my gaze from her breasts, rosy and aching for my lips, and slide a hand up between her thighs. She parts her legs, trembling as I cup her at the apex. The way she lurches off the bed before falling back down when I slide a finger into her and flick her clit hits me right at the cock. Within seconds, I shed off all my clothes, knowing neither of us can wait any longer. She’s wetter than a riverbed.

I position myself at her entrance, then reach for her cheek, asking gently for her consent one last time. “You sure about this?”

Her only answer is to wrap her legs around my waist and pull me closer.

“God, Quinn,” I whisper into her ear. “You're wetter than sin.”

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