Page 47 of The Bratva's Arranged Virgin Bride
“Oh my God, I wish people still used cash,” she said once the doors were locked and we counted up the final tally. “We could roll naked in it.”
“Cash is disgustingly filthy,” I said, then winked at her. “But I’m ready to get naked whenever you are.”
We had pulled the curtains, and the gallery was lit by a few antique lamps that lent a cozy glow. She grinned down at our numbers, and goosebumps actually rose on her arms.
“Hey,” I said, reaching to smooth them down with my fingertips. “I’m getting a little jealous. Of money.”
“Your first and only love,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.
Maybe that had been true once, but no longer. I was completely besotted by Nat in that moment, in that glittering dress, I couldn’t wait to peel off of her. She sighed, suddenly looking melancholy.
“What?” I asked.
She shrugged. “I don’t feel guilty, because everything was so good, but… that’s the thing. It was all really good. Why do people need fantastical backstories and for things to be authenticated in order to appreciate it?”
I got where she was going. Some of the stories we made up were pretty farfetched, especially since we couldn’t actually produce the artists or risk blowing everything. None of the college kids who did our paintings knew what we were doing, probably assuming we were decorators filling up hotel rooms with our work.
So far, we had created a paraplegic shut-in who had so much social anxiety that she never left her tiny flat in London. Another of our brilliant artists was so damaged that he threw himself off a bridge, leaving behind a note leading to a storage unit crammed with his tortured visions. For the next show, we planned on featuring someone so deep in hiding from his corrupt government that he couldn’t even sign his paintings with anything other than a cryptic symbol.
“It’s just the way it is,” I sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, you can think of it as selling the story as well as the art.”
She grinned, all her wistfulness dissipating. The gleam was back in her eyes. “I make up some kickass stories, don’t I?”
“Everyone was riveted,” I said, leaning closer and pushing aside the adding machine between us on the counter. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”
“Hey, I thought you were going to take something else off me,” she said, leaning across the counter so our lips were almost touching. “I can’t wait to get out of this dress.”
“I’m not going to make you wait.” With my hand already tangling in her intricate updo, I brought her mouth to mine while I rounded the counter.
In seconds, our bodies collided. Her hair tumbled down in a silky mass around her shoulders as I slid the zipper down, freeing all the creamy skin of her back. Smoothing my palm beneath the glittery fabric, I gripped her lush ass cheeks.
With a gasp, she wrapped her arms around my neck, grinding against the stiff length of my cock, already hard as a rock for her. Her tongue met mine with the sweet taste of champagne. I was becoming crazed with desire for her. We never would have made it home.
The dress wasn’t rented like I’d assured Vissarion, but I ripped the straps in my haste to see every inch of Nat’s body. When it puddled to the floor around her ankles, she stepped out of it and kicked it aside, like a queen. My queen.
With a flick of my wrist, her bra was off, and I launched myself at her ripe tits, rolling her pink nipples between my lips, nipping at her until she squealed. She wrapped her leg around my hip, rubbing her hot little pussy against my cock. I backed her up against the counter, never taking my mouth from the puckered buds of her nipples. Lifting her up, I began kissing my way down as soon as she was planted on the smooth marble counter.
She leaned back, moaning when I spread her legs wide and tore away the soaked scrap of fabric keeping me from her wet heat. She clamped her thighs around my head as I lapped upher juices, circling my tongue around her swollen clit and diving deep into her dripping cunt.
“Fuck, you’re delicious,” I groaned, licking her until she was panting.
She pushed hard against my mouth, begging me for more.
“Deeper, harder,” she said, driving me even wilder.
I loved hearing her beg for me, for my cock. It was a rare treat, and I wanted it now. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, little girl.”
“Put your cock in me,” she said instantly, on the verge of tears as I slid my tongue over her aching clit again and again. Dragging it away before she could come. “Ram, your big cock in me so hard I scream. Oh God, Kolya, please.”
I finally gave her the release she needed, pushing my fingers into her tight hole as she spasmed. She was naked and trembling, wet and ready, and I still had my damn pants on.
Not for long. As soon as my cock was free, she grabbed it, stroking fiercely, making feral noises that made me almost shoot all over her hand.
“Let me suck you,” she pleaded, but I was already pulling her body close to me.
I needed her pussy, needed to fill her up and hear her scream again. “Later,” I growled. She could make me stiff with just a glance. “Right now, I’m going to give you what you begged for. Every inch in your hot little pussy.”
I was breathing hard, like a racehorse at the end of the track, but I eased my fingers inside her again, watching her eyes roll back as I teased her clit with my thumb. Her hips bucked, her legs tightened around me, drawing me closer. My cock pulsed.
