Page 45 of The Russian's Forced Bride
His focus was on the meal, but my eyes glanced over his dark features as I resisted the urge to touch his face.
“No…I’m just glad you’re here,” I replied to his question.
His eyes flicked to mine for a moment, an intensity there that made my skin burn. I could never get used to seeing him look at me like that.
His eyes always examined me intensely, as if I were a piece of art. It felt too personal—and a sadistic part of me enjoyed it.
“I’ll try to make more time,” he then said, turning off the fire and dishing the bacon onto a plate, which he now slid my way.
“No, you don’t have to. I just want to help if there’s any way I can,” I told him, setting the plate he slid my way aside as I spoke, my eyes on his.
I wanted to be useful to him in all ways possible, but he shook his head.
“You’re already doing as much as you can,kroshka. I just want you safe.”
And he meant it—I knew he did. But I couldn’t help but feel like a burden. It was because he was so determined to fulfill his promises to me that he was always so busy.
His hands reached out to gently cup my cheeks as his eyes brushed over my face.
“I just don’t want you making decisions without asking me first. You understand, right?” he asked, his voice low as he inched closer to me, and I nodded.
“Alright, so when do we get to go on a date?” I asked, wrapping my hands around his neck as his head drew closer to mine, our breaths mingling dangerously.
“Date?”
I chuckled airily. “You know, some fancy restaurant or a picnic just in our backyard where we get to know more about each other.”
“You already know me,” he mused, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes seemed guarded—like there was something he was hiding. Something he didn’t want me knowing.
“I want to know everything,” I whispered, my voice soft and sweet like honey as my eyes flickered to his lips.
He didn’t reply but just grabbed my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter so he was now between my legs. Lowering his head, he placed his lips on mine while his hands slipped between my legs and gently stroked my clit.
My body jerked against his fingers as he pleasured me, all the while kissing me, and I could feel my toes curling as he continued to flick my clit aggressively. As the pressure mounted and heat coiled deep in my belly, I found myself grinding against him, searching for as much friction as possible. I rode his fingers, pushing and pushing until, at last, a wave of warmth washed over me, carrying me to my climax.
My moans filled the room as his fingers worked their magic on me—yet it still wasn’t enough.
I wanted to feel his dick buried inside me.
“I want you in me,” I murmured once his lips left mine and moved to the base of my neck, which he sucked hard on.
He paused, his dark gaze meeting mine amid our heavy breathing. Although his eyes were clouded with lust, he still listened to me. He lifted me from the tabletop and laid me on the couch.
And while he slid off his sweatpants, all the while watching me, I took off his shirt that I wore, leaving me vulnerable to him as I spread my legs open, exposing my wet opening to him.
He made his way onto the couch, his naked body in full display as he hovered over me, pulling me closer and inching his dick toward my opening while his hands held my hips. And once his full length slid into me, he began to thrust his hips while I arched my back, gasping at the waves of pleasure that tore through my body at the contact.
He pressed his body against mine, our flesh slapping together as our breathing intertwined. Like a chant, he kept groaning my name, sinking in deeper and deeper until it felt like he wanted to consume me entirely.
All the while, I could only moan his name in response as his hot breath brushed my face and my nails dug into his back skin, leaving bruises.
“Faster, Rafael,” I ordered, desperate.
I’d expected him to be irritated at my request, but instead, he heeded my words, driving into me faster and faster, until my body started to jerk uncontrollably underneath him as my orgasm washed over me.
But he didn’t stop. He continued his wild thrusts, the tip of his dick brushing against my clit and causing me to gasp and mutter a curse.
The pleasure he always gave me was impossible to explain—but beyond that, there was a hollow feeling in my heart and a deeper longing remained.
