Page 7 of Captured By the Masked BRATVA
Somewhere between breaths I murmur against her mouth, “This is your warning. If we do this, you belong to me.”
“I already do,” she answers.
That’s it. The last thread snaps. I lift her and her legs automatically wrap around my waist. Her hands cup my face as she continues to kiss me, her tongue finding mine and twisting in a dance so primal it wakes up part of me that I didn’t know existed. When I lay her on the bed she already looks ruined beneath me, her lips swollen, her eyes still wet, her hair falling from the the pins that hold it up in wavy tendrils.
I find the top of the zip under her arm and pull downwards, peeling the dress away from her and slowly revealing her bare curves beneath. When I’ve pulled the dress from her completely, she lies there in just a plain pink thong and I’m struck by her beauty.
Pulling my own clothes off quickly, I climb over her and begin kissing her again. Taking in the way she feels and tastes with my tongue. Dropping kisses over her jaw and neck, working my way down to her glorious tits. I take one nipple in my mouth and suck hard, before swapping to the other side. She arches, mewling at the contact, the flick of my tongue over her nipple.
My hand slides down her side, finding the elastic of her thong and sliding beneath it.
“You’re already wet for me,” I say, pressing my fingers against her entrance, but not inside.
Her response is a moan as she grinds her core against the palm of my hand.
“You’re so responsive,” I say, watching her face as her eyelids flutter shut. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?”
“No,” she replies on a gasp. “I told you. There’s never been anyone, ever.” Her voice has taken on a whiny quality that would usually turn me off, but now it’s driving me insane in a completely different way. My cock throbs and pre-cum leaks from the tip.
She is a virgin. Never been touched. Walked into this room ready to die that way. Quietly asked for it not to be.
Now I’m going to ruin her for death himself. Break her into a shape that will only ever fit me in every lifetime. The thought makes me harder still and I have to close my eyes for a second to keep control.
“Fuck, Elena, I’m not going to be gentle.” I squeeze her breast hard, as if to punctuate my point.
She winces. “I didn’t ask you to be gentle, Artem. I need it to hurt.”
Her words stop the air in my lungs.I need it to hurt.
For a heartbeat, I almost tell her no, not because I’m gentle, but because I understand too well what she means.
She isn’t asking for pain. She’s asking to feelsomethingthat isn’t the constant, grinding ache of loss. And God help me, I understand that better than anyone. The grief has hollowed us both out; now we’re just trying to fill the empty space with heat, breath, touch, anything that proves we’re still alive.
For months I’ve wanted to burn the world down just to see if the flames could reach me. Now she’s here, shaking, looking at me like maybe I could be the fire instead.
Something inside me gives way. Not the part that wants control, that’s still there, coiled tight, but the part that’s been locked behind grief.
She’s asking me to be the flame, to burn through the cold that’s been choking her. I recognise it because it’s the same cold that’s lived in me since the night Lev died. Maybe that’s why I can’t walk away.
I lift her chin so she has to look at me. Her eyes are bright, fierce through the tears. There’s no fear in them, only need.
“You think pain will fix this?” I ask.
Her breath catches. “No. But none of it will matter when I’m dead.”
That’s when I understand. She’s not chasing punishment. She’s trying to remember what it feels like toexist.Even if it’s only for the last moments of her life.
The distance between us disappears. Everything that’s been suffocating me, rage, guilt, loneliness, condenses into one unbearable moment of wanting. For the first time in months, the emptiness inside me isn’t winning.
I lower myself down her body, pulling off her thong and parting her knees. Her centre is perfect, glistening with her juices and ripe for attention.
The first swipe of my tongue is just to map her anatomy, when she bucks I move my hands to her hips and pin her down.
Then I eat her pussy like a man starved. I don’t stop, not when she is moaning, begging or pleading. I keep licking at her lips and clit like my life depends on it. She tastes divine, and every time she makes another sound I double down and work herharder. I slide a finger in and hook it to reach that place that should undo her. When her back arches from the bed, I suck her clit hard and watch as the orgasm consumes her.
When it subsides, her body is flushed pink and trembling. Her eyes are hooded when she lifts her head and looks down at me as I kiss the insides of her thighs.
When her breathing returns to normal, I slowly make my way back up her body, trailing pre-cum where the tip of my cock touches her, and take a nipple into my mouth. She shudders.
