Page 14 of Kidnapped By the Mafia Boss
Allowing her to feel more of my weight pressed close, I bring her wrists together. I grip them both in one hand, and touch thefingertips of the other to her jaw. Then, stroking slowly to her chin, I tip her face up. Her pink, bow lips drop open.
“So pretty,” I murmur. “You’ve really never been kissed before?”
She shakes her head, and forms the word, “No.”
It creates a perfect little pout.
An invitation I can’t resist. Bowing my head, I bring our mouths closer, almost touching. Sharing breaths and feeling the tension between us. I savour the moment. I linger, brushing my lips close to hers.
“Voronov…”
I’d take every first this innocent beauty gave me. All of them, if she let me. Introduce her to the pleasures of life. Heart-pounding, spine tingling, delicious.
Sweet.
Because as I allow my mouth to finally meet hers, it’s gentle and soft, in contrast to how I caught her and how I’m holding her, uncompromisingly tight. I give her as tender a kiss as a new lover.
I tease and stroke. I delight in a kiss that’s innocent, then delve deeper. I lick over the seam of her lips, and she opens, allowing me in.
I take it slow. Not a shocking demand as my body wants, or a possessive grasp as my heart yearns for. No, I allow her all the honey-slow time she needs to understand her reactions and mine, and to feel the wet slide of how we’ll fit together in other ways. Not just my tongue in her mouth, but my hardness where she’s soft. And she responds with a moan from the back of her throat and softening, yielding to me.
She shifts on the thigh I’ve forced between her legs. Not trying to get away, but as though she’s attempting to close the non-existent distance between us. She moves back and forth likean eight pattern, never far from me as our lips go from first kiss to filthy, open-mouthed desires.
My hand tightens on her wrists, and she rubs against me faster and with more intent, losing her inhibitions.
My brain futzes out like a streamed movie with spotty Wi-Fi. She’s grinding against my thigh.
She’s really, really getting off on our kiss. I open my eyes and this close, she’s impossible to focus on, but she’s real. This is happening.
The woman I’ve been stalking is rubbing her clit against me. And while in all conscience I can’t take what I most want—the virginity I’m certain she still has—I can be what she needs right now.
If my girl needs to get off?
I’ll be everything she desires.
But I’m not letting her get away without admitting it.
. . .
5 days ago
When he catches me, and overwhelms me with his power and strength, it’s not just him who won the chase.
It’s my win too. I won his absolute attention. I gloried in the sensation of being his focus and his world as he hunted me down. And I revel in being his prize.
—CATCHMEKISSME
6
JENNA
“Jenna,” he says severely, pulling back from our kiss. “You’re rubbing your little virgin pussy on my thigh.”
I freeze.
So. Caught.
I don’t know why I thought he wouldn’t notice. I was distracted by how good my clit felt, how big he is over me, and how insanely turned on I am by our chase.
