Page 22 of Bratva's Stolen Bride
Acceptance of this girl I shouldn’t touch, shouldn’t have, is heady.
She’s mine. The thought is raw and primal, as intense as the instinct to chase her down when she tried to swim away.
Mine. Mine to protect, mine to care for, mine to pleasure until she’s wrung out and exhausted.
Her tongue meets mine, and the salty, wet slide makes my mouth water. I need more.
One of my hands shifts up, almost without my say-so, and cups the back of her head, bringing her closer to me. Angling our heads so I can kiss her deeper, I let myself just feel this moment of her in my arms, in the sea where I caught her, with no questions because our tongues are dancing together. The water is soft and warm, the top few inches heated compared to the cooler currents that swirl around my legs.
Later is the time for doubt on her side, and guilt on mine.
With every second that passes I’m more certain that leaving Payton is impossible, and not keeping close will break me.
I crush her to me, and this kiss has gone feral. My cock is aching for the relief of being in her, an iron bar between us. Undeniable. And there’s an unexpected hunger too.
I’d like to breed this girl.
Not a thought I’ve ever had before. I kick steadily to keep us both afloat, but that’s not what steals all the breath from my lungs. No, it’s the idea of sending jets of seed up into her fertile womb. It’s a fiery craving that burns at my skin like the tropical sun drying the seawater on my face and baking on the salt. Bind her to me. Make a family, deliberately. A wife and children I’d protect and nurture.
Payton seems innocent, but the eager way she kisses me now that she’s in my arms tells me how we’d be together. Explosive.
I ease my hand down until it’s holding her bottom, and she’s grinding against the length of my erection in time to the sway of the water. And perhaps it’s the curve of her peachy little arse that snaps my self-control. Because a kiss isn’t enough.
I need to feel her come, and we’re too far out to do that.
Gripping her hair in my fist, I separate our mouths and look into her eyes. Pale-blue as the horizon, and just as clear.
My cock throbs with demand.
“Did you like it when I swam after you?” I ask simply.
Her mouth falls open, a perfect little pink “O”. Her lips are wet and pink, and a bit swollen from the intensity of our kiss.
“Did I…?” She blinks.
I tug her hair, pulling her head back to reveal her sensitive neck.
She lets out a little cry, and her hips writhe against me.
“When we’re on dry land, I’m going to make you scream. But I’m reasonable.” I’m not. “I’ll give you a chance to get away, what, to the other side of the island?” I have a suspicion what we’ll find if we go there, and it’s not just the diving spot. Her pupils are blown despite the sun.
Payton gets a look that I’m beginning to recognise. She’s planning something. “I need a head start.”
“Of course.” I release her, and she pushes away.
“When I’m halfway to the beach, you can come after me.”
I grin. I enjoy a challenge, and moya lisichka clearly thinks she’s fast.
“Go on then.” I judge the distance. I’ll get her. “Ten, nine.” Her eyes go wide, and then she hurls herself through the water. And however quick I thought she was before, I’m impressed now. She doesn’t hold anything back, swimming with a smooth, efficient stroke that’s almost as fast as mine.
I smile as I keep counting down, speaking louder so she can hear me.
This girl. She’s stronger than she looks, and she’s motivated.
So am I.
My muscles vibrate with the need to get after her. To seize her. To have her in my arms again after a chase.
