Page 71 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan

I take a moment to just look—the curve of her spine, the way her dark hair falls forward over one shoulder, the smooth expanse of skin waiting to be marked by my hands.

“Pavel—” She starts to turn her head.

“Eyes forward.” I press one hand between her shoulder blades, keeping her bent over. “Stay exactly like this.”

My other hand slides down her spine slowly, feeling her shiver under the touch. When I reach the curve of her ass, I grip one cheek firmly, spreading her slightly so I can see how wet she already is.

“Beautiful,” I murmur, running one finger through her slick heat. “You’re already soaking for me.”

She makes a needy sound, trying to push back against my hand. “Please—”

“Please what?” I circle her entrance with my finger, not pushing in yet. “Tell me exactly what you want, Serena.”

“I want—” She gasps when I finally push one finger inside. “Ineedyou to fuck me until I can’t think about anything except how you feel.”

The crude demand makes me add a second finger, working her open while my thumb finds her clit. “Like this?”

“Yes! More Pavel, please—”

I work her with deliberate precision, building her toward orgasm with fingers and thumb until she’s trembling and making desperate sounds. Just when I feel her inner muscles starting to flutter, I withdraw completely.

“Not yet.” I grip her hips with both hands, positioning myself at her entrance. “You don’t come until I’m inside you. Until you’re full of my cock and begging.”

“I’m already begging.”

I push inside in one slow, controlled thrust, filling her completely. We both groan at the sensation of her heat gripping me, impossibly tight from this angle.

“God, you feel perfect,” I manage, holding myself still despite every instinct screaming to move. “Every time I’m inside you, it’s like—”

I don’t finish the thought, just pull back and thrust again. The angle lets me drive impossibly deep, hitting spots that make her cry out with each stroke.

I set a rhythm that’s harder than careful—driven by need and fear and the overwhelming relief of having her here, alive, safe beneath me. My fingers dig into her hips hard enough to bruise, holding her steady while I take what I need.

“Use me,” I order, one hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair. “I want to feel you come on my cock.”

She shifts her weight to one arm, sliding along my pulsing cock.

“That’s it,” I encourage, my rhythm becoming more erratic. “Make yourself come, Serena. Show me you’re mine.”

“Yours,” she gasps, her fingers moving faster.

The declaration combined with her tightening grip pushes me right to the edge. I feel her orgasm building, feel the way her entire body tenses with approaching release.

“Come,” I demand, pulling her hair just hard enough to arch her back further. “Come for me now.”

She shatters with a gasp, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around me. The sensation destroys what’s left of my control. I bury myself to the hilt and still, my release pulsing into her while pleasure whites out conscious thought.

We stay locked together for several long moments, both breathing hard, my body covering hers protectively.

Finally I pull out carefully and turn her to face me, needing to see her expression. Her face is flushed, eyes dark with satisfaction, lips swollen from my kisses.

“Come here,” I murmur, guiding her fully onto the bed before following her down.

She settles against my side immediately, her head on my chest where she can hear my heartbeat gradually slowing. My arm wraps around her automatically, holding her close.

“Jesus.” She struggles for words.

“Couldn’t have phrased it better myself.”