Page 77 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

He groans, the sound low and rumbling in his chest. “I love you too, baby,” he rasps in a deep, husky tone. “I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything else.”

I smile against his lips.

In one fluid motion, he lifts me against him as if I weigh nothing. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, the friction of our bodies sending a sudden, sharp jolt of electricity straight to my core.

He lowers me onto the bed without breaking our kiss and I lean up into him, desperate to relish the warmth of his skin.

Igor hovers over me, stripping away our clothing breathlessly. His eyes don’t leave mine, not even for a moment.

When we’re both naked, he crawls on top of me. Our bare skin meets and the sensation of his chest pressing against mine makes my nipples grow hard.

Fuck.

I unravel when he starts to kiss his way down my jaw, his lips leaving a hot trail in their wake as they trace the sensitive column of my throat and then down to the hollow of my collarbone.

My core pulses when he bites me there lightly. It’s a tiny nip that makes my hips arch off the bed, seeking more of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers against my skin. “God. You’re so perfect, Audrey. So perfect.”

His hands map every inch of me, tracing the curve of my waist and the flare of my hips, leaving fire in their wake. His touch is no longer gentle. It’s hungry and demanding, and when his fingers slip between my thighs, finding me already slick and aching for him, a groan rumbles deep in his throat.

He strokes me slowly, teasing me with the tip of his finger and driving me closer and closer to the edge until I’m writhing beneath his touch, my fingers clutching the sheets.

God, this is too torturous.

My patience is about to snap and I’m hungry to have him inside me, to feel the thickness of him stretching my insides until I’m breathless.

As if he can hear my thoughts, he positions himself between my thighs and braces his weight on his forearms, his eyes locking onto mine with fierce devotion.

My cheeks heat and a flush creeps up my neck. Too embarrassed to look into his eyes, I glance away.

“Look at me,” he murmurs. “I want you to look into my eyes while I make love to you.”

My stomach flutters.

Not fuck.

Make love.

We’re making love, not simply fucking because we’re sexually attracted to each other. That realization makes me want him inside me even more.

I tilt my head, drowning in the depth of his gaze as he slowly pushes inside me. The fullness of him fills the empty, aching void in an instant.

I let out a ragged cry. My hands find his shoulders and my nails dig into his skin as I stretch to accommodate him. He pauses, letting me adjust, and presses his forehead to mine as he lets out a shaky breath.

“It feels so good to be inside you,” he rasps. Then he begins to move, slowly at first, in a deep, sensual rhythm that has me gasping for breath. For more.

Each thrust finds my most sensitive spots, sending waves of intense pleasure rippling through my lower abdomen. Then he goes faster, the heat in the room rising as his thrusts get faster and deeper and sweeter.

My legs wrap tighter around his waist, urging him to go even deeper and faster.

He meets my pace, his breathing against my ear harsh and uneven as his movements become more urgent. The world narrows down to the sliding of his skin against mine, the scent of wood and musk, and the unbearable pleasure building inside me.

My head thrashes against the pillow as the tension grows tighter, a coil of pure electricity ready to snap. His thumb finds my clitoris and circles it. The pressure and the sweet sensation that follows is so intense that I’m screaming with pleasure and my legs shake beyond control.

“Igor, I’m going to…” I gasp, my eyes rolling all the way back as the first wave of climax hits.

“Come on my dick, baby. I want to feel you come,” he growls, his pace accelerating into a relentless, desperate drive.