Page 4 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

“Needy little whore,” he mumbled under his breath. Yanking down my thin tank top, he moved his full lips to my left breast, sucking my hardening nipple up with firm strokes of his tongue.

My head fell back further so my long blonde ponytail swung down my back, and I moaned. It didn’t matter what horrible words came out of his sinfully good mouth. My body was reacting to every devilishly good thing he was doing to me. It was just my head that was screaming, telling me not to give in to him.

“Needy—” Yanking me off the edge of the desk, he flipped me over, pushing the top half of my body into the wood. My shorts were yanked down. The cold night air blew across my half naked body, and I shivered. “Little.” My legs were kicked wide, and that’s when I panicked. Was he actually going to do this here? Reality crashed around me, and with it a stomach-churning panic. Using my hands, I tried to lift my breasts from the desk. His hand came down hard between my shoulder blades, pushing me downwards until my breast and cheeks were pressed against the worn wood.

“You’re dripping for me,” he growled out. Sliding between my parted thighs, I felt the first press of his cock against my opening. “Begging for me, aren’t you? Well, then, take it.”

He slammed his hips forward and filled me with one brutal thrust.

I screamed at the painful intrusion, my hands reaching back to try and push him away. “Oh God.” I whimpered; tears felldown my cheeks. “Please.” Wildly, I reached behind me to push at his thighs.

Ilya didn’t hear me, or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. A groan ripped its way out of his throat. “Jesus, you’re tight. You fit me like a fucking glove.” Pulling almost all the way out, he slammed back into me over and over again.

“I wonder,” one arm reached around my hips, his fingers flying over my clit as he circled it, hard. “I wonder how you feel clamping down on me when you cum.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t know what to say to any of the things that had happened since we had been picked up. It was all so unexpected.

And nothing was more unexpected than the fact that I was having sex with Ilya Popovitch.

“That’s it, baby, just like—” he pinched my clit hard, and my body jolted violently; the pain was still there. The tearing, burning agony, but pleasure flowed through me, tightening my body until I cried out and my muscles turned to twitching mush.

A long time passed—so long that my consciousness almost began to blur.

“That.” He slammed into me once more and I felt him spill himself inside of me with a groan. “Was,” he panted, “acceptable.”

As he slid from me, I heard the zipper of his pants being done up and then a harsh intake of breath. But I didn’t move. I just lay there and cried silently.

“What the hell?”

Chapter Two

Ilya

There was blood on my dick, smeared on her thighs as well, and I couldn’t stop looking at it.

"What the hell?" I took a deep breath, my hand hovering over her and shaking, but I didn’t touch her. What the hell had I just done?

"You’re a virgin?" I couldn’t help the bite in my voice, and she heard it. Yanking up her shorts, she straightened. Her spine was stiff, but her whole body was shaking.

Was she trembling because I had hurt her? My nose wrinkled ruefully. Of course I had hurt her. She’d been untouched, and I had been—I swallowed hard.

Fuck.

Reaching out, I touched her shoulder gently, straightening the thin strap of her tank top. "Why?" Moving her towards me, I took her in for the first time. When she had first arrived, I had noticed a pretty face. Clean from makeup and kind of sweet-looking, but I hadn’t really looked at her properly since.

This close, I could see the smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. The way her lashes had a natural curl that kind of gave her a cat-like appearance.

She was beautiful. Naturally stunning.

"You’re a virgin?" I asked again.

She shrugged. The smallest movement of her slender shoulders. "Not anymore, I guess," she whispered.

I couldn’t help the twitch of my lips. Even now she seemed to have a sense of humor. So at least one of us did.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" My voice came out more angry than I meant. Sure, I was angry. Angry at her for not telling me, but mostly angry at myself because I should have asked. I just hadn’t thought. She was in her twenties. What woman who looked like her had never had a lover? It didn’t make any sense.

She moved her shoulders up and down again but didn’t raise her eyes to me. "Would it have made a difference? It wasn’t like I had much choice."