Stolen by the Mob Boss : A Russian Mafia Romance (Bratva Hitman) Nicole Fox (unputdownable books TXT) 📖

her side, enjoying the way her waist flares out. I dig my fingers into her flesh. “You have been warned that you won’t like it if I have to force you.”

Her pink lips part in surprise before slamming shut. Her dark brows lower, and she glares at me with more hatred than I’ve ever seen before. “Beat me if you want. Hit me if that makes you feel like a big, tough man. I’m not afraid of you.”

I step forward until my hips are pressed against hers, until our bodies are flush. I can practically feel the thrum of her pulse against my zipper, the beat of her heart growing more and more wild. “Who says I want to hit you?”

My fingers brush against the back of her knee and move upward. Her skin is velvety smooth, and she gets warmer the further I move under her skirt. She tries to smooth down her skirt, but I use my other hand to pin hers above her head. For all her toughness, it’s clear she’s outmatched. I could overpower her with a single finger.

“There are other ways to break someone,” I whisper as my hand finds the waistband of her panties. They’re simple cotton, but they might as well be lace for the way my body reacts to the discovery. I’m only trying to frighten her, to let her understand what kind of consequences await further disobedience, but I want to know what she’s hiding under those undergarments. What treasure is waiting to be found.

Her blue eyes are a vibrant sky blue, but there’s an undeniable fire there. She burns bright, and it’s my job to douse the flames.

I dip my hand lower, running my fingers over her sex. She tries to stretch away from me, but I don’t let her. “I’m more than happy to do whatever it takes to turn you into a good girl.”

Suddenly, she leans forward and tips her head back. Instinctively, I mimic her movement, drawing my face close to hers. Her nose is a button, her chin pointed. She looks like a cartoon princess.

“What if I’m not a good girl?” she purrs.

Her seductive edge is unexpected. I rise to attention in more ways than once, and I’m shocked by the effect she’s having on me. But before I can say anything, she jerks her chin back and spits.

It catches me by surprise. I have to take a second to steel myself. Don’t react. Don’t give her that satisfaction. Take control of the situation – now.

I tighten my grip on her hands until she whimpers. One long, slow breath sliding down into my chest. I feel the sense of calm, of power, radiating through me once again. Looking at the girl, I can see her jaw is still clenched, lips still pressed tightly, but she’s uncertain. Nervous.

Good. My turn.

I dip my fingers inside her panties, expecting her to beg me to stop. To plead. She doesn’t, and I’m surprised until I feel the wetness between her legs. She’s turned on. And when I feel her excitement, my own begins to take over. Before I can stop myself, my fingers slide into her. Three. At once.

Her lips part, and I feel the exhale on my neck as I work my fingers in and out of her. She’s straining against my hold on her hands, but it isn’t to escape. She’s writhing with pleasure.

I bring my lips to her ear. “You aren’t a good girl, are you?”

Her body clenches and she snarls. “I hate you.”

I pull back and look down at her. The dress does little to hide her curves, and her breasts are practically busting out of the top. I can see her nipples pebbled beneath the fabric. “That may be true, but you love what I do to you.”

“No.” Her teeth are clenched. “I don’t.”

“Tell that to your body,” I whisper, pumping my fingers in and out of her. “You’re soaking wet.”

I curl a finger inside of her, and her entire body shivers. I let go of her hands, but they stay pinned to the wall as if she doesn’t even notice. “If you really want me to stop, why don’t you make me?”

She looks confused for a second, until I wave my free hand between us. As soon as she realizes I’ve let her go, she hauls back and slaps me. Her hand cracks across my face, but I barely feel it. All the sensation in my body appears to be focused on my three fingers. She pushes on my chest, and I allow her to shove me back.

My fingers miss the warmth of her, and as I back towards the door, I bring them to my mouth and lick them clean. She stills as she watches me, and her lips part. I want to push her up against the wall and finish the job. I want to leave only when she’s trembling and weak from the dirty things I’ve done to her body. But I can’t. Because that would be losing control, and I can’t let that happen. Not now, not ever. There’s too much at stake.

“That will only happen once,” I say, running a hand down my red cheek. “Do it again, and you’ll regret it.”

“What is happening? Why am I here?” She won’t make eye contact with me, and it feels like my job is almost done. She’s afraid.

“All in good time,” I say, even though I have no plans to explain any details to her. She’s a pawn. Nothing more. “But get comfortable. Your father hasn’t responded yet, so it may be a while.”

“My father?” She stands tall, hands fisted at her sides. “What the hell is going on here? Why did you grab me? Why are you doing this?”

I turn around and reach for the door, but before I can pull it open, something hits me in the back of the head. I spin around and see her high-heeled shoe bouncing across the floor. Her face is a mask of