Page 55 of Bratva Brother’s Bride

I lean down until my forehead is resting against hers. Then I trace my lips across the hollow of her throat and smile when she shudders.

Her breath catches. “Roman⁠—”

I back her up, step by step, until her shoulders hit the rough bark of a tree at the edge of the clearing. She gasps at the contact, her hands tightening on my shirt.

When I look down, her eyes are dark, her pupils blown wide. Her chest is still heaving, breath coming in short gasps.

I kiss her. Vera’s mouth opens under mine, and I swallow the sound she makes. My hands are in her hair, angling her so I can take the kiss deeper. God, I can’t get enough.

She kisses me back with the same fury she used to slap me. Her hands are in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting. Her body is pressed against mine, all soft curves and the wild beating of her heart.

I pin her harder against the tree, trapping her between the rough bark and my body. All I can feel is the softness of her breasts against my chest, and the way her hips roll against mine.

“Roman,” she gasps, and her voice is wrecked already. “Roman, please⁠—”

“Please what?” I drag my mouth down her throat, tasting the salt of her skin. “Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want⁠—”

Her words dissolve into a moan when I find the spot just below her ear. I suck lightly and she squirms beneath me.

My hands find her belt. I unbuckle it with practiced ease, yanking it free and tossing it aside. Then I’m working at the button of her jeans with urgent fingers.

She’s breathing hard. I can see the pulse hammering in her throat.

I shove her jeans down over her hips, not bothering to be gentle. The denim catches for a moment, then slides down her thighs. My hand follows, sliding beneath the waistband of her panties to find her ready for me.

“Fuck,” I breathe against her neck. “You’re soaked.”

“Shut up.” Her nails dig into my shoulders.

I stroke her slowly, feeling her clench around my fingers. She’s so wet that I slide in easily, her body opening for me like it was made to. I curl my fingers inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp, and I rub it in tight circles.

Her head falls back against the tree. Her eyes are closed, breath coming in short, sharp pants. She looks beautiful, all undone and desperate.

“More,” she says. “I need more.”

I add another finger, stretching her. She makes a sound that’s half moan, half sob, and her hips buck against my hand.

“Not enough,” she gasps. “Roman, please. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

I pull my hand free and she whimpers at the loss. Then she’s reaching for my belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle. She yanks it open with an urgency that makes my cock throb.

She shoves my pants down just enough to free me. Her hand wraps around my length and strokes once, her thumb brushing over the head and making me groan.

“Now,” she says. “Right now.”

I grab her hips and lift her. Her legs wrap around my waist, her back pressed against the rough bark of the tree. I can feel her through the thin fabric of her panties.

I shove the fabric aside and thrust into her in one long stroke.

She cries out, her nails digging into my shoulders hard enough to scrape. I go still, giving her time to adjust, but she’s already moving. Her hips roll against mine, demanding more.

“Move,” she says. “Make me feel it.”

Of course, I give her what she wants.

I pull back and slam into her, setting a pace that’s completely relentless. The tree groans behind her.