The Bratva’s Captive Read online Jane Henry (Wicked Doms #3)

Categories Genre: Dark, Romance, Suspense, Thriller Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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Oh, God, this feels good. He works my nipples so hard and so long, within minutes, I'm panting with helpless arousal. My mouth falls open in a gasp, when his lips meet mine.

I lose myself to his kiss, the roughness of his whiskers and softness of his lips, the sensual sweep of his tongue against mine. I asked him to stop but now I don't want him to. Why shouldn't I enjoy this for what it is? He wants me to fear him, and a part of me does. But I could ride this fear and embrace the moment of escape. So when he glides his tongue from my nipple to navel, I don't ask him to stop. I don't even think I want him to.

I'm out of my mind to be doing this, intentionally allowing him to manipulate me sexually. Taunting him in a game where the stakes are way too high.

But sex is a powerful tool, and I'm only human.

"Part those knees," he commands. God, that voice, the harsh grating sound of it washes over my skin, pebbling my nipples, my pulse racing.

I'm cuffed with limited mobility, but still have a small range of movement. I do what he says. I jump when something cool and liquidy glides along my belly. The liquid immediately heats, until my skin feels like it's fairly glowing. A breath of cool air caresses my most private parts, while his hands massage the liquid into my skin.

"How does that feel?" he asks.

"It's warm," I tell him. "I like it."

And then his fingers are at my thighs, parting them ever so slightly with the back of his hand. My breath stutters to a halt when one firm finger glides at the very top of the vee of my thighs where I long to feel pressure. The softest, most gentle caress makes me lift my pelvis higher, but the chains hold me back.

"Not so fast, little one," he says, his tone making it very clear that he's the one controlling this. "You'll learn that cooperation will please me. And if you please me, I please you. Nod your head if you understand."

Well duh. Of course, I understand.

Still, I nod.

The heated liquid glides between my legs, down between my folds. With expert strokes of his fingers, he works it all around my pussy, until I'm keening with need. One stroke. A second. I'm whimpering for more. Harder. Deeper. Faster.

My clit throbs, pulsing with arousal. I could cry with the desperation I feel. I was turned on before, but now, he's dialed my arousal so high a mere ghost of a touch would undo me.

I don't touch myself. I've never slept with anyone. I even questioned at times if I'm asexual. My mother kept me sheltered and my father damn near makes me wear a chastity belt. Sex was dirty. Sex was intimate. But this... this is pure, erotic need so powerful, so entrancing, I can't think of anything beyond the next stroke of his fingers.

"Do you want to please me, Olena?"

I nod my head. "Yes, sir."

I should protest this. I should keep my dignity. I need to escape both him and my father, but not before I feel what my body begs for.

"Good girl," he says. I moan out loud when he rewards my response with slow, lazy pressure on my pulsing sex. "Relax," he says. "Take your pleasure for now. Remember this."

The warm liquid heightens my arousal until all I can feel is his fingers between my legs, stroking, circling, every movement pushing me to the edge of bliss, my whole world centered on his next touch. I gasp when he pinches my nipple and works my clit at the same time, sensation rippling through me. I'm going to soar into pleasure and ecstasy. I'm falling into bliss, right on the very edge...

When he stops.

"Please," I plead. "Oh, God. Whyyyy? Don't stop."

"I told you that you had to be a good girl," he says, his voice hardening. "And you weren't today, were you?"

But my mind is hazy and confused.

"I'll consider allowing you your pleasure if you take your punishment first."

"Punishment?" I repeat stupidly.

"Punishment," he repeats. And then my wrists are free, and my ankles, and he's bending down and scooping me up, tight against his chest. Sitting on the bed, he drapes me over his lap so I straddle one knee, my torso flat on the bed, the pressure of his knee pushed against my throbbing sex. The blanket brushes my naked, swollen breasts, gliding against my nipples. I whimper.

I have one brief moment of panic when I realize he's placed me in the position for a spanking.

"Wait!" I protest, just before his palm crashes on my naked ass.

But this is different. This isn't like the punishment he gave me before. I'm so aroused, when he spanks me the pressure between my legs heightens. This time, instead of another punishing smack of his palm, his large hand rests on my ass, stroking upward and downward, causing pressure to build between my thighs.


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