Stolen By The Bratva King (NYC Russian Royals #2)

Chapter 22

22

Emery

L eon pushes me to the floor, his hands firm and possessive on my shoulders.

I should be telling him no, demanding he stop, but I can’t bring myself to say a word.

The carpet is soft under my bare knees, and before I can think my way past the fog of lust engulfing me, Leon’s hands weave through my hair, tangling at the roots.

Fight him, Emery. Demand answers, clarity—something more than this reckless, consuming desire.

But I’m not fighting. I’m not saying no.

“You’re too beautiful,” he says, his fingers tightening just enough to tingle my scalp. “Have a taste, baby. I need a little something so I can keep my cool long enough to give you what you need.”

What I need?

His words wash over me, his tone gentle yet commanding, and they spark something raw inside me. I should know better; he’s another man who takes what he wants, regardless of my feelings.

Except that’s not true. Leon may have forced me into marriage, but that was his only coercive act.

He hasn’t made a single move without my implicit permission. He hasn’t crossed a line; he could see the need in me.

Even now, with his swollen cock inches from my lips, he’s waiting. Asking for mercy, begging for my consent.

The realization hits me like a shock of cold water: I could stop this. Right here, right now.

If I told him to leave, he would. This isn’t the Leon who dominates every room, who seizes control with ruthless precision. Right now, he looks almost vulnerable, holding back the force of his desire and offering me the reins.

I have more control than I ever imagined.

The thought fills me with a new kind of heat that builds slowly in my chest and belly, seeping into every limb.

I raise my head, meeting his gaze. Leon’s eyes smolder, his intensity and hunger focused on me. My breath ghosts over the thick, glistening tip of his cock, and his fingers tighten reflexively in my hair.

“Don’t you dare tease me,” he growls, his voice rough. “Fuck around and find out, moya zhena . I have precious little control as it is, so provoke me at your own risk.”

I smile; for once, I feel like I have the upper hand. But I still don’t know what the Hell I’m doing.

“I’ve never done this before,” I murmur. “I might not be any good.”

His eyes soften for a second, and he lets out a low laugh that rumbles through my core.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, baby,” he says, guiding his cock closer. “Let me have you. That’s all I need.”

He eases his way in, inch by inch, letting me adjust. My mouth stretches to accommodate him, and I taste his clean skin mixed with a faint saltiness from his pre-come. It’s foreign and oddly intoxicating.

“That’s my good girl,” he says. His fingers shift, not yanking but holding me steady, his movements careful as though testing my limits.

I steal a glance up at him, and I’m spellbound.

My inexperienced brain could never have conjured up something like this. I can’t stop staring, can’t look away.

From this angle, he seems even more imposing; every muscle is tense, the lean lines of his body drawn tight as though he’s barely holding himself in check.

Leon’s head tips back, his throat taut, his pulse beating wildly between the tendons. His breathing is ragged, each word leaden with exertion.

“All you have to do is surrender,” he murmurs.

He shifts his feet, adjusting his stance as he holds me steady, guiding me exactly where he wants. “Let me fuck your throat and come on those juicy tits of yours. Then I swear, I’ll give you anything you want.”

His words send a pulse of heat through me, making my core ache.

This is nothing like I thought intimacy would be. It’s raw and primal, and yet, I have power. He’s at my mercy, bound by his honor not to take what I don’t deign to give.

“Say please,” I whisper, barely daring to meet his gaze.

Leon drags one hand from my hair and snatches my neck, making me gasp in shock.

“You bratty little slut.”

He bares his teeth at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to do whatever he wants, and to Hell with my consent.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Why did I push him? He warned me not to do it.

Leon’s voice is thick with anger, but his words betray him.

“Please.” His grip on my hair tightens again. “Please, Emery. I’m begging you.”

He said it. Leon thought he had control over me, but once he got his hands on me for real, he went to pieces.

Who knew I could do that to a man like him?

I open my mouth wider, and Leon’s control shatters. He thrusts forward, his girth filling my mouth, stretching my lips.

The soft tissues of my throat pulse and ripple around him, and he hits a spot so deep I have to cough, hocking up thick saliva.

Leon pulls out, and without warning, he lets go of my neck and shoves his fingers in my mouth. I splutter around them, and he rakes them over my tongue, palming the spit as he withdraws.

All I can do is stare as he jerks his cock, rubbing my saliva over his shaft to help the motion.

I’ve never seen an erection up close—my experience with a Central Park flasher is not one I choose to count—and I can’t hide my fascination. Leon’s is thick and pulsing, almost alive in his grip, the veins standing out as he strokes himself.

I fail to suppress a moan. My pussy is soaked and seeking attention, my clit chafing against the material of my panties.

I sigh with delight as Leon lines up with my mouth again. “More,” he says. “We gotta do that again, Emery. Your tight little cunt needs a preview of what it’s gotta deal with.”

He holds my head steady with both hands as he pistons in and out, choking me each time but moving too fast for it to be a genuine problem.

I begin to relax, allowing him to forge deeper, and he rewards me with a slap on the cheek.

“That’s it. You have a born talent for sucking cock; a talent only I will ever know.”

He yanks his hard-on out of my mouth and grabs it. He pulls my head back, tilting my chest up toward him.

“Hold your tits together, right here, and let me cover them in my come.”

His fist is a blur as he chases his peak. “Every drop is yours,” he says, his voice strained. “I saved it all week, waiting to give it to you.”

The room is full of Leon’s frantic groans, and my pussy seizes, desperate to swallow the surging thickness that’s wasted elsewhere.

Oh my God . It’s happening.

I’m caught in the moment, watching the way his muscles tense, the way his face twists with pleasure. I stare as he erupts, thick ropes of warmth spilling across my skin and covering my chest in slick, pearlescent streaks.

Leon kneels, trying to catch his breath, and for a moment, we’re eye-to-eye, his gaze softening as he studies me.

“Every bit of you,” he whispers, almost to himself, “is fucking perfect.”