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

Chapter 41

41

Leon

E mery’s thighs envelop me, her curves soft and warm. I want to touch her, but she ordered me not to, and it feels like sacrilege to defy her.

I should be resisting this switch of roles; after all, I’m pakhan of the goddamn bratva. It won’t do to let weakness creep in; what will people think if they find out how indulgent I am of my wife?

As soon as she shifts her weight again, I know the fight is over before it’s begun.

I have a talent for lying to myself, but Emery always makes a fool of me. She can do what she wants; the universe gave her to me, and such superlative good fortune must be repaid in the devotion she deserves.

Her heat sinks into me, a living brand, and for a man who’s survived bullet wounds and bloodshed, it’s ridiculous how fragile I feel beneath her. But it’s not fear—it’s awe.

She breaks the kiss and sits up, her face flushed. Her hair is a wild tangle, and she pulls it into a high ponytail, securing it with the hair tie she keeps on her wrist.

“Oh, I’m in trouble,” I say. I move a hand toward her while her own are occupied, but she slaps it aside just in time.

“Nuh-uh.” She shakes her head, pouting prettily, and I suppress a growl of frustration.

“I was right the first time—you are a fucking brat.” Her mouth falls open in mock outrage, and I laugh. “I mean it, baby. Spoiled, petulant, disobedient?—”

“Disobedient?” She grabs my shirt front and yanks it open, sending the buttons flying. “You’re the one who can’t keep your hands to yourself, Leon. Don’t think you’ll get your own way by flipping the script. Behave, or regret it.”

I grin and return the rogue hand to its spot behind my head. Emery rakes her fingernails lightly over my chest, and I hiss through my teeth.

Each scratch leaves invisible marks, but they burn like she’s carving her name into me.

This new Emery is the one I hoped to draw out.

Her innocence, sweetness, and empathy left her defenseless against the likes of Dante Firenze, and he brutalized her delicate heart and let her believe she wasn’t good enough. But I saw past all that bullshit the moment we met.

I saw her strength right from the jump, but as I’ve gotten to know her, I sensed a hedonistic streak that needed to be nurtured.

She has a body that would have inspired statues and sonnets in times gone by, and her beautiful face is marked not by pain or fear but by the grace and unfakeable goodness that lights her from within.

All she had to do was see herself through my eyes, and she would finally be able to shed her past like a snakeskin and be the woman she was made to be.

I couldn’t be happier to be pinned beneath her at her moment of epiphany.

I’m frustrated that she’s wearing pantyhose beneath her dress. The heat of her pussy is driving me crazy already, and I can’t help but grind pathetically, trying to get some friction going.

Emery pinches my nipple, and the sharp sting shoots straight to my cock, a ridiculous chain reaction I’m powerless to resist.

“What do you want, Leon?” she asks, leaning close.

“Honestly?” I sigh as I taste her soft lips again. “If you’d sit on my cock and ride the fuck out of me until your sweet cunt milks me dry—well, I’d be delighted, val’kiriya .”

She chuckles and bites my lip gently. “I have an idea I’d like to try out first. Will you tear my pantyhose and eat me through them? I’m into it for some reason.”

Jesus fucking Christ . Is that even a question?

“You’ll have to give me permission to use my hands,” I say.

“Okay.” She narrows her eyes playfully at me. “But you better do what I say. I have ways to make your life a misery, you know.”

“Obviously. We’re married.”

Before she can stop me, I grab her hips with both hands and lift her so I can slide down the couch until my face is level with her pussy.

She sits up on her knees and looks down at me, her eyes wild.

“No no no,” she says. “I can’t sit on your face!”

I pull up her dress and reach for her core, my fingers digging into the mesh covering it.

“You think I don’t know what I can handle?” I ask as the fabric gives way. “I’m desperate to taste you. I wanna feel your whole body fall apart on my tongue.”

“Come on, Leon,” she says, her tone teasing. “It doesn’t have to be this way. You have your whole life ahead of you!”

As her laugh spills out, relief washes over me. Her brief flash of insecurity has already passed.

“If having my gorgeous wife’s pussy smothering me was enough to take me out, what kind of man would I be?”

I tear the pantyhose with both hands, the sound satisfyingly loud, and rub my thumb over her damp panties. “Not man enough for you, that’s for sure. So let me prove otherwise.”

The pressure on Emery’s clit through the fabric weakens her knees, and she sinks down, her soft wetness overwhelming me.

I hold the panties out of the way and get right to it, lapping the swollen button as she moans with pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasps. “That’s so good.”

Damn right it is. My cock needs some attention urgently, or at least to stop trying to get bigger.

Isn’t there supposed to be some natural stopping point for an erection? I can’t possibly get harder without blowing a blood vessel.

“Emery, baby.” I pause to spear her tightness with my tongue, and she arches her back. “I gotta jerk off while we do this.”

“No,” she manages. “Make me come first.”

Shit. Okay. Can I get her there before I die of horniness?

I lash her clit with everything I’ve got, her juice soaking my chin. Her entrance spasms, and I add two fingers, opening up her clutching cunt and looking for the sweet spot inside.

Argh. Even as Emery cries out, my cock throbs painfully, and I flex the muscles, trying to get some relief from the friction inside my suit pants.

It’s no use, though; my dick is like a caged animal, drooling and snarling as it fights to escape.

“You gotta come, moya zhena ,” I say, my voice tight with strain. “I can’t take much more?—”

Emery thrusts her hands into my hair so I can’t get away. She’s lost in it, her hips surging as she rides my face, sliding her dripping pussy along my fingers as I keep working her clit.

With a final jerk of her body, she throws back her head and gushes a fresh surge of juice into my mouth as her orgasm takes her.

“Oh my God, Leon!” she cries. “Holy shit!”

For a moment, I don’t understand what’s happening in my body. Then I convulse, ecstasy seizing me like I’ve been plugged in.

“Oh fuck, yeah,” I groan, tensing as the dam breaks. My cock pulsates, swelling and flexing, and I’m coming.

I ejaculated in my goddamn pants ?! At my age? Is eighteen-year-old me gonna call and demand I return his balls?

Emery hasn’t noticed a thing; she’s too caught up in her own pleasure, the aftershocks quaking through her luscious body.

I ease myself out from beneath her and sit her in my lap, enjoying the look on her face as she catches her breath.

“Are you alright?” she asks as she drifts back down to Earth. “What’s wrong?”

“You made me come.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, and I shrug. “Don’t laugh. I feel weird.”

It’s true; I do feel weird, and it’s not just the physical aspect.

It’s the vulnerability—how easily I handed her control without more than token resistance. But I don’t feel like I lost. How could I, with Emery in my arms?

With her, surrender feels like winning.

She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me tenderly. The gentleness after the storm—soft lips, slow breaths—hits me harder than the orgasm.

“That’s not how I feel about it,” she says. “That may be the hottest thing that happened to anyone, ever. I hope you do it again.”

“You didn’t get to ride me,” I say, tugging her ponytail gently, “but I guess we’ve got time.”

A cloud crosses her face. “More than a couple of weeks?” she asks. “Because I’m reconsidering our deal. I might have to hang around a bit longer. You know, just to make sure I don’t like you.”

I grin and slide my hand to the back of her neck, drawing her closer.

“Fair enough,” I murmur. My lips find the hollow of her throat. The place where her pulse flutters—a reminder that she’s real. “Now we need a shower and a nap. When I recover from the ordeal you just put me through, I will do my part properly.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asks, pretending not to understand.

I slap her ass playfully, and she gives a delighted squeal as I bite her throat.

“I mean I’ll come in your tight pussy and not my goddamn Calvin Kleins.”