Kept By the Bratva

Maxim #2

I push her back onto the bed. She falls gracelessly, her hair finally coming loose from that column, wild curls spilling everywhere.

I grab her knees and spread her wide, tearing the thong down her legs.

I toss it. Gone. She's bare before me. Glistening.

I can smell her arousal from here, musky and sweet, and my cock jerks so hard I feel lightheaded.

"Look at this pussy," I growl. "Soaking wet.

Dripping for a man you just met. Such a dirty little mouse. "

She tries to close her legs. I shove them back open, holding her thighs apart with my shoulders.

"Don't hide from me. Never hide. You're fucking perfect like this.

" I don't start gentle. I start hungry. I drag my tongue through her folds, flat and claiming, tasting every secret she's kept.

She screams, her back bowing off the mattress.

I pin her hips with one arm and feast. I suck her clit between my lips, flicking it mercilessly with the tip of my tongue, then push two thick fingers inside her tight heat.

So fucking tight. She clamps down on my digits like a vice, and a thought flares: no condom.

Bare. I could fill her up, breed this perfect little creature, plant my seed so deep she'd never get rid of me.

The image is potent. Obscene. My balls ache with the need to mark her.

But I swore I wouldn't keep her. And a Bratva bastard like me doesn't get to keep pure things.

I won't chain her to my darkness with a child.

Not even the fantasy is worth her ruin. I will not breed her.

Not tonight. Not ever. Instead, I grab a foil packet from the drawer with my free hand, tearing it open while my fingers curl inside her, finding the spot that makes her see stars.

I sheath myself quickly, cursing at the constriction, then I return to her clit with my mouth.

I work her with relentless rhythm. Fingers thrusting, tongue circling. I feel her climbing, her thighs quivering, her breath coming in desperate sobs. She tenses, right on the precipice, her hands fisting in my hair. I stop.

"What—" she chokes out, thrashing. "Please, please, I was so close—"

"I know." I look up at her from between her thighs, her arousal shining on my chin. "And you'll get there again. When I'm ready. Not before."

"Please," she begs, tears pricking her eyes. "I can't... it hurts..."

"It aches," I correct, my voice a dark rumble. "There's a difference. And I want it to ache. I want you to feel every second of this. You want to come for your Bratva beast, don't you?"

"Yes," she sobs. "Yes, anything, please—"

"Good girl." I reward her with a long, slow lick up her center.

"Such a good, willing girl. Look at you, taking my fingers like you were made for them.

So fucking gorgeous when you beg." I edge her twice more.

Three times. Each time bringing her to the razor's edge until she's incoherent, babbling, her skin flushed deep bronze, her pussy so swollen and wet that she's left a dark spot on my silk sheets. She's dripping. Soaking. Ready.

Now.

I crawl up her body, caging her beneath me.

I line my cock up with her entrance, the head kissing her wet heat.

I grip her jaw, forcing her to look at me.

"This is going to hurt, mysh. But only for a moment.

And then I'm going to make you feel things you've never imagined.

" I push in, just the tip, feeling her stretch around me. "Tell me you want it."

"I want it," she gasps, clawing at my back. "I want you."

I surge forward, breaking through her barrier in one sharp thrust. She cries out, her eyes widening, pain and shock written across her face.

I still immediately, breathing hard, my whole body trembling with the effort not to move.

She's impossibly tight. A hot, velvet fist gripping my cock, and I grind my teeth to keep from spilling right then.

"Shh," I murmur against her temple, pressing kisses to her damp skin.

"Breathe, little one. Take me in. You're doing so well.

So brave. So perfect around me." I feel her relax by increments.

Her nails ease from my skin. Her breathing evens out.

I pull back, just an inch, and slide back in.

Slow. Agonizingly slow. Watching her face for any sign of distress.

But the pain is fading, replaced by something else—curiosity, need, her hips tilting experimentally to meet mine.

"There she is," I praise. "There's my greedy girl. You feel that? You feel how you open up for me?"

"Yes," she moans. "More. Please, more."

I keep the pace torturous. Easing in and out, letting her feel every ridge, every vein, letting her adjust to being filled.

But the slow stroke is killing us both. Sweat drips down my spine.

Her pussy flutters around me, milking me, and I know she's close again, her clit throbbing where our bodies meet. "Past the discomfort now, mysh?"

"Yes," she whimpers. "I'm ready. I'm ready, please—"

"Good. Because I can't be gentle anymore."

I pull out nearly to the tip, then slam back inside.

Hard. Fast. The bedframe bangs against the wall.

She screams my name, and I lose myself. I fuck her with everything I've held back.

Ruthless, pounding thrusts that drive her up the mattress.

I hook her knees over my elbows, spreading her wider, deeper, angling so I hit that spot inside her with every brutal stroke. "Who owns this pussy?" I snarl.

"You do," she sobs, her breasts bouncing with every impact. "Only you."

"Fucking right." I reach between us and rub her clit in tight, merciless circles. "Come for me, myshonok. Come on my cock like a good girl. Give it to me. Now."

She shatters. Her orgasm rips through her, her back arching like a bow, her core clamping down on me so violently my eyes roll back.

I follow her over. I thrust deep one final time and erupt, my release pulsing hot and endless inside the condom, my roar lost against her neck.

I keep moving, milking every drop from both of us, until we're trembling, wrecked, my weight collapses over her smaller frame.

I don't know how long we lie there. My heart is hammering against hers.

She strokes my hair softly. I should move.

I'm too heavy. I roll us onto our sides, still inside her, unwilling to break the connection just yet.

Eventually, I slip free and deal with the condom.

She winces. The sight sends a strange, warm pang through my chest. I scoop her into my arms—she weighs nothing—and carry her to the bathroom.

The shower is large, all black marble and rainfall jets.

I set her down and turn the water to a soothing warmth.

She stands there, swaying slightly, her eyes half-closed, while I lather a washcloth.

"Come here." I pull her under the spray and begin washing her.

Gently. Methodically. Between her legs, over her sore breasts, down her trembling thighs.

She hisses when I pass over her swollen sex.

"Sore?" I ask.

"A little," she admits quietly, looking down.

I tilt her chin up and capture her mouth in a slow, deep kiss. "Don't worry, mysh. That discomfort is me on your skin. Me inside your memory. It fades. But I don't want you hurting."

I finish cleaning us both, then shut off the water and wrap her in a soft towel.

But I'm not finished with her. My cock is already stirring again, heavy with need.

I dry her quickly, then lead her back to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling her to stand between my knees.

"There is one more lesson for tonight," I say, stroking my length slowly, watching her eyes track the movement. "On your knees, little mouse."

She obeys, sinking to the carpet with that same breathtaking trust that makes me want to ruin her all over again. I gather her damp hair in one hand, holding it back so I can see her face. "Open your mouth."

Her eyes widen. But then she looks down and licks her lips. That one tell. One little move nearly undoes me. So eager. So willing. I guide my cock between her lips, feeding her just the head at first. "Tongue flat. Like you're licking something sweet. There. Just like that. Fuck. Good girl."

I teach her. I show her where to suck, where to swirl her tongue, how to hollow her cheeks.

She's an absolute natural, her brown eyes watering as she takes me deeper, her hands braced on my thighs.

I praise her constantly, my voice a ragged litany.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Look at you taking my cock like you were born to serve it.

Such a fast learner. My perfect, dirty girl.

" She moans around me, the vibration making my spine tingle.

I'm not going to last. I pull back with a wet pop and fist my cock, stroking hard and fast. "Stay right there.

Look up at me. Don't you dare look away. "

She gazes up through her lashes, her lips swollen and parted, and I explode.

Thick ropes of come stripe her chest, her collarbones, the tops of her full, gorgeous tits.

I groan, long and guttural, painting her skin with my mark.

When I'm finished, I lean down and scoop up my release with my fingers.

I rub it into her breasts slowly, massaging it into her nipples, her cleavage, marking every inch of her soft skin.

She watches me, fascinated, her own arousal evident in the way she squirms.

"There," I murmur, my voice thick with satisfaction. "Now you wear me properly. My little mouse. My willing student." I capture her mouth one last time, tasting myself on her tongue. "So fucking perfect."