Page 71 of Scarred Bratva King

She moans softly, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through me. “Good boy,” she murmurs, before diving back down with renewed fervor.

Her movements become faster, more desperate, as if she needs this as much as I do. I can feel the pressure building, threatening to explode, but I force myself to hold back. This isn’t about me—not yet.

With a firm grip, I pull her off me, ignoring her whimper of protest. “My turn,” I say, flipping her onto her back.

She gasps as I spread her legs, my eyes locking onto hers as I lower my mouth to her pussy. She’s already wet, her arousal unmistakable as my tongue finds its mark.

“Maxim!” she cries out, her hands clawing at the lounge chair. I growl against her, my tongue relentless as I tease and torment her.

Her hips buck against my face, desperate for more, but I keep the pace slow, maddening. I want her begging, pleading, completely at my mercy.

“Please,” she finally whimpers, her voice breaking. “I need… I need…”

“Need what?” I ask, pulling back just enough to let her squirm. “Tell me.”

“You,” she rasps, her eyes burning into mine. “I need you inside me. Right fucking now.”

In one swift motion, I flip her onto all fours, positioning myself behind her.

She arches her back, presenting herself to me perfectly. I run a hand along her curves, admiring the way her body responds to my touch.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I murmur, before driving into her with a single, powerful thrust.

She cries out, her body trembling as I fill her completely. I grab her hips, pulling her back onto me with each stroke, setting a punishing rhythm.

The sound of skin against skin fills the air, mingling with her breathless moans and my own guttural grunts.

“Harder,” she gasps, clutching the edge of the chair for support. I oblige, slamming into her with enough force to make her scream.

Her walls clench around me, drawing me deeper, urging me on. I reach around, finding her clit and rubbing in time with my thrusts.

She’s close—I can feel it in the way her body tightens, in the way her breath comes in short, desperate pants.

“Come for me,” I growl, my voice raw with need. “Now.”

Her orgasm hits like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she lets out a cry that echoes across the estate. I follow her over the edge, my release crashing through me as I bury myself deep inside her, claiming her completely.

We collapse together, spent and satisfied, our breaths coming in ragged gasps. She turns her head to look at me, her eyes heavy-lidded but filled with a fiery intensity. “When’s round two?”

33

MAXIM

It’s late. Veronica lies next to me in bed, her body curled into mine like she’s afraid to let go. The room is dark, shadows stretching across the walls as the faint hum of the city filters through the windows.

Her breathing is shallow, uneven, and I know she’s not asleep. I can feel the tension radiating off her, even though her hand rests lightly on my chest.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” I murmur, staring at the ceiling, my arm draped loosely around her.

She doesn’t laugh like she normally would. Instead, she shifts, her head pressing into my shoulder.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” she whispers. “About him. About what I did. I’m a killer. I’m just like you. I saw you kill that guy and I hated you but when I saw Marco looking up at me, I felt the same as you. He had to die, didn’t he?”

I close my eyes, my jaw tightening. I don’t want to talk about Marco, not now, not ever again. He’s gone. He deserved it. But I can feel the weight of her words, the tremble in her voice. It’s not going away for her.

“He deserved it. You did what had to be done. You acted. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

Her body tenses against mine, and I hate the way she pulls back, just slightly. Not enough to break the contact, but enough for me to notice. Enough for me to feel the distance growing between us.

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