Page 14 of My Bratva Stalker

She lets me in.

The silky warmth of her mouth wraps around the head of my cock, soft, wet, fucking perfect.

I groan deep in my chest.

Her lips stretch around my girth.

Her eyes flutter, breath shuddering.

Her fingers grip my thighs, needing something to hold onto.

I brush her hair away from her face.

Guide her.

Show her.

Praise her.

“Good girl.”

She sucks lightly, like she’s figuring it out, learning what I want.

Her tongue flicks over the ridge of my head, tasting, teasing.

I tighten my grip in her hair.

“Deeper.”

She hesitates.

I push. And she gags.

Her spit pools at the corners of her mouth.

Her eyes water.

Her throat tightens around me.

She tries to pull back, but I don’t let her.

I hold her there, let her feel me, let her adjust, let her learn.

“Breathe through it.”

Her lashes flutter.

Her nails dig into my thighs.

Then she relaxes.

Lets me in.

And fuck, I’m never letting her go.

Her cheeks are wet with tears.

Her plump lips, stretched so fucking wide around my cock.

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