Page 16 of My Bratva Stalker

I try to move away. Try to wiggle, shift, do something to lessen the pressure. It’s too much. Too intense. The sensations spike too fast, too sharp, too soon.

But he won’t let me go. His fingers clamp down on my thighs. Holding me in place. Keeping me open for him.

I whimper, voice shaky, pleading.

He growls against my clit.

“That’s it, baby. Come for Daddy.”

A wrecked cry rips from my throat. My body locks up, arching, shaking, breaking. I come so hard I see stars.

And he doesn’t stop. Doesn’t let up. He just keeps licking, sucking, pulling more out of me.

“I wanna hear you fucking yell.”

I do. Loud. Desperate. Completely lost.

His hands squeeze my flesh, keeping me spread and helpless.

“Give me one more.”

My body trembles.

I can’t.

I can’t.

“Do it.”

He groans into my cunt.

His tongue flicks, presses, circles, sucking my clit deep.

My back bows off the bed. Another orgasm hits me, drags me under, leaves me gasping.

“Good fucking girl.”

Viktor

She’s wrecked. Soft. Shaking. Her body limp against the sheets, her thighs still trembling, her slick cunt throbbing from my mouth.

And she’s not done. Not even fucking close.

I grab her. Rough, possessive, no hesitation.

She gasps as I haul her into my lap, her bare ass pressing against my cock, her warmth sinking into my skin.

She tries to catch her breath, to recover. I don’t let her. I drag my hands over her thighs, spreading them wider, forcing her open.

Her breath shudders.

Her pussy is soaking. Dripping. Swollen from my tongue.

And I’m going to make her take more.

I run my fingers through her slick folds, teasing, circling, not giving her what she needs just yet.

She whimpers.

---