Page 24 of My Bratva Stalker

His hands slide to my hips, holding me steady as he presses against my back.

His cock—still hard, still thick—nuzzles between my cheeks, rubbing against my swollen folds.

I whimper, pressing my forehead to the shower wall.

It’s too much. Not enough. I don’t even know anymore.

“Look at you.” His voice is a rough murmur against my ear. “So fucking pretty when you’re ruined, printsessa.”

His hand slides down, fingers brushing over my clit.

I jolt.

My hips jerk forward, trying to escape.

He tightens his grip, trapping me against the slick marble tiles.

“Where do you think you’re going, baby?”

He teases me, dragging his fingers through my slick folds.

My body tenses, too sensitive, too raw.

I try to wiggle away.

I can’t.

He doesn’t let me.

His free hand moves to my throat, tilting my head back so his lips hover over mine.

“Gotta keep you messy with my cum, love.”

I whimper, my legs shaking.

His fingers find my entrance, slipping inside me.

Slow. Deep. Pressing right where he knows I need it.

“Viktor…”

I don’t even know what I’m asking for.

His name is a breathy plea on my lips.

He groans, thrusting his fingers deeper.

“You feel me dripping out of you, baby?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my body trembling.

He presses a hand low on my belly, pushing against the place where he fills me.

“That’s all me, printsessa.”

I whimper, my walls fluttering.

He nips my ear, his voice pure filth.

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