Page 28 of My Bratva Stalker

His grip tightens, his breath hot against my ear.

“Want you to feel every fucking second of this.”

I cry out when he thrusts another inch inside me.

My toes curl, my thighs trembling.

It’s too slow, too deep, too much.

I try to shift, to wiggle, to ease the pressure—

He growls, gripping my hip, keeping me still.

“Uh-uh, baby.”

He tuts, dragging his free hand down my stomach, pressing against the place where he’s stretching me open.

“You’re gonna take all of me.”

I whine, my inner muscles tightening around him.

Fighting to adjust.

Fighting to handle what he’s giving me.

He groans, pushing another inch inside.

“You can take it.”

His fingers tighten on my hip, holding me steady.

“You’re mine.”

My breath hitches, my body shuddering.

I feel too full.

Too claimed.

Like I can’t belong to anyone else but him.

Like I never will.

His lips drag over my shoulder, soft and teasing. His tongue. His teeth.

His thrusts are slow, deep, merciless.

Making me feel it.

Making sure I remember all of it.

“This is what you were made for, printsessa.”

I mewl, squeezing my eyes shut.

He pulls out an inch, then pushes back in.

Testing. Teasing. Taking.

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