Page 181 of Bratva's Vow
His palm came down on my ass, an unexpected smack. I jerked in surprise but not pain, as warmth bloomed beneath the skin. I exhaled loudly, clenching my fingers in the sheets as he chuckled lowly.
“Come on. Keep that sexy ass in the air.” He shuffled across the bed, and the next thing, he was tying my wriststogether over my head with his T-shirt. “There you go, pretty little thing.”
I loved it when he tied my wrists together when we had sex. It brought a feeling of helplessness that blossomed into the most intense desire, an extension of trust that I placed in him.
I rolled my hips instinctively, and he held me steady, hands on my cheeks, spreading me open under his gaze. Never had I felt more vulnerable and desirable at the same time. His saliva hit my hole a second. The pads of his fingers tapped against me right there. A spark of electricity coursed through my body, and I arched my back into his touch.
“Maxim, please.”
“I’ve fucked you seven days straight, and you still want more.” He thumbed my hole, removed it, then shoved his index finger in and kept at it like playing the keys of a piano. Every single digit got a piece of the action. He bit my cheek and slapped me twice more, making me cry out. Making me forget that we weren’t alone. That we were guests in our friends’ home.
“Prettiest little hole I’ve ever seen.” He lowered his head and covered my entrance with his lips.
“Fuck.” I clenched, then pushed out, puckering up for him. He licked a circle around my puffed rim, stroking with a whole lot of saliva that dripped down my taint.
I wanted to reach back to hold my cheeks open for him, but my hands were tied. Frustration disappeared when his tongue delved deeper, plunging into me. I yelped and bucked up, the sheets beneath me crinkling with my movements. He hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me back against his face and onto his tongue.
My moans grew with the uneven, unpredictable rhythm of his tongue retreating and thrusting inside my ass. Tight heatcoiled in my gut, each stroke of his tongue pushing me closer to the edge. My cock pulsed, ready to spill…
He pulled away, leaving me cold and aching. I whimpered at the loss, trying to push back into him.
“Please, Maxim?—”
“Any minute now, solnyshko.”
He took less than a minute, pressing the slicked tip of his cock against my hole. I drove back at the same time he plunged, and I cried out as he bottomed out with one thrust.
“Fuck,” Maxim groaned. “I fucking love you so much.”
I fisted my cock, aching for release but allowing myself a moment to adjust to his size. I moaned against the sheets. His body shuddered atop mine as he tried to still his movements.
“It's okay,” I choked out. “I want to feel you moving inside me. Fuck me, Maxim. Use me.”
As if he’d been waiting for my permission, Maxim withdrew completely, then drove back in with a force that sent me almost crashing into the headboard. I reached up and clung to it, snapping my ass back into his thrusts.
“Look at that,” he groaned. “Ass perfectly bouncing on my cock.”
Slap! Slap.
“Come on, fuck yourself on my dick just like that.”
Slap! Slap
“Now show me that hole. I know you’re eager for my cock, but come on. Show me that pretty little wrecked pussy.” He moaned, his hands spreading my cheeks as far apart as he could as he pulled out and spat against my hole. I clenched instinctively, then pushed out, and he swore.
Maxim mounted me like a beast, his cock sliding home with a low grunt. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, his thrusts growing relentless, each one stronger than the last. Yes, he was being domineering, and I loved every second of it. Thesweet hurt of him sliding in too deep, stretching me too wide, not giving me enough time in between to recover from each thrust.
It was a relentless pounding inside my body that left my nerve endings buzzing and my body a coiled spring. I exploded with a sobbing cry, clinging so hard to the headboard it was a wonder it didn’t snap in half.
Maxim buried himself in me one last time, grunting as he spilled inside of me, topping up last night’s load.
He fell onto the bed next to me, boneless and spent, panting like he’d just run a marathon. For a long moment, we didn’t say anything. We just lay there, our skin damp, our bodies pressed together, the only sound the uneven rhythm of our breathing.
Then his hand reached for mine, still tied at the wrists with his T-shirt.
He cursed softly under his breath, fingers working at the knot. “Too tight?” he asked, his voice low, gentler now.
“No,” I whispered. “It was perfect.”
