Page 94 of Bratva's Vow
He cried out again, his body shaking hard beneath me.
I pushed myself up, sliding my thighs to either side of him, so I could increase my pace. Needing more, I dragged a nail down the center of his back, delighted in the goose bumps that decorated his skin.
“You going to leave me again, Wren?”
My voice was guttural, half threat, half prayer.
He didn’t answer fast enough.
So I gripped his hips tighter, digging my fingernails into the flesh so deep they’d leave marks for days. I pulled him back into another brutal thrust, slamming my cock into him with punishing force. He cried out, arching beneath me, his wrists straining against the silk ties.
“Answer me,” I snarled, ramming into him again. “Are you going to leave me? Are you going to break my heart again?”
“No! No, never again. I swear—I won’t?—”
I bent forward, shoved my mouth against the back of his neck, and bit down hard enough to make him shake. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I won’t leave you!” he said, desperate and pleading. “I swear to god, Maxim, I swear on my life. I won’t leave again. Please, I’m yours. I’ll always be yours!”
The words hit me like a blow to the chest.
Something inside me snapped loose, hot and burning andferal. My rhythm shattered as I rutted into him, my thrusts losing any pretense of control, turning wild—desperate—as if I could fuck the vow he’d just made into his soul and brand it there forever.
He sobbed beneath me, the sound broken and beautiful, his body trembling from the strain, from the force of my need, from everything that had come before this moment.
I buried myself deep one last time and came on that vow, spilling inside him with a groan that tore itself from somewhere deep and aching.
“Oh my god! Oh fuck!” His cries became screams that drove me wild.
I kept thrusting through the orgasm, shallow and tight, chasing every last flicker of pleasure, wanting it to last forever.
His body milked me, clenching down like it knew this was sacred. Like it never wanted to let me go.
When it passed, I collapsed over him, one arm wrapped tight around his chest, with the other hand stroking down his arm where he was still bound to the headboard.
He was crying softly, the remnants of release and exhaustion catching up to him. I leaned in and kissed his neck. Slow. Reverent. Then his shoulder. His spine. Every place I’d bitten, marked, claimed, I kissed. Down his back, spreading open his cheeks, where the cum puddled against his fluttering hole.
A sense of ownership swelled within me. This was mine; he was mine.
I pressed my lips against the quivering skin around his entrance where I’d emptied myself. The tangy taste of my seed touched my tongue, mingling with the familiar heat unique to him. Freshly fucked, his hole opened up, still bearing the impression of being filled with my cock. His rimwas soft and inviting as I delved my tongue inside, probing, tasting, savoring every inch of him.
His body tensed, a shiver running through him.
“Maxim,” Wren drawled on a sob. “Please… I can’t take it anymore.”
I took pity on him and eased back, but not before giving his hole a loving stroke with my fingers. It should be criminal to enjoy fucking anyone this much, but I was grateful it was just a vice of mine.
“You did so good for me,” I whispered, crawling back up to his body and kissing his shoulder. “You took it all. You didn’t stop me. You let me… have you.”
His chest shook under my arm, and a quiet sob escaped him. “My body is-is yours, Maxim. You can do whatever you want with it, and I won’t ever stop you.”
I closed my eyes briefly and inhaled him. “Even if you didn’t get to come?”
He sniffed. “I liked it.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “Sure, it felt like torture, but it was also intense. Plus, I love how much you enjoy fucking me.”
