Page 23 of Kidnapped & Bred By The BRATVA
When we are both spent, he gently turns me onto my side before sliding out, letting his thick cock rest on my thigh as hepulls me in close. His hand doesn’t leave my stomach, possessive even in the aftermath.
“You’ll give me another,” he whispers. “And another after that. I’ll keep you glorious, full, loved. Forever.”
Roman
I should be finished.
I’ve never been the kind of man to go twice in a row. Not once in my life. I don’t work that way. My body doesn’t work that way. I fuck hard, I fuck deep, I fuck to finish, and once I spill, it’s done. Spent. Final.
Until her.
Olivia lies trembling beside me, wet and swollen, my seed leaking from between her thighs having already done its job, her juices slicking my cock and the sheets beneath us. Her chest heaves, sweat shining along the valley of her breasts. Her dark hair is a tangle across the pillow, lips bruised from my kisses, throat marked where I bit her.
But her eyes…fuck. Her eyes blaze.
She grips my jaw suddenly, nails digging into my scar, and drags my mouth back to hers. The kiss is wild, feral, demanding, nothing like submission. She bites my lip, drinks me in, devours me right back. When she tears away, her voice is wrecked but sharp as shattered glass.
“Again.”
The word scalds me. My cock twitches, heavy, already thickening again, weeping to be inside her wet heat. My breath stumbles. “You’ll split in two if I—”
“I don’t care,” she snaps, reaching between us and squeezing my cock, wringing another groan from my chest. Her nails scoredown my back, fire dragging across my skin. “You said I’d beg. Well, here I am. Take me again. Fuck me again. Or I’ll find a way to make you beg instead.”
Something inside me snaps and breaks wide open.
I snarl, the sound tearing raw from my throat, and move just enough to roll her onto her hands and knees. She gasps as I yank her hips up, ass in the air, hair falling wild around her face. My cock slams back inside her, harder than before, and she cries out, one hand clutching a pillow, the other scrambling for the headboard. Her breasts hang heavily, swaying with the momentum from my thrusts.
“Careful, krasivy,” I rasp, my hand pressing firm along her spine to hold her arched, ass high. My hips drive into her, brutal, merciless. “You think you can command me? You think you can tell me when to fuck you?”
“Yes,” she moans, voice muffled against the pillow. “Yes, Roman—harder—”
My head spins. Control is gone. Every thrust is punishment and worship at once. She’s so tight, so wet, her body milking me like she was built for this, built for me.
“You’ll ruin me,” I groan, dragging her up against my chest, her spine pressed to me. One hand closes around her throat, firm, not choking but claiming, the other sliding down over those huge, milk heavy tits, and around her belly to circle her clit as I slam deep. My cock drives into her over and over until the sound of our bodies is filthy and relentless. “No one else will ever matter. You hear me?”
She claws at my arm, gasping, eyes rolling back as pleasure ripples through her. “Good. Then we’ll ruin each other.”
Her words ignite me. Burn through me.
I pound harder, faster, sweat dripping down between us, teeth gritted as I fight the need to lose myself too soon. Her tits bounce with every thrust, her cries bouncing off the walls, moans and curses and desperate pleas tangled into one.
Her body writhes, tightens, shudders, and then she breaks. She screams my name, voice raw, ripped apart with pleasure. The sight and sound tear through me like lightning, blinding and brutal.
I slam deep, cock jerking inside her, and spill again, harder than before. My roar shakes the room, tears out of my chest like an animal set free.
I collapse over her, chest heaving, lips pressed to her ear. My cock still pulses inside her, her cunt still clutching me like it’ll never let go.
She’s trembling, clenching, still wrung out, but she twists her head and sinks her teeth into my shoulder. Hard. Sharp enough to pierce my skin.
Pain shoots through me. Blood beads and runs down. And I’ve never loved a wound so much in my fucking life.
“Now you’ll see you’re mine every time you look in the mirror,” she whispers, lips smeared with a tiny amount of my blood. Her eyes blaze sideways into mine. “Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”
My vision blurs. My heart slams like a hammer in my chest.
I kiss her, fierce, filthy, licking the blood from her mouth, smearing it between us like a vow. My voice is guttural, shredded, but certain.
“Forever. Even if it kills us.”
Her lips curve against mine, savage and sweet all at once. “Let it,” she breathes. Her voice shakes from the ferocity of it. “We’ll be together and fuck like this in every lifetime.”
The words destroy me. Rebuild me. Tie me tighter than any vow ever could.
I bury my face in her hair, still pulsing deep inside her, body wrecked, soul branded. For the first time in my life, I don’t want the end. I want the ruin. I want the forever. And I know, I’ll never stop wanting Olivia.
