Page 23 of A Baby for the BRATVA Boss
I slide back inside her. Not to fuck her, but just to feel her pussy around me.
“I’ve never felt like this for anyone. I feel like I’m insatiable with you, despite you. You’ve drained my cock four times in twenty-four hours and I’m pretty sure it’s ready to go again.” I slowly pull out right to the tip, and push in again, moaning as pleasure coils up my spine.
“I like it when you talk dirty to me,” she says, colour flushing her face.
“I can tell,” I reply with a grin. “Your pussy quivers harder, sucks at my cock harder, like it doesn’t want to let it go.”
She kisses me then, pushing me until I’m flat on my back and she is seated over me. Her nipples brush over my chest and I throb inside her.
She rolls her hips in slow, deliberate circles and when I harden fully in the slick heat of her pussy, she moans, long and low.
Fuck, she's exquisite like this; straddling me, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, framing those perfect tits that bounce with every grind. The firelight from the hearth dances across her skin, turning the flush on her cheeks and chest into something primal, alive. She's still tender from earlier, I can feel it in the way her walls flutter around my cock, but that only makes her grip on me tighter, wetter, more desperate to take what she needs.
"Angelu," I rasp, my hands clamping onto her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks. Marksthat will remind her tomorrow who she belongs to. "Look at you. Riding my cock like you were made for it. Your greedy little cunt is swallowing me whole."
She whimpers, her head falling back, exposing the long column of her throat. I want to bite it, claim it, but I hold back, just enough to let her set the pace. For now.
Her movements are tentative at first, experimental, like she's discovering the power she has over me. Around and around she slides, her thighs trembling as she lifts and drops, taking me deeper each time until her ass slaps against my thighs. The sound is obscene, wet and rhythmic, mixing with her breathy moans and the crackle of the fire.
"That's it," I growl, thrusting up to meet her halfway, making her gasp as I bottom out. Her pussy clenches hard, and a fresh gush of her arousal coats my balls. "Fuck me, Sophia. Show me how badly you need my cock.”
Her eyes snap open, locking onto mine, blown wide with lust and that fire that I love. The defiance that says she's not just taking, she's demanding. She braces her hands on my chest, squeezing her tits together, her nails biting into my tattoos, and picks up speed. Her hips grind in tight circles before slamming down harder.
Each bounce sends her tits jiggling, nipples hard and begging for my mouth. I sit up suddenly, capturing one in my teeth, biting just enough to make her cry out before soothing it with my tongue.
"Yury!" she sobs, her rhythm faltering as pleasure spikes through her. I can feel her getting close already, her walls rippling around my length, sucking me in like she never wants to let me go.
I grip her ass with both hands now, spreading her cheeks as I guide her faster, harder. "Come on my cock,angelu. Fuck me until I fill you again. I'm going to pump another load into this perfect pussy. You'll walk around this house with my cum leaking down your thighs, knowing you're mine. Bred. Owned."
The words push her over the edge. She shatters with a scream, her body convulsing, pussy clamping down so tight it borders on pain. Her juices drench the space where we meet, hot and slick, and I thrust up brutally, chasing my own release as she rides out the waves.
"Fuck, yes. Take it all," I snarl, my balls drawing up tight. “You're going to keep every drop inside, aren't you? Going to let me breed you deep."
I explode inside her, roaring her name as rope after thick rope of cum shoots from me, flooding her womb. The pleasure is blinding, ripping through me like lightning, my cock pulsing endlessly as I grind her down onto me, forcing every drop to stay buried where it belongs.
She collapses forward onto my chest, trembling, her breath ragged against my neck. I wrap my arms around her, holding her close, my cock still twitching inside her spent heat.
"Good girl," I murmur, kissing her temple, her scar, her lips. "You took me so well. Rest now,angelu. And when you're ready... we'll do it all again."
Sophia
It’s been two weeks and each morning begins the same way. Soft light over the snow, the smell of coffee drifting up from the kitchen, and Yury’s quiet voice on the phone somewhere down the hall, speaking in Russian, commanding and low. I used to listen for signs of danger in that voice. Now I listen for its rhythm, the way it anchors the house.
We’ve found a kind of balance that feels too good to be true.
He works most of the day, always in his office, but he never forgets me. He always appears in time for lunch. Then dinner. The time after dinner is always just for us. Sharing secrets and filthy promises that our future is full ofus.
I’ve started leaving the door to his office open when I pass. He never tells me to close it. Sometimes, he even looks up, catches my eye, and smiles.
I spend my days exploring. Reading in the library. Helping Greta bake for Christmas. I learned to make varenyky last week, my dough was too thick, and she laughed until she cried. When Yury came in and saw flour on my nose, he wiped it away with his thumb and kissed me on the forehead so casually it made my heart ache.
I’m starting to see who he is when no one’s watching, the man who fixes the broken hinge on a kitchen cabinet himself instead of calling someone. The man who remembers how I take mytea. The man who leaves his world behind every time he steps through this door.
But there’s still the shadow of the past.
Yesterday, one of his men came up the drive. I recognized him from that night at my father’s house. He handed Yury an envelope, and I saw my father’s name printed in the corner. I asked what it was.
“Your father is in a facility for addiction,” was his clipped response.
