Page 27 of Bratva's Stolen Bride
She blinks and tilts her face down, hiding her reaction.
Interesting.
I drop a knee and then straddle her again. She gives a squeak of protest, but I just tip her chin up with one finger, and murmur, “Open.”
She obeys.
I take a sip of water and drop my head until my lips touch hers. Slowly, I let a stream flow into her mouth.
Lowering her chin so she can swallow, I bend so I look her straight in those pretty blue eyes.
“Trust me to provide for you. Ask me. Beg me. And I will. I want to, in every way.”
Her pulse is fluttering at her throat, and she nods.
“Good girl.” I put the glass to her lips and help her drink until she’s had enough.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, a little shyly.
“It’s my pleasure, lisichka.” I move off the sofa and kneel again at my place at her feet. “Now, back to this delicious pussy.”
She shudders and cries out as I lick her again, not starting slowly this time.
“I still want you to trust me and beg me to let you come,” I explain patiently, then dive back, face-first into the heaven between her legs.
So even as my knees hurt, my shoulders ache, and my tongue cramps, I don’t stop. I just add in my fingers, a tiny bit at a time, one fingertip, then up to a knuckle, building her up to two ramming into her, stroking her inside and out.
I push her to the edge over and over, pausing when she’s about to come, and sitting back. My hands are covered with her cream. It’s all over my cheeks.
“You look so sexy like this.” I stroke around her clit, deliberately avoiding the throbbing nub.
I don’t know how long we’ve been going now, but between her arousal and my licking her, the bikini bottoms under her are soaked.
She’s moaning incoherently, but she’s not begging.
It almost hurts me not to make her come. I’m so hard my erection could break rocks.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that she can call her sister as soon as my men have found Ivan.
That would be the kind thing to do, a compromise.
But I started with this, and although I’m being an unreasonable arsehole, I need her to submit to me.
I stroke her hair with one hand as she breaks down, almost crying.
“Poor desperate lisichka.” I trail my hand up her inner thigh. “Your cunt is so pretty. Genuinely the sweetest I’ve ever tasted, and my god, the way you’re so responsive. You’re a miracle.”
I ruthlessly push two fingers into her impossibly tight passage, so hot and slick I know I won’t last long when my cock is finally lodged inside there. Rubbing that patch at the top of her opening makes her crazy, drawing out little whimper from her as I thrust in again and again, curling to get her to that moment where she could topple.
Then I feel it. She’s wound so tight, she’s gripping my knuckles, shaking all over. So close to orgasm it’s heavy in the air.
I lift away my head, leaving my fingers inside her.
“Ask,” I command her as she whines in frustration at the removal of my mouth. Stroking her knee soothingly, I look into her pale-blue eyes.
They beg me, plead. But she presses her lips together as though without that effort, the words might escape and jump into the air.
She’s getting a little bit puffy on her clit and the pink folds that I’ve enjoyed paying devout attention to have nearly taken all the stimulation they can.
