Page 170 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

My body knew it long before my mind has come to understand. It knows how to act, how to move, how to feel. It knows what to do next. My center is slick with desire and his cock keeps nudging my entrance. I moan as I rub myself against his tip.

“Ah, please… please…”

“Tell me what you want, little lamb,” he growls in my ear.

A shudder rips through my body like a lightning bolt. I wrap both arms around his neck, trying to pull him as close to me as possible.

“I want you inside me. I want you to feel you again…”

He doesn’t need to be asked twice.

I can feel his own desire topple over and collide with mine. Two stars combusting side-by-side, each one consuming the other.

He lines his cock with my opening and thrusts into me. He does it so slowly that my eyes go wide and my mouth forms a perfect O shape as I stare into his dark, sinful eyes.

The scream is caught in my throat but the moment he sinks all the way into, I feel it release as a babbling groan.

“Yes, yes… oh God…”

He tears both my hands from around his neck and forces them against the wall. His fingers are vise grips around my wrists but it’s the most titillating form of bondage I’ve ever experienced.

Unable to do anything more than grip his hips with my legs, I throw my head back and cry out as he thrusts into me again.

He still takes it slow. So slow that it verges on torture. It’s only halfway through that I realize he’s doing it on purpose. He wants me to be the one to ask for more.

Lucky for him, I’m more than willing.

“Phoenix,” I whisper, my words coming out in short, exhausted bursts, “harder, please. Faster.”

He doesn’t ease me into anything. He goes from zero to a hundred in less than no time.

And God, I want it so bad.

Suddenly, he’s slamming his hips into me, driving his cock in so deep and so hard that my back hits the wall over and over again. Pain and pleasure wind together and I lose all sense of myself.

In this moment, I’m just one raw nerve ending. And I’m firing off pleasure in all its different incantations.

The fact that I can’t hold on to anything, the fact that he’s got my hands restrained against the wall, only heightens the experience. I’m helpless—and I’m free.

And when the orgasm tears through me, I come completely untethered.

My legs clench, my core throbs, and my walls feel like they’re about to split open. But he never stops. He keeps going until he’s wrenched the orgasm from me and turned me into a limp puddle in his arms.

He pulls out suddenly, and I hope he’s not going to step back because I know with certainty that I’ll collapse without his support.

He doesn’t. But he doesn’t let me go, either. Instead of setting me on my feet, he places me on the little marble seat jutting out from the wall.

His left hand finds my throat. I gasp from the shock of it as he pins me against the tile surface but I don’t push him away or fight.

This is how it should be,I tell myself.You’re a killer. He’s a killer. Your love should be as violent as you are.

With his right hand, Phoenix grabs his cock and starts stroking. He’s already glistening with sweat, and his cock is dripping with my juices. He uses it as lubricant to push himself over the edge.

I sit there and look up at him, sucking in tiny breaths against the pressure of his hand and watching as pleasure ripples across his face.

And then he erupts.

He drenches me in him. My face, my breasts, little droplets of it falling onto my bare thighs.

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