Page 49 of Bratva Prince
Our lips collided, crashing together in a lustful frenzy, as that heat spread through my body, lighting the fire that burned within me. His tongue swirled around mine in a spellbinding and tantalizing dance.
On instinct, my hand slid down, grabbing and stroking him, making him groan into my mouth. I pushed him onto his back, climbing on top of him. His hooded eyes flushed with desire, as I slowly eased onto him. It was both painful and pleasurable as I felt him stretch me to my limit but continued sliding down until he was entirely inside of me. I gasp, arching my back, and felt my eyes roll back, feeling the pleasure rush down my spine.
My hands crept to his chest, the scent of him enveloping me. My motion was slow at first, spreading my juices along his shaft until he entered me without resistance. Increasing my speed, I bobbed up and down, feeling him slide in and out, each thrust bringing me closer to an orgasm.
He moans as if he can’t get enough of my pussy. He reaches up and pinches my clit, making me cry out, so I reach down and tug on his hair, giving him a taste of his own medicine. I love the power I have over him. It invigorates me, knowing I can do this to him.
I rolled my hips against him, he was in so deep, that I could feel his head hit my pleasure spot in the most intoxicating way, invading my senses.
“I love your dripping wet pussy.” His fingers dug into my back, dragging against my skin until his hands rested on my hips, gripping me hard as he bounced me, grinding into the motions.
He goes faster, and I'm on fire. I'm mindless and brainless, fully lost. Our motions were in sync, working together as we both came closer to our climax. I leaned in, kissing his mouth and his neck, biting his chest as my nails grabbed into his shoulders and chest.
“Fuck, Willow, you feel so good,” he groaned into my ear, his voice husky and low, a growl from his animalistic instinct taking over.
Panting in response, I gripped his shoulder tighter and pushed my hips against him so he was as deep as he could be. “I’m coming,” I cried out, grinding against him as I moaned in a heavy orgasm.
“I’m about to,” he said, smacking my ass with his hand. “Willow, I’m about to come!” His cock inside of me felt so good that I couldn’t bring myself to lift off it. But Ivan shouted again, “Willow, I’m about to come,” and he quickly grabbed my hips, lifting me off of him, just in time for him to shoot his load onto my belly, barely missing my thighs.
I flopped onto the ground beside him, my breathing erratic and heavy.
“That was close,” he panted, his breathing also unsteady. “I almost came inside of you.”
I met his eyes and bit my lip. “Maybe I would’ve liked that.”
What was I saying?No! Of course, I wouldn’t have liked it because that could lead to pregnancy. Having sex without a condom was risky enough, especially using the pull-out method.
But the idea had been planted in my head.
Ivan shook his head and smiled. “Don’t tempt me,” he said, nuzzling his face into my neck. I cupped his face and brought it close to mine, kissing his lips.
He settled in beside me, and I turned my back to curl up against him. His arms wrapped around me, like a warm blanket to keep me safe.
I closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep, dreaming of a life with Ivan.
We had a family, a warm, inviting home, and we were smiling. I made him and the kids pancakes, just like the fantasy he’d shared with me on the beach. Only, the nameless woman before was now me. I rested my head against his shoulder as he pulled me in close. We watched our kids dig into their pancakes, laughing when one got syrup on his nose.
It was a lovely dream. One I didn’t want to end.
24
Ivan
Iwoke up, and we were wrapped in each other’s limbs. The rain hadn’t let up, so we were forced to stay in the cave.
Willow yawned, stretching her arms and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her breasts peeked out from the blanket; a tiny sliver of sunlight—the only light that wasn’t captured by the storm—beamed down on her nipples as if even the universe agreed they were angelic.
“Good morning, sunshine,” I teased, watching the rain fall.
Her voice was raspy and heavy with sleep. “Morning,” she answered, sitting up to see if her clothes were dried yet. Hardly. They were still slightly damp and stiff from drying flat against the rocks.
She climbed over me to reach it, brushing against my leg, and I winced. My leg throbbed from having been hit by a boar husk, and the sharp pains made it hard to move it too much.
Leaning closer, she inspected my leg. “It’s bruised pretty badly. It may be broken. Are you able to walk on it?”
“Barely,” I answered, remembering the stick-cane I’d used to help me get around.
“Well, you should rest. I’ll look for food, and you keep your leg propped up as much as you can.”
