Page 24 of Bratva Baby

He takes me by my hair and tilts my mouth upward to kiss me before picking me up and backing me toward the bed, a low platform draped in charcoal sheets. The city lights paint our bodies silver and gold. He pushes me down onto the mattress, and I prop myself on my elbows, legs dangling off the edge.

He peels my trousers off with a furious urgency, dragging them down my legs, along with my underwear. He throws them aside. His eyes sweep up, devouring me. “Look at you,” he murmurs. “Bare for me. Leggy, perfect. That high-neck top makes your breasts look obscene.”

I reach down and pull the top over my head, tossing it away. He inhales sharply. “Fuck.” His gaze slides over my black bra, the lace tight.

I hook my thumbs under the cups. I tug them down, letting my breasts spill free, nipples hard. “You going to touch me or just stare?”

“I could stare all night,” he says, voice hoarse. He kneels between my thighs. “But I’d rather feast.” His hands skim up my thighs, spreading me wide. “You’re shaking,” he notes. “Let me taste you properly.”

He leans in and licks from my entrance up to my clit. I moan, “Ahh—Anton!” He groans, burying his face between my legs. “Fucking glorious,” he murmurs, then latches onto my clit, sucking hard. I arch, fingers tangling in his hair. “Yes, yes—don’t stop.”

His tongue works me mercilessly, lapping, flicking, dragging out every shiver. He slides two fingers inside me again, curling up to hit that tender spot while his mouth devours me.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” he growls into my flesh. He thrusts his fingers faster, tongue circling my clit.

I’m already climbing again, breathless. “Anton, please⁠—”

“Come,” he orders, voice a rumble against me.

I explode, screaming his name. “Ahh—Anton!” I clamp around his fingers, thighs shaking as he rides me through it, lapping every drop. He keeps his mouth on me until I push at his head, overstimulated. He kisses my inner thighs, leaving wet marks.

I pull him up and he crashes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard. He strips off his shirt, muscles gleaming in the low light. “You ready for me?” he asks, voice guttural.

I wrap my legs around his waist. “Fuck me.”

He shudders. “God, I love your mouth.” He grabs his cock and guides it to my entrance, rubbing the head against my slick folds. “You want it?” he murmurs, teasing.

“Yes,” I snap, nails raking down his back. “Stop teasing and fuck me.”

He thrusts in with one hard stroke, burying himself to the hilt. I cry out, “Oh, fuck!”

He groans, eyes squeezed shut. “You’re perfect.” He pauses, breathing hard, letting me adjust.

“Move,” I demand, rolling my hips.

He pulls back and slams into me again, setting a brutal pace. The bed rocks, headboard thudding softly against the wall. My nails gouge his shoulders as he pounds into me. “That’s it,” he grits. “That’s my good fucking girl.”

“Ahh—yes—” I gasp, writhing under him.

He thrusts deeper, each stroke hitting my cervix. “You feel like heaven,” he praises into my ear. “Your pussy is gripping me so hard. I could fuck you all night and still keep wanting more.”

I moan, “Yes—oh, God, Anton.”

He braces one forearm beside my head, the other hand capturing my throat again. “Look at me,” he rasps. I meet his gaze, drowning in it. “This pussy is mine tonight. Say it.”

“It’s yours,” I choke out.

He groans, hips slamming harder as he leans down and bites my shoulder, sucking a mark into my skin. A moment later, he shifts, hooking my legs over his shoulders. Suddenly, he’s deeper, angle impossible.

I scream, “Ahh, fuck!” He pistons into me, sweat dripping onto my breasts in spite of the cold. He catches my nipples between his teeth, sucking and biting while he drives into me.

“Look at you,” he pants. “Breasts bouncing, mouth open. You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Anton—ahh—don’t stop,” I babble. “I’m close.”

“Come for me,” he snarls, hand sliding down to slap my clit. The sharp sting sends me over the edge. I convulse, screaming his name.

“Anton! Fuck.” My walls clamp down on him, milking him.