Page 70 of Bratva Baby

“Anton.”

“Beg.”

“I hate you.”

He crooks his fingers, hitting a spot so deep I almost scream.

“Beg.”

“Anton, I want your cock. I want all of you. Fuck me.”

“Better.”

He pulls his fingers out, and I hear him slick his cock through my wetness, though he doesn’t push in yet. He teases, rubbing the head against my entrance, tapping my clit just to hear me curse.

“You smell like me,” he says. “I’m going to taste you every time I breathe.”

“Then fuck me and finish what you started.”

His hand settles hard on my hip, fingers digging in, holding me still. I brace my palms against the desk, muscles trembling, heart pounding.

He lines up, presses the head in slow, splitting me open inch by inch until I whimper.

“Ready?” he whispers, and I nearly sob at the heat curling down my spine.

“Yes.”

Anton thrusts, burying himself to the hilt in a single, brutal stroke that tears a cry out of both of us, his hips slamming against my ass, his breath ragged at my ear as the desk shudders under us.

21

ANTON

I keep fucking her until I’m seeing stars.

She groans my name and everything inside me detonates. I stay buried deep, forehead pressed between her shoulders, breath hammering against her skin while heat roars through every nerve.

Her cunt milks me slow, tight pulses that force more aftershocks from my body, each one dragging another low curse out of my chest.

When I finally lift my head, she’s still folded over the desk, cheek turned, lips parted, eyes closed like a woman who has just been worshipped properly.

“Stay there,” I rasp. “Don’t move.”

She laughs faintly, ruined and smug. “Wasn’t planning on walking away.”

I drag my cock out of her sweet body and step back, watching a flush spread across her back. Her pussy gleams, swollen and drenched, twitching once as my cum starts to spill. I catch it with my fingers before it can drip to the floor, slip two inside her again just to watch her legs shake.

“Anton.”

“I said stay.”

I pump my fingers gently, pushing my release back into her, never taking my eyes off her. She moans at the sight, thighs trembling. I grab her waist and turn her to face me. She wobbles and I lift her, set her on the edge of the desk again. Her hair is messy enough to prove what I’ve been doing to her mouth. I’m perversely proud of that.

“Look at you,” I say softly.

She arches a brow, still breathing hard. “Look at you.”

I push a stray lock behind her ear, then cup her jaw. “I’m not done fucking you.”