Page 7 of Baby for the Bratva King

“So fucking perfect, Honeysuckle.” He plants one final kiss to my lips and lowers to his knees, where he sees the hand. “What might you be doing down here?” He grabs my hand and places it behind my back. “No touching yourself. I suppose you have done plenty of that over the last few weeks.” Felix parts my thighs, sinking his head between them.

He flicks his tongue over my clit, and I shatter.

My entire body melts around his tongue, at mercy to him.

I grab his hair, clawing at his scalp as he licks his tongue over my pussy, teasing the entrance.

“So sweet,” he grunts. Flashing me a look, he slides a finger into my entrance, gauging my reaction.

“Holy shit,” I gasp, adjusting my hips, allowing the finger to sink deeper.

After pumping the finger in and out several times, he adds a second.

I slam back into the tiles, my head hitting the wall as I arch my back focusing on the rhythm, moving my hips to meet his fingers.

“You’re so wet,” he says while looking deep into my eyes. “Are you always this soaked around me?”

I ignore the question. Felix has enough people telling him he’s perfect.

I focus on the fingers, crying out when he catches my clit, rubbing the sensitive area, bringing me right to the edge.

He must be able to sense my orgasm, because he withdraws the fingers, teasing his cock around my entrance instead.

“Taste yourself,” he says, sticking the fingers into my mouth. “Not so in denial now, are you, sweetheart? Some things are simply out of our control, and that is perfectly fine.”

Easy for him to say when he stays in control all the damn time.

“You are absolutely perfect, sweetheart.”

I refuse to believe that. I’m sure he compliments all the girls he sleeps with, telling them everything they want to hear.

Which is strange. Felix moves through the world like a stoic philosopher, keeping his cards very close to his chest, never speaking unless spoken to. But in the bedroom he comes alive. He’s rather vocal, talking me through the experience as he slides his cock through my folds, telling me to look down.

“See how good we look,” he says. “Perhaps we should see how we look when I’m inside.”

Fire gathers in the very pit of my stomach, nervous excitement rushing through me as I celebrate my birthday by fucking Felix Pozharsky.

This could be a better birthday present than the Hamilton tickets Fleur surprised me with, and original cast performances are extremely hard to come by.

But the chances of having sex with the one and only Felix Pozharsky are even slimmer… I think.

I shove the thoughts into a box, sealing the lid closed so I can enjoy my birthday present in peace. Felix’s dating history is none of my business for the time being.

“Come here,” he grunts, skimming my ass, lifting me into the air. “Wrap your legs around my back.” He guides my ankles around his hips. “Keep them locked. Hold onto me,” he says, pressing me flush against the bathroom tiles as he lines himself up with my entrance.

He watches my face as he inserts himself inside, gradually feeding more of himself into me.

I tremble, my mouth gaping open as I choke on my own breath, overwhelmed.

I take deep breaths, exhaling deeply as Felix slides more of himself inside. Pain gathers in my pelvic bone, new muscles stretching to accommodate him.

I have to be daydreaming, but the pain reminds me this is real.

I dig my fingernails into his shoulder blades, throwing my arms around him. I hold on for dear life as my body moves in unexplainable ways, muscles continuing to expand, pain becoming pleasure. It all means the same thing in the end.

And the more I sink into the moment, allowing myself to part around him, the more aroused I feel.

“You can take me. You’re so unbelievably wet,” he says in a spine-tingling voice. “Here.” He smooths his palm over my lower abdomen. “You work hard for me, sweetheart. You deserve all the pleasure in the world. Let me give it to you.”