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“Yes,” I moan, clearly this time as my head drops back.

The Pakhan presses a kiss to my shoulder, his hand fucking me relentlessly, the other pressing me against the wall so I can’t move. I try to anyway, tits dragging across the cold tile, pussy throbbing for his cock.

“More,” I pant, pushing my hips back against his wrist, trying to reach for him.

“Mmm,” Vasily grumbles. I feel it in every inch of my body.

His fingers slow, dragging in and out. Agonizing. I tilt my hips and ass back, searching for him, but his hand is gone. A whimper makes him chuckle.

“Come here.”

My body is so on edge, so unfocused from the haze of desire and need, that he has to maneuver me out of the shower. He brings me to the counter instead and makes me face the mirror.

“This is what you want?” he asks, dragging his cock down my ass.

“Yes,” I bite out, widening my stance and stretching forward like a cat in heat. “Yes, please, Vasily. Please fuck me.”

“You’re going to watch.”

All I can do is nod.

His hand comes up around my jaw, making sure I’m holding his gaze in the mirror. The silver in his hair practically sparkles with the water in it; his chest muscles bunched as he jerks himself slowly behind me.

“I want you to watch me fuck you, Matilda. I want you to know you’re mine.”

As he says the last word, Vasily Borisov, leader of the Lake Placid Bratva, thrusts his thick cock into me with enough force to pin my hips to the counter.

I let out a low, surprised moan. The stretch burning despite how rough he was with his fingers only minutes ago.

Vasily runs a hand down my spine in a way that’s almost gentle. Then he cups my hip and starts fucking me in earnest, grunting as he pounds into my pussy over and over. At this angle the head of his cock catches on my entrance and it feels so good all I can do is repeat a mindless mantra, over and over:

“Yours, yours, yours.”

“Whose are you?” he breathes, massaging my breasts and tweaking a nipple hard enough that I jump against him.

“I’m yours,” I gasp, jerking my hips back. He goes still, and in the mirror I see him looking down between us, watching with a hungry expression.

“Yes,” he murmurs, pulling me back by the hips as he stands with his legs braced. “Fuck yourself on my cock, good girl. You did so good today, Matty. So good for me.”

I obey him without question, with abandon, bouncing myself back onto him recklessly.

My hips will be bruised in the morning. I don’t care.

Every time he calls me a good girl, an orgasm teases at the edges of my senses, there and then gone.

“Just like that,” he praises, glancing up in the mirror to meet my eyes. “My clever girl. You deserve to come, don’t you? After all your hard work.”

A mangled sound of agreement tumbles from my lips. My eyes start to roll back, every muscle in my upper body going taut as Vasily grabs my hips and keeps guiding me through it as the orgasm hits.

He wraps an arm around my waist, towering over me, chest pressed to my back, and fucks me until all I can feel is a senseless buzz through every single one of my nerve endings. My hands slide on the wet countertop as I try to brace myself, falling forward bonelessly, the pleasure an almost-pain that has me panting and squirming beneath him.

Vasily’s abs pound against my ass. As I come down, I can feel him winding up; his cock stiffens inside me, throbbing, and heat blooms low in my core. I lay my face against the cool countertop and moan as he fucks his cum into me, the sound obscene in the echoing room.

When it’s over, we’re both panting and covered in jizz dripping down our legs. Vasily straightens himself, and then me, carefully. As I try to get my balance back, he turns on the showers.

We clean up in silence.

Everything is sore in a delicious, decadent way. Soaping up is too much, and I catch him watching me as a shiver wracks my body.