Page 73 of The Lazarov Bratva

Suddenly, the door clunks as the locks slide back, and Kristof steps inside, looking utterly mouthwatering, dressed in black slacks, a crisp white shirt, and leather suspenders. My core throbs at the sight of him. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing off his tattoos, and as he walks forward, he starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Alena.”

I leap into motion immediately. I face away and settle on all fours, then drop my chest to the bed and whimper as my clamped nipples drag against the sheet. The position presents my stuffed ass and pussy to him, and I wiggle my hips enticingly.

Fuck, I need him to touch me. Kiss me. Anything.

“Good girl,” Kristof purrs, and I close my eyes as a deep, warm satisfaction settles in my chest. I never get tired of the praise.

“You haven’t touched yourself today, have you?”

“No, Sir,” I gasp. “Only when I showered.”

“And you didn’t come?” Suddenly, warm fingers slide through my aching pussy, and I can’t hold in my obscene moan.

“No, Sir,” I whimper. “I haven’t.”

“Good girl.”

I nearly come right there and then, just from a simple touch and praise. I’m well past reading to justify to myself how fucked up I am. In my mind’s eye, I track Kristof’s fingers as he strokes through my pussy and then up to the base of the plug keeping my ass filled. He taps on the gemstone base, sending a shock of vibration through me. Both my hands curl into the sheets, and I bite down on the pillow, fighting to keep control of my orgasm.

It’s a losing battle.

With practiced, gentle but firm hands, Kristof removes the plug from my ass, and the pull sends a thrilling warmth through my entire body. Then he kisses my hole, and tingles shoot down my spine.

“Look at you, so fucking filthy and still filled with my cum.”

“Yes,” I moan softly. “All yours, Sir.”

There’s a sudden snap of a plastic bottle, and cold gel lands on my stretched hole. Enough lube to warn me of what’s going to happen. The clink of a belt reaches my ears, and then everything ramps up to a hundred while my world whites out.

As Kristof’s cock slams into my ass, he turns the vibrator in my pussy up to max, and nothing can stop me from coming the moment he bottoms out.

I scream out my pleasure, utterly lost to the will of my body, but it doesn’t stop there. Kristof’s iron grasp lands on my hips and he pulls me back onto his cock, then he begins a rapid, pounding rhythm as he starts to fuck me with wild abandon.

My mind can’t focus. I’m coming hard enough that I can’t breathe, but then his cock is stretching and filling me in a way that turns my mind to mush, and I can do nothing but pant and moan with each frantic thrust. Already, my core throbs with another rising orgasm. I’ve been so subtly stimulated all day that I can do nothing to stop it. My hands twist in the sheets, and I toss my head back and forth, rocking back greedily on every thrust. Kristof slides one hand up my back and locks a hand in my hair, pulling hard enough to lift my head from the pillow.

“I want to hear you scream,” he growls, and his thrusts increase in pace. I can’t deny him anything.

On his next thrust, a scream of delight tears from me, and with each thrust afterward.

He fucks feral noises out of me, and the sheets tear under my grip with how rapidly I’m tumbling toward another orgasm. I want more. I need more. I need Kristof forever. If I had my wish, he’d never stop fucking me, never stop touching me, loving me.

That single thought lights up my core like a firework.

My muscles tighten around Kristof’s cock, and he moans deeply, a sound that vibrates through me like a wave. Frantically, he slams forward and shoves my face down onto the bed. The scent of cotton fills my nose on my next gasp, and then Kristof is coming. He floods my insides with heat, and that sensation triggers my next powerful orgasm.

I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t move. I’m suspended in never-ending pleasure as Kristof pumps me full to the brim. It’s utter heaven and I never want it to end.

Eventually, sense trickles back into me. Kristof’s caressing hand across my back ignites fire trails across my oversensitive skin.

“Good girl,” he praises, and I whimper in delight.

When he pulls his cock free, I miss it immediately, but it’s a fleeting thought as he collapses onto the bed next to me, panting. I roll over, daring to cuddle up against his side, and he doesn’t fight it. As caring as he is, physical affection like cuddling seems to be a line he’s not ready to cross, no matter how often I ask.

At this point, I’ll take what I can get.

He watches me, his silver eyes like pools of moonlight, and I follow his gaze as it wanders over my body. He looks at me like he’s seeing me for the very first time, and there’s a subtle hint of awe in his eyes that I will never get tired of seeing.

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