Page 48 of Triplets for the Russian Boss

I spin around, eager to do as he says. I thrust my breast out, chest heaving, as he runs the end of the crop across my collar bones.

“Touch yourself, just like you did when I left you last time.”

I gasp. He knows about that. Of course, he must’ve been listening through the door. For some reason, that embarrasses me more than what we’re doing now, and my cheeks glow pink.

Still, I don’t disobey him. I’m captivated by his orders, transfixed on the way that he commands me. I bring my hand down, pressing it into the ridiculous wetness between my legs.

My lips part with ease, and my fingers slip toward the center, brushing against my clit as they slide down. I push them inside myself, not wanting to start rubbing myself before I’m ready. I’m afraid that I will climax too soon, and Kostin will tease me for being too eager.

“Rub yourself. Don’t just finger-fuck your hole. I want to see you cum for me, slut,” Kostin growls. His eyes are lit up with feverish intensity, glowing like two blue sapphires in the dark. He knows what I’m up to, and he simply won’t allow it.

I move my fingers up, slowly making circles on my bud, while trying to think about anything other than Kostin’s demonic gaze. He’s boring holes through my flesh and bones with those eyes, giving me chills just as much as he gives me pleasure.

A moan slips from my lips – an accident, but one that I cannot take back.

“I bet that feels good. Think about the moment that I came down your whore throat. I bet that will make you even wetter, you little bitch,” Kostin says, shaking his head and making a face like he’s disgusted with me.

“Oh god,” I mumble, unable to keep myself from coiling up with delicious tension as I remember the taste of Kostin. More so, it was the way that he made me feel, like I’m only good for one thing – serving him.

I climax, as I imagine his face contorting in pleasure as cum flows from the tip of his cock. I picture him inside of me, filling me with more of his sperm, completely unprotected. I imagine the way that he would hold me, after, and tell me he didn’t care if I got pregnant.

I imagine him actually loving me, and that makes me cum harder than anything else.

Waves of sweet release roll through me, running through my body like blood as they pump to my further extremities. I can feel every atom of my body lighting up in unison, celebrating the joyous release of the tension I’ve been holding since the last time Kostin and I shared our bodies with each other.

I’m alone, but I’m not. Kostin stares at me, a sly grin on his perfect lips, still slapping the leather crop against his palm as I cum for him. Only he can make me feel this way. Only a Mafia boss can make me climax like this.

I’m completely lost in Kostin. The things I said I’d never do with him have vanished. There’s no blockade to keep him away this time, no resistance to stop him from what I know he’s going to do; what I want him to do. He’s going to claim me, just like the first time. He’s going to make me his, and it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.

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