Page 56 of Forced By the Bratva

I swallowed gulp after gulp of saliva and clenched my muscles with every movement her hand made around my shaft. I felt like I’d finally lose it when she leaned in and took my erection in her mouth.

The sound I’d been trying to hold back all along finally forced its way out as soon as her soft lips wrapped around my shaft. Groans of ecstasy escaped my lips as she gobbled me down hungrily.

I reached out my hand and grabbed a fistful of her hair as she moved her mouth up and down my shaft. She’d look up occasionally and stare directly into my eyes, turning me on even more.

The warmness of her mouth against my shaft, the softness of her lips as they wrapped around me, and the feeling of her fingers cupping my balls combined, overwhelming me to the point that I couldn’t take it anymore.

I could feel my climax building; she must have thought it, too, because she increased the pace with which her mouth moved around me until I began to shoot my load.

I thought she was going to pull away, but she didn’t; instead, she wrapped her lips more securely around my shaft and swallowed the liquid down her throat.

I was seeing her slutty side, the way she’d just gobbled me down increased my desire for her. She’d started to rub my dick again, and in no time, it was beginning to harden again.

I leaned over and captured her lips in mine, kissing her roughly and forcefully, shoving my tongue into her mouth where my dick had been earlier.

She kissed me back for a while before she placed her hand on my chest and pushed me backward. She rubbed my shaft for a while longer before she shoved my pants down and moved up to take off my shirt.

Seeing the way she knelt in between my legs, I already knew what she wanted, and I let her have it. She wanted to be in control.

Without taking her eyes off mine, she reached for the straps of her dress and slowly and seductively pulled it over her head, revealing her hot body.

I could feel the warmness of her against my dick, and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her. I felt like grabbing hold of her, pinning her to the bed, and fucking her till she had multiple orgasms. But I let her have her way since she wanted to be in control.

I almost bit my tongue when she carefully guided my cock to her opening. A moan of ecstasy escaped my lips when I felt the warmness of her walls begin to tighten around me. I couldn’t take it anymore and grabbed hold of her waist as she began to rock her hips back and forth while maintaining eye contact.

Epilogue - Jenna

“You’ve just had the last one—I’m not giving you anymore,” I heard Violet telling my son from the sitting room.

“Don’t tell me you’ve been feeding my son junk all this while!” I said, called, and rushed out of the kitchen where I’d been supervising the cooking.

“I just gave him a little—not enough to upset his stomach, I promise.” She batted her eyelashes. “Right, Daniil?” she added, rubbing my son’s head.

I scoffed; I couldn’t believe that my best friend was conspiring with my six-month-old son against me.

On the other hand, it brought a smile to my face. Raising Daniil had been a lot easier for me because Violet would occasionally step in to give me a hand.

I’d tried to be a disciplinarian, not spoiling my son by letting him have all he wanted; Violet, on the other hand, not only spoiled him but would let him have any and everything he wanted—including things she’d suggest and assume on her own that he wanted since he was unable to speak for himself.

Just like how she was sneakily giving him candy behind my back.

A smile spread on my lips as my eyes dropped to my son, sitting in his baby chair with Violet sitting in front of him.

His hair, nose shape, lips—everything about him screamed of his dad. He only took the color of my eyes, which sometimes upset me because I wanted him to look like me, too.

“Jenna,” my mom called from the kitchen. I almost rolled my eyes but quickly stopped myself. I ran to the kitchen to meet her, holding two containers and trying to decipher which of them contained salt.

“Mom,” I called. I hurriedly walked toward her and snatched the corn flour from her before she ended up creating a disaster and ruining the food we were making for the guests.

“Mom, I’ve shown you the difference between the salt and the corn flour several times.” I frowned.

“Well, it isn’t my fault—I’ve warned you about using similar containers.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We must hurry up with the cooking—the guests will arrive soon.”

I rolled my eyes and leaned back on the kitchen counter. “I’ve told you several times to rest, Mom. You shouldn’t be here in the kitchen stressing about things the housekeepers can easily handle!” I complained for the umpteenth time that day.

My mom was stubborn, and I couldn’t help but wonder why I hadn’t inherited more of her stubbornness. It’d been a few weeks since she was officially discharged from the hospital after the doctor declared she had wholly recovered from her illness.

It had sounded like the sweetest song to my ears when those words, which I thought I would never hear, left the doctor’s lips and filtered straight into my ears.

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