Page 44 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

Such power exists in Zasha’s hips and every ounce of it pours into me. Each thrust of his hips jolts me forward but his arm keeps me in place. His cock pounds deep, and his pace is almost overwhelming.

One of my hands rakes against the hard floor, pulling at my nails while the other curls around his arm. I hold on for dear life. Each breath and whimper pounded out of me barely reaches my ears over the slick sounds of hips pounding hips. My pussy aches, the sensation is a blur and the molten heat in my core builds so rapidly that there’s nothing but an inferno swirling in my gut.

Being pinned, unable to move, and fucked like I’m owned is far more erotic than I ever could have dreamed in my own mind.

“Fucking hell,” Zasha grunts against my ear and his tongue darts out to lick the shell. “Your cunt is so fucking tight. You’re like silk, Naomi. I never want to leave.”

My eyes roll back, and I sink into a darkness where only Zasha’s powerful cock and my clawing pleasure exists.

This is heaven. I’m sure of it.

I can’t think. I can barely breathe. Sweat coats my body in a sheen, my nipples ache against the hardwood floor, and my hips ache from being forced open by Zasha’s thighs and fucked. I can’t hide myself, can’t cover myself.

Zasha takes all of me.

His hips begin to stutter and his rhythm falters. When his grip tightens around my shoulders, I lift both arms to grip onto his forearm and my heart pounds up to settle in the base of my throat.

“Come for me, pet,” Zasha growls in my ear.

I come immediately, utterly enthralled by every single aspect of this man. My pussy clenches tightly around his thrusting cock, and my entire body locks up, every nerve singing high on sensations of ecstasy. It’s the most powerful orgasm I’ve ever had in my life.

I never want to come down.

Eventually, I do. Sensation returns to my body and my aching limbs as Zasha slowly kisses me all over, his hips moving slowly to pack the cum from his own orgasm as deep as possible inside me.

“Happy?” Zasha asks, pressing his lips to my damp temple and lingering there.

“Insatiably,” I murmur, wincing as my dry throat pulls around those words.

Holy shit.

That was … fucking incredible.

Zasha pulls himself out of me and my pussy throbs, clenching around nothing. As he stands, he helps me to my feet and supports my wobbly legs as I step back into my clothes and try to arrange them in a way that will last until I make it back to my bedroom. It takes all my focus and all my strength for us to make it back outside the music room.

There, Zasha catches my chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing me to look up into his deeply intense eyes.

“The next time I ask you what you’re up to,” he says softly, “I want the truth. No matter how sweet your pussy is.”

I can’t lie, so I stay silent. He presses his lips over mine, kissing me firmly and then he leaves.

The heat of embarrassment washes through me when I head for the stairs and notice two guards lingering in the hallway. Did they hear me?

Fuck it. I don’t care.

I got away with it, and I had fun. That’s all that matters. Now I just want to get to bed before my thoughts swarm back to my mother and what she demands.

I’m quickly finding myself trapped in an impossible situation and no matter what I choose, someone is going to get hurt.

Upstairs, I limp toward my bedroom and relief warms my chest by the time I make it inside and close the door. A hot shower and bed are required.

“Naomi.”

Daniil’s voice is soft but it still makes me yelp in shock. I spin to face him until he catches my elbow and stops me from making it all the way around.

“Daniil, you scared me!”

“Sorry,” he says, not sounding very sorry at all. The hard line of his warm body presses up against my back, sending burning warmth skittering down my spine. “I can smell it, you know.”

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