Page 45 of Nanny for the Bratva Daddies

“Smell what?” My heart begins to race once more.

“That you’re freshly fucked.”

An unexpected pulse of want aches through my core and I lick my lips, glancing toward the mirror to see if I can glimpse Daniil.

“Can you now?”

“What would Fyodor say about you sleeping with the enemy?”

That thought excites me and my stomach flutters. “I’m a free agent. You’re just jealous.”

“Damn right I am.” His voice drops low and he brings his lips close to my ear. “I got to taste you, but he got to fuck you.”

“You should do something about that.” Was it wise to taunt Daniil right now while my body aches so much from Zasha? Probably not but the words are out of my mouth without much thought.

Daniil shoves me up against the wall and I whimper, angling my hips back against the growing erection tenting his pants.

“You’re fucking filthy,” he growls. A zipper lowering reaches my ears, then a ruffle of fabric. Daniil pins me against the wall with his body, grinding against me and my heart races faster.

“Am I?” I gasp, pressing my palms flat to the wall. “You like that though, don’t you?”

“Taunting me while filled with another man’s cum. Here I thought you were a good girl Naomi.”

I can’t reply. My pussy is so wet that Daniil’s cock enters me swiftly and easily. We moan together, and Daniil’s hands clutch at my hips.

“I can feel everything he left inside you,” Daniil growls and his teeth graze the side of my neck. “Think you can handle being even fuller?”

Nodding wordlessly, I shove my hips back into Daniil and lean heavily into the wall. It’s a wonder there’s any strength left in my legs at this point, but for Daniil I will do my best.

He presses against me, fucking into me hard and fast. Each stroke of his cock drags against over-sensitive nerves and my taught nipples ache against my clothing. I drop one hand to my tits, groping and massaging for stimulation that’s barely needed. My nipples throb and relief pours through me when I finally give them attention, while my core pulses repeatedly in time to my racing heart.

I’m sensitive, overworked and each thrust of Daniil’s cock ignites the embers of my last orgasm.

He wrings the next out of me within minutes and I would collapse down the wall if not for his strong arms winding around my waist and keeping me close.

“Good girl,” he moans in my ear as warmth rushes inside me, mingling with the heat of my own pleasure. “Good girl.”

Is there anything sexier than a man moaning for you?

It’s utter bliss.

He lets me collapse onto the bed and I remain there, panting and twitching as he cleans me up with such care that it almost brings a tear to my eye. The sex is fantastic and the aftercare always takes me by surprise. Nothing quite makes me feel as cared for as this does.

It’s the impossible early hours by the time I crawl into bed and Daniil presses a warm kiss to my cheek.

“Rest,” he murmurs, gently tucking some of my hair behind my ear.

I want to. My eyelids are heavy and my body throbs like a bruise, but there’s one question lingering in my mind ever since Daniil mentioned Fyodor.

“Can I ask you something?” I squint up at him, studying my reflection in his glasses.

“Anything.”

“Where did Fyodor go? Where did he really go?”

Daniil’s mouth twists slightly as if debating, and then his shoulders rise with a deep breath.

“He’s away to speak to the only person Zasha remembers who isn’t part of his family. Ivan Shinsky.”

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