Page 50 of Forced Bratva Prisoner

I glance down at the buckle of my one high heel that I purposefully forgot to do up and slowly bend down with my back to him, clipping the buckle into place, knowing he can see everything.

When I stand up and do my usual slow spin in front of the mirror, I can see his cock is hard and pressing again his pants.

He leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands knotted in front of him.

He is struggling.

He is fighting desire, and I absolutely love seeing him so uncomfortable.

Slowly I walk towards him, and he looks up at me, the muscles of his jaw are feathering. I can see his forearms flexing and relaxing in agitation.

“What do you think of this one?” I ask as seductively as I can.

He lets his eyes trail up and down my body, taking in every inch of me.

The problem is that as much as I am torturing Leon, I am also torturing myself. It’s turning me on seeing him so attracted to me.

But I have to let him know that right now, I am the one in control. I am the one making the rules in this moment.

I step even closer, my legs brushing against his. He leans back against the sofa, unable to hide his rock-hard cock and how it’s stretching the seams of his pants.

“Just to be clear,” I say in a dark whisper. “I know how to torture, too. And before anyone ever tortures me again, I will make sure that I torture you in ways you were not expecting.” I glance down at his cock and smirk.

He clears his throat and glares at me with eyes so blue they might freeze me to death.

Then I turn around and walk back towards the dressing room, swaying my hips and flicking my hair ever so slightly.

I grin as I step into the booth, but then get the fright of my life when I realize Leon is right behind me.

He grabs the top of the door before I close it and pulls it open. He steps inside and locks it behind himself.

The look in his eyes is purely animalistic.

I’ve pushed him too far.

He grabs me around the waist and slams me up against the wall of the changing room, grabbing the dress and pulling it up.

His lips crash into mine and I feel like I should push him away or shout or try and stop him, but I can’t. My body has gone wild. His mouth moves against mine and all I can think is how incredible his body feels pushing me against the wall.

My pussy is throbbing with desire.

He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls my head back, growling against my ear. “I might let you think you are in control for a minute, but, little flower, you don’t stand a chance against me.”

As he speaks, he is pulling his pants open and freeing his cock, which springs out, massive and throbbing, standing erect. I gasp when my eyes fall on it. The thick veins that run along his shaft are pulsing.

He kisses me again, but now I can feel his cock pressing against me and I lift my arms to wrap them around his neck and pull myself closer to him.

This is not what I planned. I want to be in control. I have to find a way to stay in control.

He grabs my wrist and pins it behind my back. Then he grabs my hips and spins me around, bending me forward over the bench. I am not in control.

His fingers slip beneath my panties, and he rips them off without any effort at all.

I cry out in shock and his hand clamps over my mouth.

His fingers dip inside me and I feel myself rocking back against his hand.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he snarls. Then his fingers are gone and I’m dying inside, desperate to relieve this intense lust I feel.

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