Page 89 of Owned By The Bratva King

“I know. You’re made of strong stuff.” He tips shower gel onto a sponge, working the lather over my breasts and stomach. “Feel good?”

“So much. Thank you.”

“You don’t owe me your gratitude,” he says, massaging my scalp with his strong fingers. “I get to love you. I’m fucking blessed.”

He washes my hair, and I dunk my head to rinse it. Under his cleansing touch, the filth and degradation of my captivity dissolve into nothingness, and I feel renewed.

“I think you’re clean now,” Roman says. He traces the curves of my tits where they crest the water’s surface. “Moya koroleva. You’re my queen, and you alone made a king your slave. How does it feel?”

“Better than anything.”

I arch my back slightly, inviting him to explore further. He takes the hint and cups my breasts, squeezing gently before teasing my nipples with his thumbs. I open my eyes and look up at him, the desire in his gaze making my heart race.

He leans down and kisses me, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands continue to roam over my body.

He breaks away from the kiss and moves his hand down my stomach, tracing a path to my pussy. I hold my breath as he begins to circle my clit with his fingers, applying just the right amount of pressure to make me moan, and I grip the edge of the tub, my knuckles turning white as the sensations become more intense.

His cock grows hard against me, and he shifts so he can slip it between my soapy thighs.

“That’s fucking hot,” he murmurs. “Do you want to come, or do you need my cock to get you there?”

I can barely speak; my attention is focused on the sensitive spot that grows ever more swollen as he works it. The heat of his shaft as it slides against my pussy lips adds to the sensation, and I drop back onto his chest as his hand grips my neck.

“Use your big girl voice.” Roman’s fingertips press along the length of the tendon, his other hand moving insistently between my legs. “What do you want?”

“Let’s get out of the water,” I gasp. “I want you inside me.”

“Such a good little slut.” He bites my earlobe and releases me, helping me to my feet. “Out you get.”

We grab towels, and I stare as he rubs himself down. His erection is solid and straight, the tip a deep plum color, and he grasps it, watching me from beneath heavy lids as I dry off.

“Bed.” He opens the bathroom door. “This is gonna be rough, Quinn. I haven’t got a chance in hell of holding back.”

65

Roman

My wife is everything I wanted and didn’t know I needed. I’ll thank the fates daily for leading me to her tiny corner of Manhattan on that cold night.

Quinn’s skin is golden and flushed from the heat of the bath, her wet hair wound into a thick rope over one shoulder. She looks so damn good, and I suppress a snarl as I snatch her throat, making her gasp.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” I lean close and bite her lip, grabbing her ass with the other hand. “You ready for it?”

“Oh, God, yes.” Her voice is barely a whisper under the constriction of my grip. “You’ve no idea how much I wanna feel that.”

I reach between her legs, teasing my fingertips between her folds, and find her slick with excitement. “Your pussy is telling on you, rusalka.”

I give her only one finger, and she hisses with frustration as I dance the pad of my thumb around her clit. “Don’t,” she groans. “You’re such an asshole, Roman!”

I push her onto the bed and grab both her thighs, folding her body so her knees are by her ears. The sight of her flushed pussy and rosy little asshole is enough to make my cock throb, pre-come leaking from the tip.

Without warning, I bring my hand down hard on the flesh of her ass, and she squeals in shock. I grab my cock and line up with her entrance, plunge in to the hilt, then pull out again.

“Holy shit!” Quinn looks at me from between her legs. “It hurts, but please do it again!”

I spank her ass cheeks with both hands and fuck my cock deep into her again. Her internal walls ripple along my length, and I have to withdraw before she milks the come out of me.

“Nuh-uh,” I say, rubbing my hands over her reddening skin. “You’re not gonna get me that way. Touch yourself for me, and I’ll enjoy the show.”

---