Page 90 of Owned By The Bratva King

Quinn hesitates, and I wonder if she’s shy, but the moment doesn’t last. Her hand slips over her stomach, and she closes her eyes, exhaling as her fingertips find her clit.

I’ve never seen anything so sexy in my life. I jerk off slowly, hypnotized by her delicate movements.

“Put your cock inside me,” she whispers. “I won’t get there without it.”

I give her a couple of inches, and she shifts her hips, trying to get more of me inside. “You’ll regret telling me that,” I say. “You want it all?”

“Yes.”

“You really are a greedy slut for my cock, moya zhena.” I shove all the way in, then pull free, drawing a howl from her. “Tell me what you are.”

Her eyes fly open, and she fixes me with a furious glare as she plays with her pussy. “I’m a greedy slut.”

“Almost.” I nudge her opening, and she drops her head back, her fingers finding another gear. “Come on, baby. Try again.”

“I’m yours!” she cries, almost sobbing with need. “I’m your greedy slut, Roman. Just give it to me!”

I clutch her throat again with one hand, her delicate tendons beneath my fingers. My other hand grabs a handful of her silky hair, pulling her head up so I can see her face.

“Look at me while I rail your cunt,” I say, easing my cock into her wet heat. “Keep your goddamn eyes on mine.”

Her pussy opens up as I lean my weight into her. I rest against her ass, letting my dick soak in her juices for a moment. She responds with a needy squeeze that lights up every nerve from root to tip.

“I love you,” I say, holding her gaze as I begin to move. She bites her lip, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she opens them again, locking her gaze onto mine. “But I’m gonna fuck you like I don’t.”

“Do it,” she says, her voice low and throaty. “I love you too, but I’m gonna take it like your whore, not your queen.”

“You’re both, Quinn.” I tighten my grip on her neck, and she smiles. “I was right to be obsessed with you and always will be.”

Her mouth falls open as I gain pace. The bed creaks, and we breathe heavily, moans filling the air. With each thrust, the warm, velvety walls of her pussy envelop my cock, her body writhing beneath mine as she moans my name.

I find myself talking, a stream of consciousness flowing from me as I fuck her.

“You’re perfect,” I say, thrusting harder and faster. I know she’s close, and I can’t wait to feel her come apart around me. “I love every inch of you. I’m gonna fill you right up. You have to get there, rusalka. Be a good little whore queen and milk the come out of me.”

Her eyes roll back in her head as her climax hits her like a tidal wave. She cries out in shock and ecstasy, and her internal walls spasm around me, clenching and releasing in an intoxicating rhythm.

My own orgasm erupts from within, a searing hot wave of pleasure that feels like it’s tearing me apart at the seams.

I pin her to the bed, my hands gripping her hips as I empty myself inside her. Thick jets of come spurt deep into her twitching pussy, filling her to the brim until every last drop has been wrung from my body.

I pull out and bounce my sticky cock on her mound, smearing my release over her skin. I’m gratified to see fingertip bruises blossoming already on her creamy throat, and her ass still bears red handprints.

Quinn sees me looking and tenses her legs. A stream of come runs out of her pussy, trickling over her asshole before pooling on the bed beneath her ass.

“That looks incredible,” I say. I bend down and lick her tiny rosebud, our mingled juices tangy on my tongue, and she giggles. “Glazed buns are the tastiest.”

66

Two weeks later…

Quinn

I’m an exhausted mess, smeared with ingredients from Madagascan vanilla to Demerara sugar. I sigh as I undo the laces and toss the offending apron into the laundry pile in the corner of the kitchen. It’s been a long day, but worth it.

“You did well, Quinn.” Marcel puts a paternal hand on my shoulder. “You’re a little heavy-handed when piping the eclairs. Remember: light, fast, and even.”

I nod. “Oui, chef.”

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