Page 26 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

I’ve never let a man watch me before. We were either fucking or not, no in between. Something about bearing yourself that way made me uncomfortable, but here I was, against my better judgment, legs spread out and my pussy in the open for Mikhail, and I was loving every bit of it.

I didn’t hear him walk up to me. All I heard was his soft hum as his finger gently ran through my drenched folds, gathering the moisture on my clit and tracing slow circles. The sensation had my toes curling, and I held on tighter to the walls to steady myself. “Mikhail,” I moaned, thrusting myself further into his fingers. I wanted more. Pleasure seeped into my veins, spreading through every part of my body, and his fingers did very little to ease the pressure that was building in me.

“Please,” I drawled, grinding myself into his fingers. Caution and common sense were out the window, and in their place was the burning need for him to fill me up.

“Please, what?” He murmured, peppering my back with light kisses and soft bites. “Go on, tell me what you want.” His finger pressed into my clit, the pressure almost causing my knees to buckle. I opened my mouth to tell him, but my brain could barely string a sentence together with his hands on me. My head was blank and devoid of thoughts. I was a bundle of nerves responding to whatever he gave me.

I felt his tongue on my neck, nibbling and licking his way to my ears. “You want me to shove my cock into you and fuck your cute little pussy till you can’t feel anything but me moving in and outof you? You want me to fuck you so hard till your throat is raw from screaming my name?”

Fuck! My walls clenched with every promise he made, and I didn’t know if it was possible for my pussy to get wetter than it was at the moment.

“You want that?” he asked, biting deep into my neck. I could only muster a nod, not trusting my voice to do a good job.

“Words, princess. If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to say it.”

“I want you to fuck me, Mikhail.” I practically screamed in one breath, and he chuckled darkly against my ears.

“As you wish.”

That was the only warning I got before he shoved his cock into me, almost pushing me into the wall. I was so wet he met no resistance, but I could feel the slight burning as he moved in and out of me.

“Oh my god!” I screamed, gripping the walls tighter as he thrust into me. His hands gripped my hips, angling me so he was hitting that spot that sent me into a frenzy. My vision was blurry, and my throat was raw from screaming. Every thrust of his hips sent raw jolts of electricity through me, drawing an even louder moan from me.

“You feel so good.” He groaned, intensifying the force of his thrust. “And you fit so fucking tight like you were made to be fucked by me.”

“You.”

Thrust

“Are.”

Thrust

Mine.

And with a final earth-shattering thrust, he drew my orgasm from me. A loud cry escaped my lips as my walls clenched and my hips gyrated erratically with the force of my orgasm. Mikhail didn’t stop fucking me. He kept thrusting into me till I felt him stiffen, and my walls were coated with his cum, some of it leaking into my thighs.

My legs suddenly felt jelly, and he was fast to catch me before I fell to the ground. This was hands down the best sex of my life.

*****

I woke from the longest sleep of my life to the sweet aroma of bacon and pancakes. I have vague memories of Mikhail picking me from the bathroom floor and washing me off before laying me on the bed. After that, the rest was oblivion. I moved to swing my feet off the bed and was stopped by the dull pain in my pussy. The downside of great sex was how sore you got the morning after.

“Morning Sunshine.” Mikhail appeared at the door, a tray of breakfast and orange juice in hand. I didn’t know how sore my throat was until I opened my mouth to return his greeting and croaked like the closest relative of a frog. The idiot chuckled lightly and handed me a bottle of water, and I shot him a glare, to which he replied with a wide smile. He wrecked my pussy and throat and had the guts to smile? Jerk.

“I’m not the best chef, but I was told I make mean pancakes.” He said, setting the tray of food on the nightstand.

“How are you feeling?” He picked up my hands and started to trail kisses from my fingers to my upper arms. I felt the familiar tingle run down my spine but shoved him away, not sure my body can handle anything at this point.

“I’m fine, thank you. Now let me eat. I need to replenish my strength.” I grumbled, picking the food from the tray and taking a bite of the pancake.

My eyes widened in pleasant surprise, and Mikhail’s lips curled up in a manner that said “told you so.”

The pancakes were surprisingly tasty. They tasted a lot better than what most breakfast cafès sold. “This is really good,” I said through a mouth full of food.

“Eat up and get dressed. We have a long day,” he said, placing a kiss on my head and making his way to the bathroom.

My nose scrunched up, and I sent him a suspicious look. “Long day? Why?”

---