Page 41 of Paid for By the Bratva

With me on his lap, straddling him, my heart races as I feel his erection press against me. He runs his hands through my hair and pulls my body away from his, hungry eyes reveling in the sight of me on his lap, in nothing but a skirt and my bra.

He cups his hands over my bra, feeling the weight of my breasts. “You have no idea,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over the fabric of my bra, “how mad you drive me.”

I lean in, the heat of his breath against my neck making me shiver. “Dima,” I play hard to get, my voice low and seductive. “I bet you’ve been fantasizing about this moment for a lot longer than I have.”

“Oh, you bet,” he lets me have it.

His hands begin to work on my bra, undoing the clasp with expert precision. He eases it apart, revealing my breasts for the first time to his eyes. He stares down at them reverently, and for a second, I feel shy, bending down into myself. He looks up and shakes his head, as though to tell me I’m crazy to think I’m anything but beautiful, before proceeding to kiss me across my jaw, down my neck, to my breasts. His teeth graze my flesh, reaching for my nipples, making me gasp.

"I want you," he growls, sucking on one breast, fondling the other with gentle motions, my breasts filling the cup of his hands. I arch into his touch, wanting more.

"Yes," I breathe, my legs already quivering for more. With deft fingers, I remove his shirt, feel the chiseled lines of all those hard muscles, and revel in the sight of ink across his arms. For a moment, I forget why I’m here. With his perfect body, this Adonis of a man, makes me forget why he’s sitting in front of me, naked. I lose my breath, my thoughts, my reason for action.

In a smooth motion, he gets off the chair and pulls me out of my revelry, my legs wrapped around him, and lays me back on his desk, scattering papers, not caring.

He sheds off his unbuttoned shirt and pulls down his trousers. His fingers reach for the hem of my skirt, sliding it up, revealing my panties.

He slides a finger through the band of my panties and twists it in a knot before releasing it. I jerk when it slaps my skin.

“Fuck,” he moans, sliding it down.

He stands above me now, watching me writhe on his desk, almost naked, save the skirt pulled up. I clench my arms above me, suddenly shy from how I might look.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers, gently tracing the outline of my breasts, moving down to my waist, over the thin spread of the skirt, to my hips. I lurch when he parts my thighs, and his fingers find their way between my legs, reaching for my folds. I watch as he bends low, sits on his knees, and places his head between my lips.

In one motion, his lips are on the nub of my pussy, and his finger rams in.

“Dima,” I moan, lurching off the table. He places a hand on my stomach and holds me down firmly, anchoring me to the hardwood with his strength.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growls, his voice textured by my arousal.

“Yes,” I pant, my body desperately craving more. I feel him suck harder at my folds, his tongue swirling around the bundle of nerves there. I arched my back at the sensation of his hot breath against my clit.

His finger thrust in and out, reaching deeper, him becoming more intense, his tongue fucking me with the same rhythm, his vibrations causing an orgasm to build.

“Fuck me, Dima,” I moan, wanting to hold off, to feel him, wanting to control when I cumfor him.“Now!” I scream with urgency.

I barely register the sound of him standing and shedding his boxers, but then hot, slick flesh enters me, stretching me further than anything ever has. I gasp, my eyes wide in surprise and ecstasy.

"Fuck," I moan, my body immediately adjusting to his size.

He pulls out and thrusts back in, his shaft sliding in and out of me, filling me up like nothing else ever has. The sensation is incredible, overwhelming. Dima's body covers mine, his hands gripping my hips, holding me tight as he pounds into me. Our skin slaps together, the friction nearly electrifying. I claw at his shoulders, my nails digging into his flesh, my screams subsiding into rough, dirty murmurs.

"You feel so good, Lara," he groans, his eyes locked on mine.

"Oh, Dima," I breathe, my voice trembling. "I never knew…I never knew it could be like this."

And I didn’t. Never has a man made me feel this…insatiable. Hungry. With Dima, I think I’ll always want more.

His thrusts become more frenzied, his breaths shallow. He leans down, his lips brushing against mine. I taste myself on him, and I moan into his mouth, my body bucking underneath him.

"I need you to cum for me, Lara," he growls, his voice rough and needy. "I need to feel you around me."

The words send a jolt of pleasure through me, and I arch my back, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "Make me cum, Dima," I beg my voice barely a whisper. "Make me yours."

He doesn't need to be told twice. With one final, powerful thrust, he pulls out, and with one swift motion, he aims his shaft and thrusts back inside me. I whimper at the sensation, my body trembling in anticipation.

"That's it, Baby," he coos, his eyes locked on mine. "Cum for me, Lara. Let me feel you."

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