Page 45 of Ruthless Bratva King

“Louder,” he demands, his fingers pressing just enough to tease but not satisfy. His mouth curves into a smirk, and the sheer power he exudes makes me feel completely at his mercy.

“Please, Dmitri,” I say louder this time, my voice carrying a raw edge of desperation as my body arches involuntarily toward him.

He rewards my plea with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with approval.

Without breaking his gaze, he pushes a finger inside me, the sensation shocking more moans from me.

He adds another, stretching me in a way that borders on pain but quickly turns into pleasure so intense it feels like it might undo me.

His tongue finds my clit, circling it with unrelenting precision.

A cry escapes my lips, my hips bucking against his hand.

He watches me, his dark eyes drinking in every sound and movement, his control unwavering even as I lose mine completely.

“That’s it,” he purrs, his voice low and hypnotic. “Come for me.”

The command, soft yet firm, reverberates through me. My body obeys before my mind can catch up, the tension inside me snapping like a tightly wound spring. A wave of pleasure crashes over me, powerful and all-consuming.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, until I’m a trembling mess, clutching the sheets for dear life.

When he finally withdraws his fingers, I feel empty, aching for more.

He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between my legs, and I feel the head of his cock press against me.

“Look at me,” he commands, and I open my eyes, meeting his gaze. “I want to see your face when I take you.”

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips, his hands gliding over my body with a reverence that makes me feel as though I’m the most important thing in his world.

His touch is deliberate, unhurried, giving me time to adjust to every new sensation.

He begins to push inside, inch by inch, slow and unrelenting. There’s a stretch, a brief moment of discomfort that makes me tense, but he pauses immediately.

“Breathe,” he whispers. “Relax. You’re doing so well.”

I take a shaky breath, and the tension eases. He moves again, deeper this time, and the discomfort gives way to something new, something warm and all-encompassing.

I let out a soft moan, and his lips find mine, his kiss tender and reassuring.

“You good?” he asks, his forehead pressed to mine, his voice strained with control.

“Yes,” I whisper. “Don’t stop.”

He begins to move, his rhythm slow and deliberate, giving me time to adjust to each thrust. His pelvis brushes against my clit, and I gasp, the pleasure building steadily, layer by layer.

My body responds instinctively, meeting his movements, and I can feel the connection between us deepen with every shared breath.

The pressure builds and I find myself teetering on the edge. “I can’t hold it,” I gasp, my hands gripping his shoulders.

“Wait for me,” he says, his pace quickening, his voice a low, growling plea. “Stay with me, Elena. Just a little longer.”

I try, biting my lip, my body trembling with the effort. But it’s too much—the pleasure crests, spilling over in a wave that leaves me crying out his name, my body tightening around him as I shatter.

He thrusts one last time, deep and claiming, a low, guttural groan escaping his lips as he spurts deep inside me.

For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing, the warmth of his body against mine.

Then, he slowly pulls away, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach flutter.

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