Page 47 of Ruthless Bratva King

“Faster,” he orders, his hips thrusting gently to meet my movements.

I comply, increasing my pace, focusing solely on pleasing him. His hands guide me, controlling the rhythm, and I surrender completely to his will.

His hands tighten in my hair, holding me steady as he pulls himself out of my mouth. I look up at him, breathing heavily, my lips swollen and wet from the effort.

His dark eyes are wild, almost feral, and they lock onto mine with an intensity that makes my stomach clench.

“On the bed," he commands, his voice low and thick with desire. "Now."

I scramble to obey, my legs trembling as I climb onto the plush mattress. He doesn’t move immediately, instead standing at the edge of the bed, watching me with that predatory gaze.

His chest rises and falls with each breath, his sculpted muscles taut and glistening under the dim light. The tattoos that snake across his skin seem alive, shifting with every movement.

"Turn around," he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. "On all fours."

I do as I’m told, positioning myself so that I’m facing the headboard. I hear him step closer, the weight of the bed dipping as he kneels behind me. His hands find my hips, his touch firm but not rough, and I shiver at the contact.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his voice a deep rumble that sends heat coursing through my veins.

I nod, unable to speak, my throat too dry to form words.

"Say it," he demands, his fingers digging slightly into my flesh.

"Yes," I whisper, my voice barely audible. "I trust you."

He lets out a low hum of approval before one hand slides around to my front, his fingers brushing against my clit.

I gasp, my body arching instinctively into his touch. He teases me, circling my entrance without entering, until I’m panting and writhing, desperate for more.

"Beg," he orders, his voice rough with need.

"Please," I whimper, my hands gripping the sheets. "Please, Dmitri."

"What do you want?" he growls, his breath hot against my ear.

"I… I want you," I stammer, my cheeks burning with humiliation and arousal. "I want you inside me."

He doesn’t respond right away, drawing out the moment, his fingers still teasing me mercilessly.

Finally, he moves, positioning himself at my entrance. I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against me, and I tense, bracing myself.

He pushes in slowly, inch by excruciating inch, until he’s fully seated within me. A strangled moan escapes my lips, the sensation overwhelming.

"S-Shit," I choke out, my nails digging into the mattress.

"You’re so tight," he mutters, his voice strained. "So fucking perfect."

He begins to move, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in. The pace is slow, deliberate, each stroke designed to make me feel every bit of him.

His grip on my hips tightens, guiding my movements, forcing me to meet his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with our ragged breaths.

"Faster," I plead, my voice breaking. "Please, faster."

He obliges, increasing his speed, his cock driving into me with a force that makes me cry out. My body shakes with pleasure, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

One hand leaves my hip, sliding up my spine to grip the back of my neck, holding me firmly in place. His other hand ventures lower, finding my clit and rubbing circles over it in time with his thrusts.

"Oh God," I moan, my vision blurring. "I’m… I’m going to?—"

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