Page 68 of Claimed Bratva Virgin

“Okay,” she rasped shakily. “I want my punishment to be quick but gentle.”

“I can do quick. And for your sake, gentle.”

My fingers found the knot keeping her robe tied together, and I unraveled it. The soft material came apart, and I skimmed a hand, brushing past her stomach, to knead her breasts. They were soft and full. And her tits pebbled under my touch.

She arched into me, whimpering. “You don’t even know what the punishment is.”

“Well, it better be what I have in mind.”

Growling, I pulled away the robe off her thighs, kissing my way up to her sex. As expected, she was already so pink and so fucking wet for me. I buried my face between her legs and covered her hot cunt with my mouth. An oasis.

I grazed her nub with my teeth, sucked hard on her pussy, keeping her from squirming with a firm grip on her waist. I dipped my head, licking from the base of her ass up to her quivering folds and back again. And when I couldn’t get enough, I smacked her ass hard.

Her hips bucked, driving her pussy deeper into my mouth.

“Si—Rafa.... Dio mio…!”More Italian words poured in a rush from her lips, and she choked on a sob when I lapped my tongue over her clit, latching hard enough to leave a bruise. But her cry was of pleasure.

She cupped one of her breasts in her hand, pulling and tugging, and…she was so fucking beautiful. So fucking gorgeous. I needed to be inside her. Unable to keep up with the torture, I rose to my feet, freeing my cock from its prison. It sprung out, and her pupils dilated. Loosening the towel from her hair, she edged deeper into the bed, spreading her legs wider for me.

I stroked my shaft, clenching my jaw as I held her gaze. “What’s your punishment, Mrs. Yezhov?”

“Fuck me, Rafa.” Her eyes stayed glued on my hands while I stroked. She knew I liked it when she begged. She could get me to do almost anything when she was at my mercy. “Fuck me hard and fast, please, Rafa.”

I grabbed her by the hips, closer to the edge, and sunk inside her. We groaned at the same time, reveling in the pleasure we knew, deep down, only we could provide for each other. These weren’t words we spoke aloud, but she saw it in my eyes, and I’d seen it in hers. Every time we plunged into ourselves,that ravenous hunger we had only grew stronger. And it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

I fucked her gently but hard enough to make her titties bounce. Hard enough to force my name out of her lips multiple times. Hard enough to have her screaming and trembling when her orgasm hit stronger than I’d witnessed before.

And when she opened her eyes and gave me a lazy half-drunken smile, I lowered my lips to hers, kissing her hard when the tension rolled off my shoulders and my body tightened. I came inside her, as hard as she’d shattered beneath me.

I started to pull away, but she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.

Chapter 22 – Leonora

The afternoon was quiet, and it was the kind that felt heavier than it should have.

For the past five months, the weight in my chest grew as steadily as the child in my womb. I sat on the edge of the sofa, resting my hands protectively over my swollen belly. The house was still, except for the distant noise from some of the men beyond the windows.

When I heard familiar footsteps echo through the foyer, I knew it was Rafayel before his tall frame came through the parlor. Relief swept through me. He was home.

Recently, I craved his presence as much as I craved his body. Just having him in the same space kept me from teetering off the edge or crying for no reason. I looked up as he stepped inside, his tie loosened, his phone still pressed to his ear. I smiled, but he didn’t. He mouthed, “Just a second,” and retreated to the kitchen to finish his call.

I sat there, staring at the pattern on the rug, rehearsing the words I’d been turning over in my mind for weeks. When he finally reappeared, I cleared my throat, backing my voice with the confidence I felt. It was taking a lot of pride to do this, but I couldn’t hold off much longer.

It’d been eight whole months since I heard from Papa, and it was killing me.

“Rafayel,” I started, my hands clenching into fists in my lap. “I’ve been thinking. It’s been a while. Eight months. Phew. I can’t…I can’t keep holding onto this anger. I want to talk to Papa. He’s just as stubborn as I am, so I guess he’s never going to call. But maybe it’s time to make things right.”

Rafayel sat on the couch face and put his phone on the center table. His face shifted, and I saw it, a crack in his usualcalculated demeanor. “Leonora, I just got off the phone with Marco.”

Marco? Why would Marco call Rafayel and not me?

“Enzo….” He paused, as if searching for the right words. “He passed away this morning.”

For a moment, I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. Papa? Passed away? No, he couldn’t have. The last time I saw him, we were at each other’s throats. He wouldn’t leave without giving me a chance to apologize. He wouldn’t—

Papa wouldn’t leave me.

“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “You’re fucking joking.” I laughed, but it was strangled with tears I struggled to keep in because, somehow, I knew Rafayel wouldn’t play with me like that. I shot to my feet. “Marco’s fucking joking. This is a—no.”

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