Page 34 of Stolen By The Bratva King

WhatIneed?

His words wash over me, his tone gentle yet commanding, and they spark something raw inside me. I should know better; he’s another man who takes what he wants, regardless of my feelings.

Except that’s not true. Leon may have forced me into marriage, but that was his only coercive act.

He hasn’t made a single move without my implicit permission. He hasn’t crossed a line; he could see the need in me.

Even now, with his swollen cock inches from my lips, he’s waiting. Asking for mercy, begging for my consent.

The realization hits me like a shock of cold water: Icouldstop this. Right here, right now.

If I told him to leave, he would. This isn’t the Leon who dominates every room, who seizes control with ruthless precision. Right now, he looks almost vulnerable, holding back the force of his desire and offering me the reins.

I have more control than I ever imagined.

The thought fills me with a new kind of heat that builds slowly in my chest and belly, seeping into every limb.

I raise my head, meeting his gaze. Leon’s eyes smolder, his intensity and hunger focused on me. My breath ghosts over the thick, glistening tip of his cock, and his fingers tighten reflexively in my hair.

“Don’t you dare tease me,” he growls, his voice rough. “Fuck around and find out,moya zhena. I have precious little control as it is, so provoke me at your own risk.”

I smile; for once, I feel like I have the upper hand. But I still don’t know what the Hell I’m doing.

“I’ve never done this before,” I murmur. “I might not be any good.”

His eyes soften for a second, and he lets out a low laugh that rumbles through my core.

“Just keep those pretty lips open, baby,” he says, guiding his cock closer. “Let me have you. That’s all I need.”

He eases his way in, inch by inch, letting me adjust. My mouth stretches to accommodate him, and I taste his clean skin mixed with a faint saltiness from his pre-come. It’s foreign and oddly intoxicating.

“That’s my good girl,” he says. His fingers shift, not yanking but holding me steady, his movements careful as though testing my limits.

I steal a glance up at him, and I’m spellbound.

My inexperienced brain could never have conjured up something like this. I can’t stop staring, can’t look away.

From this angle, he seems even more imposing; every muscle is tense, the lean lines of his body drawn tight as though he’s barely holding himself in check.

Leon’s head tips back, his throat taut, his pulse beating wildly between the tendons. His breathing is ragged, each word leaden with exertion.

“All you have to do is surrender,” he murmurs.

He shifts his feet, adjusting his stance as he holds me steady, guiding me exactly where he wants. “Let me fuck your throat and come on those juicy tits of yours. Then I swear, I’ll give you anything you want.”

His words send a pulse of heat through me, making my core ache.

This is nothing like I thought intimacy would be. It’s raw and primal, and yet, I have power. He’s at my mercy, bound by his honor not to take what I don’t deign to give.

“Say please,” I whisper, barely daring to meet his gaze.

Leon drags one hand from my hair and snatches my neck, making me gasp in shock.

“You bratty little slut.”

He bares his teeth at me, and for a moment, I think he’s going to do whatever he wants, and to Hell with my consent.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Why did I push him? He warned me not to do it.

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