Page 35 of Stolen By The Bratva King

Leon’s voice is thick with anger, but his words betray him.

“Please.” His grip on my hair tightens again. “Please, Emery. I’m begging you.”

He said it. Leon thought he had control over me, but once he got his hands on me for real, he went to pieces.

Who knew I could do that to a man like him?

I open my mouth wider, and Leon’s control shatters. He thrusts forward, his girth filling my mouth, stretching my lips.

The soft tissues of my throat pulse and ripple around him, and he hits a spot so deep I have to cough, hocking up thick saliva.

Leon pulls out, and without warning, he lets go of my neck and shoves his fingers in my mouth. I splutter around them, and he rakes them over my tongue, palming the spit as he withdraws.

All I can do is stare as he jerks his cock, rubbing my saliva over his shaft to help the motion.

I’ve never seen an erection up close—my experience with a Central Park flasher is not one I choose to count—and I can’t hide my fascination. Leon’s is thick and pulsing, almost alive in his grip, the veins standing out as he strokes himself.

I fail to suppress a moan. My pussy is soaked and seeking attention, my clit chafing against the material of my panties.

I sigh with delight as Leon lines up with my mouth again. “More,” he says. “We gotta do that again, Emery. Your tight little cunt needs a preview of what it’s gotta deal with.”

He holds my head steady with both hands as he pistons in and out, choking me each time but moving too fast for it to be a genuine problem.

I begin to relax, allowing him to forge deeper, and he rewards me with a slap on the cheek.

“That’s it. You have a born talent for sucking cock; a talent only I will ever know.”

He yanks his hard-on out of my mouth and grabs it. He pulls my head back, tilting my chest up toward him.

“Hold your tits together, right here, and let me cover them in my come.”

His fist is a blur as he chases his peak. “Every drop is yours,” he says, his voice strained. “I saved it all week, waiting to give it to you.”

The room is full of Leon’s frantic groans, and my pussy seizes, desperate to swallow the surging thickness that’s wasted elsewhere.

Oh my God. It’s happening.

I’m caught in the moment, watching the way his muscles tense, the way his face twists with pleasure. I stare as he erupts, thick ropes of warmth spilling across my skin and covering my chest in slick, pearlescent streaks.

Leon kneels, trying to catch his breath, and for a moment, we’re eye-to-eye, his gaze softening as he studies me.

“Every bit of you,” he whispers, almost to himself, “is fucking perfect.”

23

Leon

I’m still tingling with the aftershocks of my climax, but Emery’s body is desperate for relief, no matter what the logical part of her tries to insist. Her pussy isn’t interested in pretending she’s an innocent, sexless angel anymore.

Not whileI’mthe one pleasuring her.

It’s my privilege to be the one to show her what this can feel like, to break her in.

But it’s more than possession; there’s something fragile in the way she looks at me, and it makes me want to do more than just take her.

Without a word, I pull Emery to her feet and lead her to the bed. Her breath hitches as she lies back, her hands nervously twisting in the sheets.

I can see the war inside her—excitement tangled with fear. She doesn’t trust her body yet, doesn’t trust that it can handle this, handle me. That’s where I come in.

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