Page 27 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, reverence in his voice, putting an end to my dark thoughts.

I reach for him, needing to feel his skin against mine. "Denis, please—"

I gasp as Denis's lips find my neck, trailing hot kisses down to my collarbone. His hands roam down my sides from the edge of my breasts to the curves of my waist, leaving tingles in their wake. I feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at me—like I'm the most precious thing he's ever seen—chases away any insecurity.

"You're perfect," he breathes against my skin, his fingers ghosting over the swell of my breasts.

I arch into his touch, craving more. "Denis, I need—"

"Shh," he soothes, sliding one hand up my inner thigh. "I've got you."

His fingers slip beneath the edge of my panties, and I moan at the contact. Denis uses his other hand to cradle the back of my neck, gently lowering me onto the desk. His weight presses against me, solid and reassuring.

"Is this okay?" he asks, eyes searching mine.

I nod frantically. "More than okay. Please, don't stop."

A wicked grin spreads across his face. "As you wish,moya koroleva."My queen.

My breath catches as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties, slowly sliding them down my legs. The cool air hitting my heated skin makes me tremble like a leaf.

I need him to movefaster.

"Denis, can you—oh!"

My question turns into a gasp of pleasure as he lowers his head between my thighs. His tongue slides across my slit, and my world narrows to the sensation. His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he works me with his mouth.

"Fuck," I breathe, tangling my fingers in his hair.

Every swipe of his tongue, every brush of his fingers sends sparks of pleasure coursing through me. I'm drowning in sensation, lost in the feel of him.

He squeezes into my hips with his nails, pulling my body closer to his body.

“Fuck,” I moan, closing my eyes and throwing my head back. I feel one hand glide between my thighs, and the next thing I know, he stops.

“Why?” I ask, disappointed with the pause, when suddenly I feel his cold finger glide into me.

He then shows me that patience can be rewarded by dipping his tongue into my folds with his finger working in tandem and drawing circles around my clit with his mouth before withdrawing it again.

“Can you,” I ask in a hoarse voice, “go faster please?”

“Well,” he pulls his mouth away and curves his finger till it hits that sweet spot against the wall just beneath my clit, “since you said please.”

And then, he hits that spot with his finger, over and over again, his mouth once again on my clit.

The tension coils tighter within me as Denis picks up his pace. My hips rock against his mouth, chasing the building pressure.

"Oh god, Denis," I pant. "I'm so close."

He hums against me, the vibration sending shockwaves through my body. One of his hands slides up to my breast, kneading gently.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Let go for me."

His words push me over the edge. I cry out as waves of pleasure crash over me, my body trembling beneath his touch. Denis doesn't let up, working me through my orgasm until I'm gasping and oversensitive.

When he finally pulls away, I'm breathless and spent. But as I look at him, taking in his disheveled hair and the hunger in his eyes, I realize this isn't enough. I want more.

I push myself up, sliding off the desk. Denis watches me intently as I move toward him, his gaze burning with desire. My fingers find his belt buckle, and I look up at him through my lashes.

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