Page 20 of Stalked & Bred by the BRATVA
He watches me the whole time. I can feel it. I don’t need to see his face to know he’s drinking this in.
“You’re soaked,” he murmurs. “All for me.”
“Yes.”
He slides one thick finger into me and I moan like I’ve been starving for it despite the short sharp snap of pain from never having been entered before.
He works me open, slow but unrelenting. Then two fingers. The stretch makes my toes curl. I can’t stop moving, my hips rolling in small, desperate circles.
“Such a tight little cunt,” he growls. “No one’s ever been here, have they?”
I shake my head, barely able to breathe.
“Say it.”
“No one,” I gasp. “Only you.”
“Good girl.”
He curls his fingers and my whole world shatters.
The orgasm hits fast and sharp, stealing the breath from my lungs. I clamp down around him, crying out as the waves crash over me.
He doesn’t stop. He works me through it, slow and possessive, like he’s claiming every pulse of pleasure for himself.
When it fades, I’m shaking. Blinking up at the ceiling like I don’t know where I am anymore.
He leans in, his mouth brushing the shell of my ear.
“That was mine,” he whispers. “The next one will be louder.”
Then he’s gone.
I’m wrecked.
Mikhail
I can still feel her on my fingers.
Warm. Slick. Desperate.
I keep my hand closed in my lap like I’m holding the echo of her body inside my fist, like if I open it, I’ll lose the last trace of her heat.
I’ve fucked women. Controlled them. Bent them to my will. But I’ve never touched someone like her. Never undone a girl with so little effort. She didn’t just come, shesurrendered. Whispered her yes into the dark like a prayer.
And now I want more.
No. I wanteverything.
Her mouth. Her cunt. Her tears. Her dreams. I want to break her open and live inside her. I want her to wake up every morning and ache for me, to forget who she was before I stepped into her life.
Before I climbed inside her mind and rewrote the rules.
She said no one had touched her before.
She lied.
Because I’ve touched every part of her.
