Page 16 of Watched and Bred By the Bratva
She obeys. Tentatively at first, palm cupping herself, thumb circling with a choked gasp. The sight of her doing that under my command makes my vision go black at the edges.
I kiss my way down her belly, her skin twitching under each drag of my mouth. By the time I open her thighs wide and sink lower, her breaths are sharp, ragged, punctured with tiny whimpers.
Then she’s bare to me. Beautiful brown lips glossed with the wet of arousal, framed by soft curls like velvet. Perfect. Real. Untouched.
Her thighs tremble, knees jerking, her hands faltering against her chest.
“Don’t hide from me. Look at me,” I order, lifting my head to pin her with my stare.
She forces her lashes open, wet dark brown eyes locking on mine. Vulnerable. Trembling. Goddamn exquisite.
“That’s it. Keep playing with those nipples. Don’t stop.”
I lower myself and taste her. Tongue dragging from slick folds up to her swollen clit.
Her mouth opens on a loud cry, her hips jolting. “Oh—God—Nikolai—”
“Do you want this?” I ask, tongue flicking again, holding her captive under my gaze.
“Yes—oh God—yes—I—don’t stop—” she gasps, voice breaking.
Her honesty rips me apart.
“Good girl.” I feast on her, mouth sucking, tongue circling deliberately over her clit while her gasps spiral higher. Her hips rock against me, instinct finally taking over.
I capture her hand again, drag it down, force her fingers to circle her clit while I press deeper with mine. Her face flushes in shame, but her hand moves, clumsy at first, then desperate.
“That’s it,” I rasp, my mouth against her thigh, two fingers sliding slow inside her heat. She clenches, walls gripping hard, her nails scraping the table as she pants. “Tell me what you feel.”
Her cry tumbles out: “Full—so—full—” Her thighs shake, her toes curl, her lips part wider as she moans without control.
“Yes, full of me. You’ll always be full of me.” I thrust rhythmically, curling my fingers until her pupils go glassy, her breath snatched into broken sounds.
She gasps, shaking her head, as though she can still fight it. “I—I can’t—”
“You can. Do you want to come for me?”
Her voice breaks again, caught between sob and moan. “Yes, I—yes, I want—”
“Then give it to me. I need it. This is life. Give me life, Zara.”
Her whole body seizes, every muscle clenching. Her head tips back, lips split on a cry, arms shaking violently. She starts to retreat from it, tension pulling her away at the edge—
“Don’t. You. Dare,” I snarl. I shove her hand aside and clamp my mouth on her clit, sucking ruthlessly, tongue punishing.
Her scream cracks the air. Her orgasm tears through her in violent waves, her body detonating under me, cunt spasming hard around my fingers, wet rushing as she shakes and shakes.
Her moans spiral freer, higher, rawer. Broken “yes—yes—yes—” spilling into the space between us, the sound I’ll live on until I die.
I don’t stop. I force her through the aftershocks, pinning her hips when she tries to twist away from the overwhelming sensitivity, keeping my mouth locked on her clit, my fingers thrusting deep. “You’ll take another. And another. Until you know you were never broken. You were waiting for me to drag it out of you.”
Her cry cracks into another scream as the second orgasm bowls through her, more savage than the first.
I don’t let her go. Not until she’s clenching and sobbing, not until the table beneath her is slick with her wetness and her voice is hoarse from screaming my name.
Only then do I rise, my mouth and jaw wet, my cock straining against my slacks like steel. I lean over her ruined body, foreheads crashing together, voice ragged as I force her to look at me.
“No boys. No men. No one else.” My words are steel and fire, seared into her mind. “There was only ever me. And now your body knows it.”
