Page 76 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
He helped. His fingers reached for his shirt, made quick work of it.
“What if someone comes?” I gasped, noticing the door was unlocked.
“Let them,” he growled and ate any other protests I may have by locking his lips against mine, sending a thrill down my spine.
His shirt was finally unbuttoned, and I shoved it off his shoulders, baring that perfect chest, those ridges of muscle that flexed with every ragged breath he took.
His fingers trailed up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher with torturous slowness. Each inch of skin burned where hetouched. When he reached the edge of my underwear, he paused, his thumb circling just beside where I needed him most.
“Federico, stop teasing,” I whispered in part warning and part plea.
His eyes crinkled with that half smile and locked on mine as he pressed his palm against my panties, feeling the dampness through the thin fabric. The pressure was delicious but not nearly enough.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice strained. “You’re soaked.”
My cheeks flushed, but I didn’t look away. “Your fault.”
“Mine,” he agreed, sinking to his knees before me like a man in worship.
He pushed my skirt up around my waist, his gaze traveling hungrily over my legs and thighs. Slowly—so slowly I thought I might scream—he hooked his fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along my inner thighs as he went.
The sight of Federico Lebedev on his knees, looking up at me with such worship, nearly undid me. He tossed my underwear aside and placed his hands on my knees.
“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered.
My legs were jelly, but I tried.
“More,” he commanded.
God, why was that tone so fucking hot? The way he gave orders like he expected instant compliance—which, honestly, he usually got. Including from me, apparently, because I found myself opening wider for him.
Still, it wasn’t enough for Federico. He placed his palms on my inner thighs and spread them further apart, exposing me completely. The cool air hit my center, making me shiver.
“Perfect,” he murmured, his breath hot against my pussy.
And then—oh God.
His mouth found me, tongue stroking, curling, licking like he knew exactly how to unmake me. I gasped, one hand clutching the edge of the desk, the other buried in his hair.
He devoured me. No mercy. No hesitation.
I gripped the edge of the desk, heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst through my chest. Federico pulled away, and his eyes flicked up to mine, holding my gaze as he leaned in and licked a slow, deliberate stripe right up my center.
My head fell back with a gasp.
“Look at me,” he ordered.
I forced my head back up, meeting his gaze as he continued toying with me. His tongue circled my clit with precision before dipping lower, exploring every inch of me.
One large hand splayed across my stomach, holding me in place as I instinctively tried to squirm away from the overwhelming sensation. The other slid beneath me, lifting my hips slightly to give him better access.
“You taste even better than I ever imagined,” he murmured against me.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he slid one finger inside me, curling it forward in a beckoning motion that made me cry out. My thighs trembled as he added a second finger, stretching me deliciously while his tongue continued its relentless rhythm against my clit.
“Oh my god,” I gasped, one hand flying to his hair, tangling in the dark strands.
He hummed his approval. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
