Page 78 of Pregnant Bratva Wife
His thrusts became more deliberate, aimed to hit that perfect angle. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his jaw clenched.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, his voice strained. “So fucking perfect.”
The pressure inside me built like a storm—hot, electric. Every thrust of his hips hit deeper, harder, sharper, grinding against that perfect spot until I was gasping, clawing at his back, the edge looming closer with every ragged breath.
My thighs tightened around his waist. I couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from me—broken, breathless little whimpers that only made him pound harder.
He watched me like heneededit—my unraveling, my pleasure. His hair was damp, jaw clenched, eyes locked on mine like he could drag the orgasm out of me with just that gaze alone.
Then—God.
His hand slid between us, fingers finding my clit, circling slow at first—taunting me, teasing me—then faster, tighter, more relentless, until my body was arching into his touch like I couldn’t stand being apart from it.
“Come for me again,” he growled, voice rough and low, lips brushing my cheek as he leaned over. “I want to feel youlose itaround my cock.”
A strangled moan ripped from my throat.
He didn’t stop. He thrust deep and slow, hand working me in perfect rhythm, every nerve firing, every inch of me caught in the rising wave.
“You’re close,” he murmured, forehead pressed to mine, breath hot and ragged. “I canfeelit.”
“Fuck—Federico—please—”
“Let go,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
And then he changed his angle, hips rolling harder, deeper, the pressure against my clit unrelenting, until the tension snapped like a live wire.
I shattered.
The orgasm tore through me with brutal force, my cry caught in my throat as my body locked around him. Wave after wave crashed, rolling through my spine, my limbs, my core—until he crushed his mouth to mine, swallowing the broken sound of my release like he needed to taste it.
I clenched around him, pulsing tight, dragging a low curse from his chest as he held still inside me, jaw clenched tight.
Then—with a groan—he thrust and buried himself to the hilt before spilling inside me, his release hot and deep, his body trembling as he came with me.
He didn’t pull away.
Didn’t speak.
Just stayed there, forehead against mine, breathing me in like I was the only air left in the room.
And I clung to him, boneless and ruined, knowing I’ve never had and never will have sex like this with another man.
Slowly, reality began to creep back in—the sound of voices from the main floor, the uncomfortable press of the desk edge against my back.
Federico pulled back slightly, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it. He brushed a strand of hair from my face, his touch unexpectedly tender.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, smiling at him. He cupped my cheek, pulled away, and then collected my clothes, handing them back to me.
“Well,” I said softly as I got dressed. “So much for being professional.”
Federico laughed. “I think we just redefined workplace relations.”
And then he pulled me in for one more kiss.
***
