Page 76 of Bratva Bride
Chapter 15
Ivan
Thedreamdissolvedinstages—first the edges blurring, then the narrative collapsing, and finally consciousness seeping in through cracks in sleep. But what pulled me up wasn't sound or light. It was sensation. Wet heat around my cock, a careful suction that made my hips lift before my brain could process what was happening.
My body understood before my mind did. Blood rushed south with single-minded purpose while my thoughts struggled through the fog of deep sleep. The pleasure was too specific to be a dream—the gentle scrape of teeth, the flutter of tongue along the underside, the way my cock throbbed in response to each pull of that perfect mouth.
I opened my eyes to paradise and devastation in equal measure.
Anya knelt between my thighs, naked in the pre-dawn light that filtered through our villa's gauze curtains. Her dark hair fell forward in a curtain, hiding most of her face, but Icould see enough—the hollow of her cheeks as she sucked, the concentrated furrow between her brows, the way her small hands gripped my thighs for leverage. She'd kicked off the sheets entirely, leaving both of us exposed to the warm Maldivian air that carried salt through our open windows.
The sight alone nearly ended me. My wife—brilliant, anxious, beautiful Anya—had woken before me to worship my cock. This wasn't performance or obligation. This was her choosing to give me pleasure, taking her own satisfaction from my response.
She must have felt me tense because she looked up, my cock still between her lips, and the combination of innocence and intent in those dark eyes scrambled my higher brain functions entirely.
"Good morning, Daddy," she said around my cock, voice muffled but unmistakably playful, and I had to grip the sheets hard enough that my knuckles went white to keep from immediately coming down her throat.
She pulled back slightly, just enough to speak more clearly, though her hand kept stroking with devastating precision. "I've been practicing. Well, researching. There are some very educational websites if you know where to look."
Of course she had. My genius wife approached oral sex with the same scholarly dedication that had earned her dual PhDs by twenty-four. The thought of her studying technique, probably taking notes in that careful handwriting, made my cock throb in her grip.
"Anya," I managed, though my voice came out wrecked already. "Baby, you don't have to—"
"I want to," she interrupted, then demonstrated exactly how much by taking me deep enough that I felt the back of her throat. The sensation shot through me like lightning, and my hips bucked involuntarily.
She pulled back, coughing slightly, but her eyes were bright with determination rather than discomfort. "The forums said that would happen at first. But they also said this—"
Her tongue did something completely unprecedented to the sensitive spot just below the head, a swirling pressure that made my thighs shake. My hand found her hair without conscious thought, not gripping or guiding, just needing that connection while she systematically destroyed my control.
"Fuck," I groaned as she alternated between deep, slow pulls and that devastating tongue technique. "Where did you—how are you—"
"Reddit," she said matter-of-factly, pulling back to catch her breath while her hand maintained steady strokes. "There's a whole community dedicated to advanced techniques. Very supportive. Lots of diagrams."
The idea of my anxious, brilliant wife consulting internet strangers about how to give better blowjobs should have been funny. Instead, it was possibly the most erotic thing I'd ever encountered. She'd researched this for me. Studied and prepared because she wanted to make me feel good.
"You're perfect," I told her, threading my fingers through her hair with trembling hands. "So fucking perfect. Such a good girl for Daddy."
The praise made her hum with pleasure, and the vibration around my cock nearly undid me. She was learning what I liked in real-time, cataloging responses, adjusting technique based on my reactions. When her free hand found my balls, rolling them with gentle pressure while her mouth worked my cock, I knew I wouldn't last much longer.
"Anya," I warned, my voice breaking. "I'm close. Baby, I'm so fucking close—"
She responded by taking me deeper, her eyes locked on mine with an intensity that said she wanted this, wanted to tasteme, wanted to swallow everything I had to give. The image of her—my innocent Little who needed stuffed animals to sleep—eagerly sucking my cock with scholarly precision and genuine enthusiasm was going to be burned into my brain forever.
I could feel the orgasm building at the base of my spine, that electric tension that preceded the point of no return. My fingers tightened in her hair, not pulling but holding on while she worked me toward completion with devastating efficiency. Just a few more seconds, just a little more of that perfect pressure, and I'd—
The phone exploded into noise.
Not the normal ringtone I used for business calls or the softer one for family. The emergency tone. Three short, violent bursts that meant crisis, immediate response required, someone's life in active danger.
My body didn't give a fuck about the phone. Every cell screamed to ignore it, to come in Anya's talented mouth, to finish what she'd started with such dedication. But my brain—the part that had kept me alive through twenty years of bratva violence—knew that ringtone meant catastrophe.
"Don't stop," I groaned even as my hand was already reaching for the nightstand. "Please, baby, just a few more seconds—"
But Anya had already pulled back, my cock slipping from her mouth with an obscene sound. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, concern replacing arousal in her expression. The moment shattered like dropped crystal, pleasure evaporating into the tropical air while the phone continued its violent demand for attention.
"You can answer it," she said softly, already reaching for the sheet to cover herself.
I wanted to throw the phone through the window. Wanted to pull her back down, finish what we'd started, make her swallow my cum while the world burned outside our villa. But she wasright. That tone meant family in danger. Brothers who might be bleeding. Business that might be collapsing.
