Page 49 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
I leaned in, reached for her spaghetti strap, and slid it off her left shoulder, exposing the curve of her breast.
Beautiful.
I pinched her nipple with one hand while simultaneously working on her pussy. Each flick of my finger made her hips jerk, her thighs trembling beneath my touch.
“Look at you,” I whispered in her face, staring deeply into her eyes. “Falling apart on my fingers.” My voice was low and roughened by control; my breathing quickened.
“I hate you,” she whispered, her hand snapping out to grip my shoulder for support. “I hate that you can do this to me.” Her expression darkened with desire, and a throaty moan escaped her lips.
My lips curled into a mischievous grin. “You’re mine.”
Her moans spilled freely, low and husky—those little guttural cries rising higher as I worked her open. “I’m not…I’m not—fuck, yes!”
My smirk grew more crooked by the second as I watched her unravel before me. The more she tried to stiffen her moan, to hold them back in, the louder they tore out of her, raw and unrestrained.
I didn’t stop, even when my fingers were soaked with her wetness. No. I dug deeper, each thrust wringing short, desperate gasps out of her until she whimpered my name between ragged breaths.
“Lev—Oh, Lev….”
The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, mixing with the slick rhythm of my fingers moving inside her.
Pleased by her reaction, I quickened my pace, reveling in the sweet sound of her moans drenched in hunger and need.
“Yes, right there,” she cried out, her voice laced with desperation. “Don’t stop—don’t you fuckin’ stop!”
She likes the speed and the spot. Alright.
Her wish was my command, and so I did as she wanted—I worked on her G-spot, maintaining the same rhythm. I watched her eyes roll backward, her legs trembling beneath her as though her dam was about to explode.
She gripped the edge of the table more tightly as I squeezed her exposed breast. “Damn you, Lev.” Her voice quivered under the weight of the pleasure coursing through her blood.
“Your body’s begging, yet you’re still acting all tough.” I snickered, flicking my fingers more effectively. “I know you wanna come. So just come already and stop torturing yourself.”
“No.” She shook her head, her face a mask of pleasure.
I leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Your cunt’s even more honest than you; it’s begging you to let go.” I looked into her eyes again. “Don’t be shy, do it. Come for me.”
She shook like a leaf, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, even as her juice dripped all over my hand.
“Do it,” I urged her, my voice deep and husky. “No one else will ever make you come like this, so quit fighting it.”
Her face burned, shame prickling her skin as her lips parted in a silent scream. Veins lined her forehead, and her eyes squeezed shut to hide her humiliation. She locked her jaw, trying so hard to choke back her moans, but they tore out anyway—raw and needy.
“God, I’m gonna—I’m gonna….” Her voice trailed off, weak and vulnerable.
“Yes. Do it. Do it.” I drove my fingers deeper and faster, anticipating her arrival. “Stop fighting me, Ravyn. Do it—you know you want to.”
“Fuck! I can’t hold it!” she cried out, her cunt clutching around my fingers.
Then came the long-anticipated release.
“Ohh, fuck, I’m coming!” she announced, her dam shattering in an instant.
I didn’t stop, even as her body gave way with a sharp cry. Liquid spilled in waves, spraying against my hand in a current so fierce it startled her.
She shuddered hard, gasping my name with a cracked voice. I stared at her with a triumphant look in my eyes, my gaze dark and unwavering. Her eyes bore into mine, her breath hitched in her throat, and her chest heaved rapidly.
A mix of humiliation and relief marked her gaze, her expression twisted with desire. I lifted my fingers, wet from her, and she parted her lips as I inserted two into her mouth. She maintained eye contact, licking the remnants of her juice off my fingers.
