Page 63 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
He made me feel so good that I spoke in unknown tongues—or more accurately…gibberish. Yet, he didn’t stop; he kept eating and eating.
When he was satisfied, he lifted his head, his mouth covered in my juice. We locked eyes, mine burning with desire, my chest heaving with anticipation. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and leaned in to claim my lips.
The kiss was hot and fervent, his palms squeezing my breasts over the fabric of my dress. I slid down the thin straps, just enough to expose my gentle swells. He fondled them with both hands.
I could taste the remnants of my juice on his tongue, and it fanned the flames burning within me. He devoured my lips without mercy, then gently choked my neck.
My hand reached down, fingers wrapping around his length. And with one fluid motion, I inserted his hard cock inside me.
“Oh, it’s so big,” I whispered, breaking the kiss.
His cock stretched me out, each thrust leaving me undone. My eyes widened as he rammed me hard and fast, his grip around my neck tightening ever so slightly. My breasts were bouncing back and forth with each relentless stroke.
He looked right into my eyes as he destroyed my pussy without mercy. Occasionally, he’d smack my face—not too hard—but enough to make me feel naughty.
“Fuck me harder, Daddy,” I moaned, straining under the weight of his grip around my neck.
I couldn’t breathe, could barely move beneath him. But I loved the feeling of surrendering all to him—it was ecstatic. I’dgiven him total control of my body, mind, and soul, and at that moment, nothing felt better than that.
His hips ground against mine with vigorous thrust, his cock hitting my G-spot over and over again. My eyes were wide with pleasure, fingers clutching the sheets for support.
“Yes, yes, yes….” I moaned, my voice barely above a whisper. “You fuck me so well, Daddy.”
I hated myself for giving him everything—losing control and saying all the things I was thinking. But screw the consequences; it was worth it. And I couldn’t hold the words back anyway.
“You like it?” he asked, his voice cracking from how fast he was moving.
I nodded, biting my lower lip.
“Say it,” he commanded me. “I wanna hear you say it.”
“I love it, Daddy.”
He let go of my neck and raised my right leg in the air, his eyes still locked on mine. Lev quickened his pace, hitting me faster and harder, each thrust more powerful than the last.
I cried out in pleasure, but he sealed my lips with a kiss I couldn’t resist. I moaned into his mouth as we exchanged warm breaths, while he kept a steady rhythm.
My arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer for a deeper connection. I couldn’t get enough of him—just wanted him and more.
“Go harder, Daddy. Harder,” I urged him, my voice laced with urgency and desperation. “Oh, yes, yes, yes….”
He drilled my pussy with relentless strokes, his cock traveling deep into my stomach. My fingers dug into his shoulders in a massaging motion as I held his gaze. His face was masked with sheer pleasure, his muscles tightening, revealing the veins underneath.
The sight was breathtaking, and my lips parted with no sound. I felt my eyes rolling backward, my legs shaking in the air as jolts of electricity surged through my blood.
“You’ve been a really bad girl tonight,” he said, sweat dampening his forehead as he drove deeper and deeper inside.
The intensity of his strokes almost felt like he was punishing me. I didn’t feel used—didn’t hate it. Not at all. Rather, I loved it. As long as he was satisfied, I was too.
My holes were wet for him, and I felt like his dirty little slut. At that moment, I referred to myself as his whore—his plaything. However, despite the way he possessed every inch of my body, Lev never called me any of those names.
Dirty little whore. Slut.
Those words never came out of his mouth, and that was a sign of a man who respected his woman’s body.
“I’ll cum when you say so,” he said, his voice deep and husky, as if seeking my permission.
I nodded, my eyes boring into his.
