Page 111 of Bratva Bride

“Not God,kotenok.”Relentless and unforgiving, he hammered into me over and over, not giving me an ounce of relief. He licked up my spine. “I’m the fucking devil.” His movements turned feral. Ferocious. Chaotic.

I moaned, relishing in the intensity of every stroke, in the feel of his cock completely filling me.

“Fuck,” he snarled and latched onto my shoulder, biting hard enough to leave a bruise as he rutted like a man consumed.

His cock was so hard, so thick, it hurt.

Pain and pleasure gripped me hard, working together to drive me higher and higher until I felt like I could touch the sky.

My core tightened and I came, shaking violently.

I screamed.

My pussy pulsed.

Stars exploded behind my eyes.

Arturo was right there with me. He roared, the sound loud and deafening, like a wild animal in the jungle. His grip on me tightened, nails digging deep into my skin as his hip’s pistoned sporadically while he emptied himself inside me. His cum overflowed, running down my thighs.

“Fucking hell,” he rasped, collapsing on top of me.

My breath whooshed out of me and I wheezed, trying to elbow him off me. “Arturo, can’t…breathe.”

He groaned, and finally rolled off of me, panting with exertion.

“I’m fucking dead,” I moaned, flipping over onto my back.

Chuckling, Arturo turned onto his side and walked his fingers through my breasts, down my stomach to my pussy.

Whimpering, I shook my head. “Arturo, no. I can’t go again.”

“I’ll give you two minutes,” he whispered, slipping his fingers into my entrance. “And then I’ll have you again.”

Despite my languid body, pleasure shot through me and I groaned, spreading my legs wide. “Your cock is going to kill me one day,” I panted.

He chuckled and climbed back on top of me. “And what a way to go that would be.”

* * *

“Do you seriously need all those shoes?” Lukyan asked from his position on my bed, feet crossed at the ankles and hands behind his head.

I was in the middle of packing up my things for the move to New York. It had been a week since I was kidnapped by Nero and I was still in Las Vegas, much to Arturo’s dismay. The first few days were hectic. Chaotic. My father tried all his usual torture techniques but nothing worked on the Los Zetas we had captured, and they died with their secrets untold.

We still didn’t know why they were taking orders from Nero. It was very unusual for a Mexican cartel to take orders from the Italian Mafia. It wasn’t like the alliance between the Bratva and the Cosa Nostra. The Zetas were literally following Nero’s every command like little bitches and we didn’t understand why.

But no matter how much my father tortured them, inflicting more pain than anyone could bear, they didn’t talk. Not even when Arturo cut off their dicks and let them bleed out. They stayed loyal to the very end, to whatever agenda they had.

I’ll admit, the entire thing was pissing me off. The not knowing. Especially when it felt like the answer was right under my nose.

“I mean shit, how many pairs of shoes does one chick need?” Lukyan reached over and grabbed a bouncy ball from the side table and started throwing it up in the air. Throwing and catching, throwing and catching. “It’s ridiculous.”

“You seem awfully concerned about my shoes, Lukyan. Do you want to borrow some to prance around in?”

He scowled and threw the bouncy ball at me. I dodged it. “Dude, three times that happened. And I was nine. Stop bringing it up all the time.”

Tatiana burst out in laughter, her eyes glued to the full length mirror as she held one of my dresses to her body. “Oh my god, I remember the first time you told me that. I don’t think I stopped laughing for a week.”

Lukyan turned beet red. “Stop mentioning it!”

---