Page 103 of Immaculate Corruption (Romanoff Bratva)

With a clench in his jaw, Dima seizes each side of my shirt in one hand and rips it wide open. Buttons go flying across the room.

Beneath the blouse, I’m wearing a white lacy bra that barely covers my nipples. Dima sits up and buries his face between my breasts.

“Mr. Romanoff,” I sigh, “I’m worried you are losing focus. Are you still with me or are you lost in a fantasy?”

“I’m with you,” he purrs. Goosebumps are spreading across my chest as he licks and sucks. “I’m right here with you.”

“Good. Because the details of this case are still bound up tight, but I would like them to be released as soon as possible.”

There’s a moment’s hesitation before Dima reaches around and unhooks my bra. He drags the straps down my arms painfully slowly. When the material is gone and my breasts are free, he drinks in the sight of me on top of him like I’m a work of fucking art.

Then he palms my breast, leans forward, and flicks his tongue over my pebbled nipple.

“I would love to handle the details for you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against my sensitive skin. “I’ll go over them as many times as necessary until you’re fully satisfied.”

I spread my knees further apart, bringing our bodies closer, and roll myself against him. Dima tips his head back and sighs.

“I am not easily satisfied, Mr. Romanoff. But I would love to watch you try.”

He smirks. “As you wish.”

He grabs me by the waist and rolls me over so I’m on my back and he is laying over me. Then he finds the zipper at the side of my skirt and slides it down before peeling the skirt down my legs.

My panties are the same delicate lace as the bra. Dima runs his fingers over the material. Shivers dance up my spine.

Then, in one swift tug, he tears them away.

The material rips and falls in tattered shreds to the floor. Before I can complain about the loss, Dima hooks my knees over his shoulders and lowers his face to my center.

He starts to devour me. All I can do is groan.

“Look at me,” he orders. “Watch me lick you until you scream.”

His head bobs between my legs, his lips sucking at my clit, wet with my juices. I curl my fingers in his hair and grind my body against his face.

I lift my hips as he starts to finger fuck me. That plus his tongue is short-circuiting my brain and my body at the same time. I feel like I’m melting and burning simultaneously.

I grab a fistful of his hair and lower his face back down. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Dima adds two more fingers and continues devastating me with his tongue.

“Oh my God, yes!” I cry out. “Please. Please.”

He works faster and my body climaxes hard, clenching his finger, drenching him in a wave of pleasure.

When Dima pulls away from me and unhooks my knees from his shoulders, my body is too limp to react. I feel like an old rag doll, used and spent.

“I want to be inside of you.” His voice is deep and velvety. “Now.”

He presses a hand into my chest and lays me down on my back. Then, in one gentle slide, he’s inside of me.

Like always, it’s a stretch to accommodate him. But fuck, it feels so good. A moan escapes my lips once we’re completely connected. I’ve never felt so full.

“Harder. Touch me,” I beg. “Make me come.”

At those magic words—the words that started all this shit in the first place—a low growl rumbles through Dima’s chest.

He flips me on top of him, then lifts me effortlessly and spears me with one upward lunge of his hips. He sucks and kisses and bites my skin while he pounds into me.

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