Page 30 of Bratva's Secret Girl

My back is flat on the table, and his chest is on mine, my breasts and our shirts squished between us, but his weight is only partly on me. I want him to crush me, skin to skin. Own my body as he does my heart and soul.

He smashed everything and is standing in the ruins fucking me like I’m the only thing that matters. It’s heady. This feeling of being his world is a high I didn’t realise I craved.

The feel of his clothing against my bare thighs is unbearably erotic, emphasising his need for me.

I try to get him closer, but his fingers on my clit are distracting, and I know he’s restraining himself.

Meaning to pull him into me harder, I raise my knees, and he slides deeper, the tip of his cock slamming into my cervix and knocking the breath from my chest, as though he’s so big he’s all the way up to my lungs. His eyelids fall closed for a second, and he stills, mouth open.

But despite my heels finding his buttocks to try to make him go faster, he’s stronger than me, and keeps up a relentless, patient pace that isn’t the wildness I need to push me over the edge.

“Harder,” I demand. “Take me like you mean it, Maxim. I love you. Take me like you will when I’m yourwife.”

He makes a hoarse, pained noise from the back of his throat, and smashes his lips to mine in a punishing kiss that is feral and unhinged.

Yes. Yes.

He pulls his mouth from mine and stares at me. “I will do whatever you want, Hayley. Even lose control of myself.”

My protest when he grabs my leg and peels it away from him, withdrawing with a wet pop is dismay and disappointment, until he levels that dangerous look at me.

“Don’t move,” he orders harshly, and strides over to the living area—somehow his trousers are so perfectly fitted that they don’t fall down, as though gravity obeys him—and grabs a couple of cushions.

Then before I understand what’s happening, he’s lifted and turned me so I’m on the cushions, my legs dangling and my bottom in the air. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you right now.”

My breasts are plastered to the shiny wood of the table, the cotton of his shirt giving the perfect amount of friction to my nipples, and with my feet not on the floor I feel deliciously helpless.

“Your arse is so pretty like this,” he murmurs, running his big, rough hand over one cheek then the other. “And your cunt…”

He groans as his fingers dip into my folds. I crane my neck to see him.

And ohhhh.

He’s sucking two fingers, his tongue lapping obscenely and his grey eyes are intent on my face. “This is the only time you’ll bleed for me, and I intend to enjoy it.”

A crazy spark of arousal flames in my tummy.

“Now.” He takes his hand to my pussy again and slides his fingers in as easily as though I were made for him.

I think I might have been.

“Ready for me to fuck and breed you?” The expression on his face is dark and commanding. It’s not a question.

“Yes.” The answer will always be yes. His brutal cock sticking up out of his refined clothing, and the tattoos on his hands, are an exquisite contradiction. He’s experienced and kind, but he’s also kinky and harsh.

And when he takes his cock in his hand and pulls my pussy open with a palm over the cheek of my bottom, I whine with the sheer need to be filled by him again.

The blunt tip of him rests for a second where I’m soaking wet and soft, then he pushes into me.

The pinch of pain comes again, but it’s different this time. Shorter. And instead of hurting, his piercings rub against a sensitive ridge on my inner walls, and my gasp is only pleasure.

And oh, that’s… Yes. It hits a spot inside me that was made for him.

I scrabble at the table, trying to grip something, anything as he thrusts again. Not to escape, but to tether myself to reality as my eyes roll back in my head and a high-pitched cry is torn from my throat.

“I know,” Maxim comforts me. “You’re gripping me so tight, malishka. You’re amazing.”

His hips flex, withdrawing a short distance then thrusting back harder. As he pushes right to the hilt, so his balls slap against my clit, it’s a shower of white sparks of pleasure for me, and given how fierce he looks when he opens his eyes again, and digs his fingers into my bottom, I think it is for him too.