Page 93 of Forced to Marry the Russian Bratva

“Jesus, Gela,” I hiss, gripping her hips to hold her still for a moment.

I pull back and thrust into her, setting a steady rhythm that has her gasping with each stroke. Her hands find my shoulders, nails digging in through my shirt.

When she begs me to go harder, I pick up the pace.

She leans forward to whisper in my ear, her breath hot against my skin. “Look at us, fucking while all of Boston watches.”

I glance at the windows surrounding us, the city laid out before us like an audience.

“You're trouble, you know that?” I growl, nipping at her earlobe, feeling so damn high I could die.

She laughs, but the laugh turns into a sexy little moan when I change the angle and hit the back of her walls.

Suddenly, it's not enough for me. I need more of her, all of her. I pull out, ignoring her whine of protest.

“Bend over,” I ask as I dig my hands on her hips, my voice rough with need.

Her eyes widen with pleasure, and she turns around, bending forward across the desk with her ass in the air. I run myhands over the curve of it, appreciating the view for a moment before positioning myself behind her.

In one move, I'm inside her again, deeper than before, in this new position. She cries out, and her forehead drops against the desk.

I grip her hips with one hand, and tangle the other through her hair, pulling just enough to make her arch her back. The sight of her like this, spread out on her desk, and taking me so perfectly, gets me on the edge of spilling over.

I feel the pleasure building in the base of my spine, ready to erupt.

“God, Valentin,” she moans. “Just like that. Don't stop.”

I pound into her, fucking her harder. She grips the edge and plants her cheek to the desk, her eyes closed like she’s in that sweet spot between pleasure and pain.

And then, I watch as Gela Jones slides a hand down her side to reach for her clit.

I begin to buck harder.

I feel her tighten around me as she circles her clit, and I know she's close from how her legs begin to tremble. I am too, the pressure overflowing like a dam’s been let loose.

“Oh my god, Valentin,” she mewls in that voice I know no one else has ever heard. Soft, coy, vixen.

“Come for me, Gela,” I hiss, and I slam into her more erratically, slowly losing control as I chase my own release.

Her body tenses and she cries out, really fucking loud, just before she shudders as she cums. Her muscles squeeze me so tight, I near damn see stars.

It's enough to push me over the edge, and I follow her, emptying myself inside her with a groan.

For a moment, we just stay like that, panting, sweaty, still as one. Then I carefully pull out and help her stand, turning her to face me. Her hair is a mess, her skirt is bunched around her waist, and she's never looked more beautiful.

“Well.” She gives me a slow, lazy smile, “I think we've properly inaugurated the office.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my heart so full it might burst. “Think we might make a habit of it?”

She smiles, soft and sweet. “I love you, Valentin Yuri, but that’s a hell no. Now, get out of my office.”

*****

THE END