Page 38 of Sexting My Bratva Boss

Yes, yes, yes.

He’s so rough that pleasure and pain blend together until I’m practically screaming under him, my hips ramming back into his. His cock stretches me, the wet sound of every thrust bringing me closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” he bites out, pushing me down between the shoulder blades and pinning me to the bed.

He grunts with each thrust, and as I recognize the quickening pace that means he’s going to come, I find my own orgasm.

At the thought of him spilling into me. At the thought of being bred by him, fucked until I’m pregnant, and then probably fucked more judging by just how voracious he is.

As he comes he moans in Russian, words I don’t recognize and can’t even grasp with my hazy mind. My body jerks forward with each slow thrust, reveling in the feel of his hand holding my ass down as he fucks into me.

Eventually Konstantin pulls out. I can’t help the whimper I let out, wanting to feel his weight on top of me, his huge cock softening inside me.

“What did I tell you,” he says gruffly. “Get on the bed.”

Somehow, I manage to drag myself onto the king-sized bed and turn over, knees bent as I stare at the ceiling. Konstantin moves around outside of my field of vision, then comes back with a pillow. He uses it to prop up my hips.

Our eyes meet.

A dribble of cum spreads down from my pussy. He grins a slow, devilish grin, silver hair glinting in the city lights outside. Using his fingers, he gathers the cum and stuffs it back into my pussy roughly. My body tries to clench, useless with the aftershocks of the orgasm.

“Good girl. I want you to stay like that until I tell you that you can go.”

I nod, sighing contentedly. Konstantin comes back with a warm rag and lays it between my legs but doesn’t clean me up.

Not yet.

I can hear him dressing, and still mindless with satisfaction, I blurt out, “I’m surprised you sent a car for me right in front of the Spire. Everyone noticed.”

His laugh is low, dark.

“You think I don’t want them to know?”

His words make me freeze.

“You… you’re okay with everyone finding out? That I’m yours?”

I prop myself up on my elbows, trying to find him in the dim light. His large shoulders and torso are backlit by the streetlamps. “You want them to know that we’re… doing this?”

I don’t say,That you send a car for me after work to fuck me senseless.I don’t say,That you’re breeding me to carry your child, and I like it so much I’m wet all day at my chair, waiting for you to come get me.

He turns, eyes serious and cold.

“They would find out one way or another, Audrey. And if they know, you can’t run, can you? Because either they’d catch you, or I would. Which, do you imagine, is worse?”

The look in his eyes… it’s what I imagine many men have seen in their last moments. He’s like a predator, devoid of any emotion, and I feel like a piece of meat laid out on his bed.

“Olena Belov showed up at the house.”

Turning away from me, he says only, “I know.”

Tears gather at the corner of my eyes. I dash them away quickly, not wanting to see how this upsets me; that he doesn’t care that his own associates are violating any privacy I might have, showing up to question me about what Konstantin wants with me.

What am I supposed to say to them?

It feels ridiculous to say that he wants just that:me.

That for some reason, he thinks I’m good enough to bear his heir.