Page 13 of Sexting the Bratva Boss (Text to Touch)

Eva

The car went dead silent. Something was definitely off with Ruslan - like he was holding back something that scared the hell out of me.

"Ruslan, what's going on? You've been weird ever since you got in."

"Nothing," he muttered.

"So where exactly are we headed?" My voice came out shakier than I wanted.

"My place."

My place? Since when did he just randomly take me to his house? What was he up to?

His voice had this low, flat tone that made my skin crawl.

I just stared out the window, not saying anything. The car kept picking up speed. Then we pulled up to this massive, fancy villa.

"Get out."

The whole vibe was so off that I couldn't even focus on how gorgeous the gardens were. I kept my head down and just followed him to the front door.

Inside, he used his fingerprint to unlock the living room and then just... stood there. Staring at me. Obviously waiting for me to go in first. The second I stepped through the doorway, he slammed it shut behind me, grabbed me around the waist, and shoved me face against the wall.

"Ruslan!" I exclaimed, and just as I was about to turn around, his body was already pressed tightly against me.

He hugged me from behind, pinning me down with my back to him and my face facing the wall.

I could feel his erect penis, fully aroused, pressing hard against my lower back, an unbearable sensation.

"Enjoy your little chat with that guy?"His voice was a dark whisper against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Guy?"I blinked, confused—then it hit me.Pamit?The actor I'd just filmed with today?

"Pamit's just a coworker!"I snapped, indignant."We were going over scenes!"

"Coworker?"He let out a low, mocking laugh, one hand hiking up my skirt while the other dragged rough fingertips along my inner thigh, making me jolt."Since when do 'coworkers' stand that close? Laugh like that?"

Smack.

The sharp crack of his palm against my ass sent a burning sting radiating across my skin. My breath caught—humiliation and shock flooding me at once.

He'dspankedme! Like some naughty kid caught misbehaving.

"Answer me, Eva."No warmth, no patience. Just ice-cold demand.

"I—we—"I stammered, squirming. My cheeks were definitely flushed now, the lace of my underwear pressing into tender flesh with every slight shift.

Smack! Another blow, harder than before, but beyond the pain, an indescribable pleasure emerged, and a warm current surged through my lower abdomen.

"It seems you don't want to answer." He pulled my panties down, and the cold air instantly touched my most private parts. I instinctively tried to close my legs, but his knee pressed in forcefully, pushing them further apart.

"Then use your body to show me who you truly belong to."

He slipped his hand down there. "It's already wet, bad girl. It seems you're enjoying my punishment."

I felt the cold, unyielding wall slam against my front as he pushed me hard, my breath catching in a muffled gasp.

My hair spilled over my shoulders, and my legs trembled beneath me, struggling to find balance under his intensity.

I felt the hard press of his arousal against my ass, and my body betrayed me with a rush of heat, a pulse of need that made my knees weak.

His lips brushed my ear, his voice a dark hiss. "You love this, don't you, baby? You love it when I punish you."

Before I could process his words, he plunged two fingers inside me, and I gasped, my back arching as my body welcomed the intrusion. My walls clenched around him, desperate, as he curled his fingers to hit that spot that made my legs buckle. "Fuck!" I cried, unable to hold back.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice dark and possessive. "Say it. Say you're mine."

I hesitated, trembling under the relentless rhythm of his fingers, each thrust a punishment and a promise. "I-I'm yours," I choked out, barely a whisper. But it wasn't enough for him. It never was.

He pulled his fingers out, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back until I was forced to meet his gaze. "Say it like you mean it," he growled, his eyes burning with intensity. My heart raced, fear and desire twisting together as I stared into his dark, commanding eyes. "Say it!"

"I'm yours!" I screamed, my voice raw, desperate. "I'm yours, Ruslan!"

The words seemed to ignite something in him.

He released my hair, and I heard the clink of his belt unbuckling, the sound of leather sliding through loops sending a thrill through me.

He pushed me forward, my chest pressing against the cold wall as he spread my legs wider.

"You're going to take every inch of me," he warned, his voice thick with lust. "And you're going to thank me for it. "

I felt him at my entrance, the tip of him brushing against my soaked folds, and my body tensed in anticipation.

There was no warning, no gentleness—he slammed into me with one brutal thrust, filling me completely.

A cry tore from my throat, and I bit my finger as he stretched me, claimed me.

"Fuck," he groaned, his chest pressing against my back, his voice raw.

"You feel so fucking good, Eva. So tight, so fucking perfect for me. "

He moved with relentless force, each thrust deep and punishing, his hips slamming into me, the sound of skin against skin filling the air.

My body rocked with every movement, my ass jiggling, my senses overwhelmed.

His hand found my throat, squeezing just enough to make my breath catch, his whisper hot against my ear. "You're mine. All mine."

He began to thrust harder and harder inside me.

"Tell me, Eva," he lashed out at me mercilessly, nibbling at my earlobe. "Do you prefer talking to him, or do you prefer me fucking you like this?"

"I—" Something flashed through my mind, but I couldn't grasp it. The thrilling, grinding pleasure forced me to admit, "I like you-fucking me."

"Good girl, маленькая кошка." His movements became more demanding, each one precisely rubbing against the most sensitive spot inside me.

"No, please! Stop! Too intense!"

"Stop?" He chuckled, then suddenly increased his speed, thrusting at a pace that threatened to tear me apart.

I could no longer think, my mind blank, dominated by the instincts of pleasure. My breathing quickened, and my body began to tremble violently.

"Move in with me," Ruslan commanded.

"I—" I was about to object when he suddenly stopped. That utter emptiness, neither in nor out, was more unbearable than any torture .

"Ruslan!" I cried, pressing closer to him, wanting him to give me the pleasure.

"Do you want it?" His voice was filled with deadly allure.

I nodded.

"Then promise me and move in."

He wasn't even going to give me a choice.

"Okay."

The moment I agreed, Ruslan finally quit torturing me and, with the most intense thrusts, brought me to orgasm.

He grunted, then released deep inside me. My body slid limply, and Ruslan caught me, lifting me up. In Ruslan's arms, watching his sated expression, my mind finally found a space to think.

In an instant, everything connected. Ruslan's strange reaction on the set, his suppressed silence in the car, his questioning, punishing, and possessive nature during sex. Was he jealous?

This realization filled me with both shock and joy.

The Morning After,I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a freight train. Every muscle in my body ached from last night's activities.

The memories came flooding back in waves, making my cheeks burn hot. Ruslan's jealousy, his possessiveness, the way he'd completely lost control when he saw me with my co-star—it had all been so intensely real. My heart fluttered just thinking about it.

But the fact that he'd brought me to his place for the first time, then disappeared before I even woke up? That stung a little. What could be so damn important that he had to bolt first thing in the morning?

I pushed down the disappointment and forced myself to sit up, only to realize I was wearing an oversized silk shirt that hit about mid-thigh. His shirt. It still smelled like him—that intoxicating mix of expensive cologne and something uniquely masculine.

As soon as I got out of bed, the smell of food hit me. Something was definitely cooking, and it smelled incredible.

I followed my nose out of the bedroom, padding barefoot across the cool floors. In the massive open kitchen, I stopped dead in my tracks.

There was Ruslan, standing at the stove in nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His broad back was on full display, every muscle defined, along with the intricate tattoos that covered his skin like a work of art.

He was focused on frying bacon and eggs, but his movements looked awkward and stiff—like he was way out of his element.

I leaned against the doorframe, just watching him. This scene was so surreal I almost wondered if I was still dreaming. This Ruslan was nothing like the cold, ruthless man who could break someone's hands without blinking.

"Morning," I said, walking closer. "Need any help?"

"Morning." He didn't turn around, trying unsuccessfully to flip an egg with his spatula. The fragile yolk burst with a wet splat.

I watched his shoulders tense immediately, his jaw clenching in frustration. I couldn't help but laugh. This was the first time I'd ever seen this powerful man look genuinely defeated—and it was over a fucking egg.

He finally turned to look at me, those intense blue eyes flashing with annoyance. "Something funny?"

"No," I tried to stifle my grin, "it's just... seeing that the great Mr. Yvannov has something he's not good at makes you seem more human, I guess."

My words seemed to please him because his expression softened slightly. He turned back and scraped the ruined egg to one side, cracking a fresh one into the pan. This time, the oil was too hot, and it spit and sizzled aggressively, droplets of burning oil jumping out to land on his hand.

"Careful!" I instinctively grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "You'll burn yourself."