Page 13 of Trapped by the Bratva (The Valkov Bratva #5)

HANNAH

D arling. Half the time he said it, it sounded like he was mocking me. Like a reminder that I was “good” and he was “bad”.

Right now, I didn’t care what he called me. Not as long as he looked at me like I was the present he’d been waiting for, the reward he tried to talk himself out of. Molten desire showed in his eyes. He gazed at me with such liquid need that I grew heady and dizzy on the sensation of this power.

And intimacy.

I widened my mouth to accept his bulbous head. Like this?

“Fuck.” He grunted. His abs flexed as I slid further down. “Just like that,” he growled.

There he went again, seeming to read my mind.

If he could, he’d realize how much this was turning me on.

How much I wanted him to show me how to pleasure him like he had me.

How desperately I hoped to satisfy him and make him happy.

Me. Not some other woman. I wanted to be the one to make him groan and come. No one else.

I grew bolder, sliding down further. Keeping my tongue on his smooth but hard length, I explored. I traced the bumpy veins. I slipped over the slickness of my saliva and his precum, so salty and tangy, a taste unlike anything I’d ever sampled before.

He was so thick, stretching my lips. So hot and pulsing. With each inch that I bobbed down further, I accepted him into my throat and pulled my cheeks in to increase the pressure.

“Fuck, Hannah. Fuck .” His gritty growl stoked my arousal.

I shoved the stool back, giving up on sitting. Kneeling in front of him gave me better access. With each slick up-and-down bob, I fell deeper into the act, wanting to savor it all. This power of pleasuring him. The thrill of exploring his dick and learning how to push him closer to coming.

I moved my hand from the root of his dick, giving myself more room to push my lips all the way down. When I came back up, panting for air, I looked at the strained grimace on his face. “Like that?” I teased.

“Yeah,” he said, pushing me back down.

I was eager to suck him in, and he seemed to intuit how greedy I was to have him in my mouth.

I couldn’t guess how we were on the same page like this, how he could just know that it made me feel so good to seduce him.

I was a people pleaser in general, and I cherished feeling needed and wanted.

Everyone did. But giving Dmitri head like this invoked so much intimacy.

I felt closer to him. Despite how easy it was for us to butt heads and argue, we made perfect sense and just fit .

His fingers tightened on my head, and soon enough, he guided me up and down his cock. “Open wider,” he instructed.

I did. Under his command and unspoken orders, I let him fuck my mouth.

It was rough. He didn’t slow down and didn’t ease up. Forcing me to take his big dick felt too good to stop, though. My eyes watered. My nostrils flared as I struggled to breathe through it all. And still, I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t think of retreating when it felt so filthily good with him.

I hummed, so caught up in the warmth of arousal coursing through me. Pleasing him turned me on, so when he jammed my head back, I gaped at him in surprise. His fingers tightened on my hair with his grip to pull me off, but before I could ask why he stopped, I was lifted up onto the bed.

He turned, wincing slightly after the way he’d picked me up.

“Don’t hurt yourself?—”

He slammed his mouth on mine, silencing me.

It’d been weeks since he'd kissed me last. It’d been too damn long, and I’d thought about it every day and night.

The feel of his hungry lips on mine excited me, and I gave up on warning him not to hurt himself.

He wouldn’t listen, anyway. I knew that.

Instead, I surrendered and opened up to his tongue.

I slid my hand up along his jaw until I could loop my arm around his neck.

I was here to be his therapy nurse, not to lie in his bed and make out after sucking on his dick. And certainly not to feel him slip his hand under my shorts and panties, stroking over my pussy.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he growled as he parted for air.

I nodded, reaching up to kiss him again. Now that he’d snapped and given in to the desire and sexual tension simmering between us, I didn’t want to stop.

He rolled over me as he shoved my clothes down. Wiggling to help him, I slid beneath him all the way. He lost his shorts too, and even though I wanted to shed my shirt and bra to be flush, skin to skin from head to toe, it seemed that he’d lost all his patience.

His knee shoved between mine in a wordless ask for me to part my legs. I did, and the second I opened up to him, he lowered further. Braced on his forearms that bracketed my head, he pushed his cock to my wet entrance.

The first nudge of the wide head taunted me to spread my legs open wider. And that was all the invitation he needed. He wasn’t asking for a welcome. He wasn’t waiting for my verbal consent. I would’ve given it if he slowed down to ask.

In a long, steady drive in, he slowly stuffed me with his slick cock. I tensed, bracing for the burn of the stretch, but he kissed me hard and broke me out of the instinct to stiffen.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t tense up.”

He’d stopped halfway, and I grimaced at the tight fit. I was slick. I was ready. But it was still my first time. And he was huge.

“Breathe, Darling.” With that endearment, I should’ve softened up and swooned. He said it in that slightly mocking tone, though. His voice was still so thick with command and unforgiving urgency.

I nodded, wincing as I waited for him to fill me all the way.

“Breathe,” he ordered again, “and take my dick like a good girl, Hannah.”

As he covered my lips again, kissing harder, he inched the rest of the way in. His hips ground against mine, ensuring he couldn’t go any deeper, and that rub toward my clit added the right amount of friction that I couldn’t ignore.

I cried out, overwhelmed. His thickness stretching me. His weight bearing down on me. His hips forcing my legs out in such a position I’d never attempted before.

He pulled out slowly and slid right back in, faster and harder. “You be my good girl,” he growled as he drove in over and over.

I watched him, mesmerized by the feral look of utter need as he scowled down at me. It was a look of focus, of complete concentration, but more than that, an expression of rapture and desire so potent it consumed him.

My nerves felt lit on fire as he thrust into me roughly.

I sensed him everywhere, as though his act of taking my virginity and fucking me into oblivion was a full-body experience.

Throbbing in my pussy. Aching in my nipples.

And tensing with this foreign need to explode and release the pressure low within my stomach.

“Dmitri…”

I’d beg if I had to. I wanted to come so badly, I wasn’t sure how much more I could wait or handle the intensity of the orgasm I was surely barreling toward.

“You wanna be my good girl?” he demanded as he scowled and thrust his hips faster. Then he kissed me brutally, stealing my breath. “You want to be my good girl, Hannah?”

I arched up to him, meeting his pounding actions. “Yes. Yes, Dmitri.”

After he smashed his mouth to mine and sucked on my tongue, he rocked his hips with a more upward, forceful angle. That was all I needed. It did the trick. Under his weight, trapped with his lips sealed to mine and his dick speared up so deep in my pussy, I came.

My orgasm swept through me with a blinding harshness. I squeezed my eyes shut, worried the force of it would dizzy me. Waves of relief built and strengthened as I milked him with my inner muscles, and I lost all thought of whatever the hell I shouted.

He wasn’t much better. With growls and flashes of profanity, he roared as he came. His dick jerked in me, twitching and flooding me with his hot cum.

“Fuck, Hannah,” he repeated, over and over. Surprise and awe laced his tone as he growled and held me tight. Each time he uttered my name, almost in shocked reverence at finally caving with me, he slumped over me that much more.

I caught my breath as the lingering waves of bliss and pleasure spread through me.

Even though I was thoroughly wrung out and exhausted, I had the foresight to worry about him.

His arm. That shoulder we’d been focusing on.

Even the lingering scar tissue in his leg.

He didn’t fight me when I pushed up to prompt him to roll over.

Once he did, still hugging me tightly, I lay draped over him.

Limp, spent, and too relaxed to move at all, I stayed just like that.

His arms remained where they were. One strapped over my back and the other slanted lower. His hand cupped my ass, but he spread his fingers wide on my side to brace me over him.

Almost like he couldn’t dare to let me go.

Breathing steadier, I made no move to get up. I lay just like that, dazed and sated. Stunned, too, that I’d lost one thing I wasn’t sure I’d give up easily. Dmitri was my first.

And as I realized he’d fallen asleep still holding me over him, I drifted too, sleepily wondering how wonderful it would be if he were my only , too.