Page 22 of Trapped By the Bratva
His fingers slid to the back of my neck, cradling me in place, right where he wanted me. Tilting my head to the side, I acquiesced to his unspoken request. To be closer. To cave to his demand. To welcome his dominance over me as I tried to breathe fast enough and savor it all.
Liquid heat spread through me, all this spontaneous desire sparking so quickly. My heart raced from the thrill of a man like him kissing me so expertly, so masterfully, and from the naughtiness of being intimate with my patient.
It was wrong. On so many levels, this was frowned upon, but I couldn’t care. It felt too good to taste his angry mouth and explore until he growled again. Leveraging closer, I put my hands higher, one on his chest and another on the pillows.
“You want to talk about need?” he rasped against my lips when we parted for air. He grabbed my knee and pushed until I lifted up and straddled him. Hovering over him like this emphasized how aroused I’d become. My pussy was throbbing, aching with increased blood flow. Tension coiled low in my belly. Lifted over him like this, I brought my breasts closer to his face.
I’d only worn a summer dress to make a good impression. Like a job interview. I had no forewarning that my outfit could work to my advantage like this. Suspended over him, I felt too bare yet too covered up at the same time. He solved part of that problem.
With his teeth, he tugged the top of my dress away. It was built in with a shelf bra, so once he removed the fabric, I was exposed. My hard nipples pointed at his mouth. My breasts ached with a heaviness I’d never felt before.
As soon as he laid his lips on me, swirling his tongue around my nipple before he sucked hard, I cried out quietly.
He was my patient. This was his home. Becca—my friend—resided here somewhere.
I had no business straddling Dmitri like this. No right to arch my back and push my tits toward him, offering them for his kisses and licks. The sucks and pinches. He’d brought his free hand up to tweak my nipple with a bite of pain.
I hung my head low, moaning and breathing so hard as I rode out all the sensations. My cunt was dripping, and only grinding against the erection tented under the blanket helped the pressure there.
He lowered his hand to slip it under my panties. Tormenting my breasts with his wicked mouth, he doubled down on the pleasure as he tugged my lingerie off my skin, ripping it at its threadbare seams. The coolness of air chilled me. I was that wet. But he stroked his fingers along my folds, heating me up.
“Dmitri…” I gasped as he slid two fingers into my slick heat. The stretch was an unbelievably wonderful fullness, and I sank down on his hand.
“What, Darling?” he crooned between licking my nipples. His tone was teasing, cruelly so, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t summon the willpower to stop.
“You want to talk about needs?” he asked as he sped up his fingers and thumbed a slow circle around my clit.
“I…” I pressed my lips tighter together.
He pushed up with his fingers, and that much deeper, I tensed and groaned. It felt different, but so good. Then I realized he wasn’t only playing with me but guiding me.
“Hold this up,” he ordered with a direct glance at my dress.
Shaky on my knees, I gripped my dress and bunched it up high. He’d slid down on the bed, and at this angle, I tried to make sense of what he was ordering me to do.
With his fingers in my pussy, he pushed me to crawl closer. All the way, until I straddled his head, not his lap.
“Dmitri?”
He stared up at me. His eyes were so dilated as he locked his heated gaze on me. Then he slid his fingers out. Gripping my bare ass, he smeared my cream on my skin. Lower and lower, he forced me.
I gripped the headboard, so stunned that he wanted to?—
“Oh!” I bit my lip to keep from crying out louder. He pushed me down to his face, and his tongue was right back on me, swiping from my entrance to my clit, then stabbing up into me.
He lifted his other hand, the weaker one with all the scars, but he had strength enough to place his fingers on my ass and dig in. One cheek in each hand, he clamped me down to his face as he ate me out.
All while staring straight up at me.
I held on and rocked my hips, grinding against his mouth like he forced me to. His hands directed me, and I was grateful for it because my legs trembled. My breath came too choppy and my pulse wouldn’t slow.
With his stare on me, I came. I bit into my lip so hard that I tasted blood, but I refused to let anyone else in this home know that I was getting pleasured by my patient.
His tongue didn’t stop. He kept licking and laving at me, collecting my juices and sucking them down noisily. Each time his nose bumped into my sensitive clit, I shook all over again. I was too sensitive, too sore.
Too… ashamed. As the glow of my orgasm faded, the need to hide and avoid making eye contact claimed me.
He must have noticed the change on my face. From utter bliss and relief, I was nervous and freaking out.
