Bratva Beast: A Dark Romance

And I decided to fight. I slapped at him, clawed at him, and he roared with joy as he shoved me down hard then ripped his cock from me. I gasped in shock as he turned me around, putting me on my belly, and pinned my arms behind my back.

He fucked me roughly from behind, wrists locked on the small of my back.

“God, I love this tight little cunt. Have you ever been fucked like this before? You’re in heaven right now, I can see it in your eyes. You fight like that because you love how it feels to struggle, but every stroke brings you close. You want to come again, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” I moaned, because yes, god, yes, he was right, I wanted to come.

I had that word on the tip of my tongue.

I wouldn’t use it. There was no tomorrow for me.

He fucked me faster, massive cock spreading me wide, pummeling me, making me his. He pinned me there and growled as sweat dripped down his body, down my back. He licked it up, tasting the skin between my shoulder blades, and I gasped as my back arched.

He hit something deep in my core, his thick tip brushing up against some spot of pleasure I didn’t know I even had—

And pain finally relented and the pure ecstasy was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

I came in a blinding flash. My mouth opened to scream, but he shoved his fingers inside of it again. I gasped and the sudden shock of it only made my orgasm that much more intense. I shook with it, ravished and wild beyond belief, and he didn’t slow down. He was an animal taking his kill.

I died a little death. I came in a massive wave. I begged his name, almost pleading, almost crying, and the orgasm wouldn’t relent until finally, finally, it slowly ebbed and left me a drooling mess on the couch, breathing hard.

He purred like a lion over a carcass and pulled himself back out.

“Not done yet,” he whispered, standing next to the couch. He pulled my head up and I opened my mouth—

He filled me with his cock. I licked myself off him, let him fuck my mouth, moaning until he came down my throat. I sucked him then, taking over as his orgasm washed him away. I licked him clean, every single inch of him, and swallowed his cum greedily.

When I finished, I collapsed back onto the couch in his black house, breathing hard, sweat beading between my breasts.

He knelt down beside me and licked the sweat away then held me. He stayed there on his knees, holding my body in his arms, and cradled me close.

He looked up and there was pure longing and worship in his eyes.

I didn’t know I could make someone feel like that.

The realization broke something in me then and I began to sob.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I said as I cried. “This isn’t because of the sex. I’m so sorry.”

He held me and said nothing, his arms strong and comforting. I sobbed against him, feeling like I could finally breathe after years and years of living under water.

I hadn’t known I could make someone feel good. That was a power I thought was lost to me.

But Mack looked at me like I was the only thing in this entire world, and that emotion suffused me with an incredible glow.

Like waking up to a cool morning after a long, perfect sleep.

My crying broke off after a little bit. He didn’t question me about it, only stood and took me by the hand. His cock was still half hard—I wondered if he wanted more, and based on the way he looked at me, I thought yes, probably—and took me into his bedroom.

He put me under the covers and climbed in next to me.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered and pulled me close. “You’re my goddess. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

I felt him stiffen against my ass, and I smiled.

That was a power I’d never give up.

A power only he could give to me.

I felt warm, and eventually drifted off to sleep.

15

Fiona

There were a lot of Doyle family hangouts in West Philly. The old-timer uncles liked a place called Erin O’Malley’s, a real classic Irish pub. The top-level lieutenants hung around a strip club on the edges of the city called Sparkles.

And the younger cousins like to drink at this open air beer garden called Compact. It was one of those cool places with a weird name, all industrial metal and exposed wood with a staff that looked like they got a weekly tattoo together. Lots of loud club music, lots of rowdy people getting drunk. There was an inside section with lounge seats and ping pong tables and an outdoor courtyard with a gravel floor and long communal benches.