Dirty Desires: Interracial Russian Mafia Romance

And then he thrust into me.

“Oh!” I cried in pleasure. Craving more. Praying that it would never stop.

He slammed that fat cock into me. So big. So long. He lifted my ass up higher and palmed it. Stuffing my soaked pussy with that length. Getting deeper with each stroke.

I gripped the sheets. My body rocked to his rhythm. I had no control. He was truly fucking me. All I could do was take it.

So close, I muttered, “Jesus.”

“I already told you he cannot help you.” He smacked my ass, gifting me with a delicious sting.

Wanting to dominate him too, I arched my back and dragged my soaked sex along the rigid length of his cock, and then slammed back down on him.

He grunted.

I whispered back, “He can’t help you either.”

Possibly overconfident, I adjusted the angle, lifted and fell again, gasping at the thickness of him. At that moment, I had no idea who was dominating who. Surely, my body worshipped his. Adored every inch. Loved the feel of him.

Panting, he roared and increased the pace, not letting me take control. Denying any dominance I had tried to show.

“No, Ava. I fuck you. You don’t fuck me.” His breaths powered out of his lungs with every strong plunge of my hips.

“Oh!”

So hot, his body radiated lusty heat. It blazed over me, setting me aflame.

I pumped my hips, but it was a lackluster effort. Up and down. Up and down. All I could do was keep up with him. All I could do was take that cock deep inside of me.

Already I ached with searing pleasure. My thighs. My ass. I slid away trying to get a hold on reality.

“Oh, no. Take it, my love.” He moved me back, grabbing my waist and restraining my movements, holding himself deep as he pumped me full.

“Misha,” I moaned.

“Yes. There you go.”

Claiming me even more, he gripped my hips and slowed his pace. The new rhythm caressed my g-spot. My pussy fisted him from root to his thick, mushroomed tip.

He was balls deep. As deep as anyone could get. His entire length pierced me. Shattering all I knew about sex. My knees weakened as I arched my back.

“Give it all to me.” Wild, he grunted, stretched my pussy, pulled his cock all the way out, and then rammed back into my pussy, showing me whose pussy it would always be.

He plunged into me again and again.

And every few seconds, he slapped that ass, giving it a perfect sting.

A delicious mixture of pain and pleasure.

It was his pussy. Apparently, I was just taking care of it. Misha had put his name on this pussy. Now he was dotting the exclamation mark.

As if hearing me, he groaned, “Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

“Whose?”

“Dear God. It’s yours. All yours!”

“Fucking right it is.” He bent over me and enveloped my body in his presence, riding me hard.

He took control, of not only my body, but my pleasure. Lowering himself, his chest pressed against my back. He moved his hands from my hips and held both my breasts, fucking me like a wild, hedonistic beast. His hips thrust in sharp movements. His cock tunneled deep into me.

I almost yelled out, but his finger was in my mouth. I sucked on it, loving the taste of him.

“Take it!” He slammed into me more.

My ass jiggled from the impact.

My breasts bounced.

“Fucking right,” He growled, beating that pussy up. “Cum for me.”

“Oh!” I curled my toes.

“Say my name goddamn it!”

“Misha!”

He took the finger from my mouth, right as I climaxed, screaming at the top of my lungs.

It was a perfect release.

An orgasm of mega proportions.

Delectable.

Intense.

Body-shattering.

Ecstasy cocooned me.

“Damn, Ava,” Misha cried out as he rode his own orgasm too. Coming hard. Hot liquid jetted inside me. So ferociously. Each scorching burst of semen shot out like its own separate thrust.

“Fuck!” I cried out.

His voice was a battered whisper. Each word came out hoarse. “Fuck is right.”

He still hadn’t taken that cock away as he exploded inside me. I took it. All of him. When he was finally done, he trembled against me. Sweat slicked our skin.

“Damn it. I don’t want to leave you.” His hand went around my throat and tenderly gripped it. He grunted and wildly thrust into me once more.

“Oh, Misha.”

“Dear God, Ava.” He pulled out of me.

My pussy dripped from him.

Cum trickled down my thighs.

I panted from the aftershock of the best orgasm of my life.

He rubbed his lips against my cheek and then kissed it. Still, that hand never left my throat as he landed more kisses on my face and then neck. His fingers didn’t constrict my breathing, but it told me more than his cock, or his words ever could.

I was his.

He owned every part of me.

I could pretend that those words were just statements during sex, but it would be stupid.