The Director (Chicago Bratva 1)

Ravil throws the door open two minutes later, his ice blue eyes clouded. “What are you doing?” he demands.

I stand up and walk toward him, shrugging. “I wanted to apologize.”

His face softens, his shoulders lose their tension. He shuts the door and holds open his arms. “Come here, kitten.”

I didn’t know I wanted him to hold me, but I instantly step forward into the circle of his arms. In his embrace, my own tension and anxiety drains away. Ravil doesn’t even let me speak, he cups the back of my head to tip my face up and devours my mouth.

He walks me backward as he kisses the hell out of me. I kiss him back. It’s like the night after birthing class all over again. His hands roam all over my body, tugging my blouse over my head, stripping off my bra. He grips my hair and tugs my head back. It’s a rough act—rougher than he’s been before—but then he kisses down the column of my neck. His open mouth drags across my collar bone. His thigh presses between my legs, giving me something to grind down on as I rock my hips.

“Are you going to let me apologize?” I gasp, my mouth finding his neck as he lowers his head to suck one nipple.

“No,” he says. “I was being a child. Forgive me.”

My heart lurches and skids. I think of all the fights Jeffrey and I had. They weren’t horrible, but there was a lot of blame thrown from both sides. It was usually me who just swallowed the whole thing, so we could move on. Jeffrey was never big enough to apologize.

Funny, I never even realized it until now, when Ravil proves himself to be a much bigger man. I suck on his neck, probably hard enough to leave a mark.

It makes Ravil wild. His breath turns to panting like mine. He pushes me onto the bed and spreads my legs, letting me roll to my side for comfort as he licks into me, my top leg tossed over his broad shoulder.

“Ravil!” I burrow my fingers into his hair and tug it. I’m as desperate as he is, and it’s for something more than sex. It’s for communion.

It’s for baring myself to Ravil and seeing him bared to me. In true vulnerability. This is true passion. Not just the product of raging hormones but something more.

Something significant and bold. Something to be revered.

Ravil slides a finger inside me and strokes my inner wall, and I whimper and squirm not wanting to come until his manhood is inside me.

“Please. Ravil?” I beg.

“You taste so good, Lucy.”

“I need you in me.”

“Blyat,” he curses and rises, unzipping his pants to free his length.

I shiver in pleasure the moment he pushes in. He presses his thumb to my anus as he rides me, which shouldn’t feel as pleasurable as it does. Especially when he works it inside me. There’s nothing like the dual sensations of having both holes filled at once. It’s a pleasure overload.

He fucks me that way, each stroke making me more and more desperate to come, the coil of need tightening and tightening.

“I’m going to fuck your ass today, Lucy,” he says roughly.

“Okay,” I say. He’s pushed my boundaries continually. I’m still embarrassed by anal play but no longer afraid of it. I’m not afraid of anything Ravil wants to do to my body. He’s proved over and over again he knows how to make it good.

He pulls his thumb out first then his cock and leaves me to get lube. When he returns, I watch him over my shoulder as he spreads my cheeks and dribbles lube over my back hole. He rubs some over his cock, too.

Thankfully, he goes slowly, applying steady but gentle pressure to my anus until I relax to let him in.

“Push a little,” he tells me.

I do, and he slides in. It’s too big, and I draw a sharp breath, but once his head is in, it gets better.

“All right, kitten?”

“Yes,” I pant.

He eases the rest of the way in, inch by inch until he’s all the way seated, and he gives me a moment to get used to the sensation. Then he begins a very slow pump.

My eyes roll back in my head. It shouldn’t be so pleasurable.

Ravil rubs my clit hard and fast.

I moan and hiccup, moan again. He begins to pick up speed fucking my ass, pushes in deeper, pulls out farther. Everything feels good. Stretchy, full, but good.

Ravil fucks my pussy with the cone of his fingers put together, and I cry out, needing desperately to come.

“Not yet,” Ravil warns.

“Please. Oh please, oh please, oh please. I need to come now. Stop. More! Oh God.”

Ravil’s breath grows erratic. I open my eyes to watch him, watch his passion take over his face, watch him lose control.