The Enforcer (Chicago Bratva 3)

He slaps my ass then enters me. I moan in pleasure.

He hums back—my favorite sound.

After a few short thrusts, he pulls out. Gripping my hips, he lifts me up onto my hands and knees on the bed then crawls up behind me and enters again.

“Yes, please.”

He hums.

Wrapping one hand firmly around the back of my neck, he plows into me in a firm and deliciously disrespectful manner. Just when I don’t think it can feel any better, he presses between my shoulderblades, forcing my torso down to the bed in an even more submissive position.

“Oleg,” I whimper.

He bucks against me, showing me who’s boss with each powerful thrust. His thumb finds my anus, and I squeal in surprise, squeezing against the intrusion.

To my dismay, he pulls out and gives me a few spanks. I hear the sound of the bedside table drawer opening, and then he crawls back behind me and pushes my cheeks wide.

I whimper, suspecting what’s going to happen. I both want it and don’t want it at the same time.

Or maybe I want it, but I’m embarrassed by the idea.

A little nervous.

It doesn’t matter because I know Oleg will take care of me. He’ll pay attention to my needs and listen.

I feel a dollop of a cold gel drop over my anus, and I flinch and shiver. Oleg brings his cock to my back entrance.

I hold still, waiting.

Oleg reaches around, rubbing my clit as he applies gentle pressure. After a moment of resisting him, my little ring of muscles relax and open, and he sinks in.

“Oh,” I moan. It’s intense. Oleg squirts more lube over my crack and rubs it around. When he pushes again it grows even more intense until he gets the head through, then he slips all the way in.

I let out a long vowel on my exhalation.

Oleg goes slowly, taking his time as he fills my ass with his huge cock. All the while, he rubs my clit or finger-fucks me, giving enough attention to my girly-parts to keep me in pleasure.

He hums again.

I hum back.

Oleg works his cock in and out of my ass. My belly flutters with the naughtiness of it. My pussy squeezes on his fingers every time they enter me.

I hear Oleg’s breath growing rough. His thrusts take on a little force.

I cry out with the pain/pleasure of it.

He pushes me forward, following until I’m flat on my belly, and he’s on top of me, his fingers still under my hips working their magic. He humps my ass in this position, which feels safer—maybe because my flesh isn’t as tight this way.

I surrender completely to the sensations. It is total pleasure. There’s enough lube, the position’s perfect, and the clitoral stimulation has my rocket ready to launch any moment.

“Oleg, oh my God,” I moan. “It’s so good. So intense. So good.” I’m babbling now. I don’t care. I don’t ever care with Oleg. I’m never self-consciousness. Never self-editing. “Please,” I whine. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Oleg’s breath grows erratic. His thrusts get harder. He buries three fingers inside my pussy, pushing the heel of his hand over my clit with firm pressure. I squeeze my walls around his fingers, desperate to come.

He grunts and shoves in deep. I feel his thighs shaking against mine as he comes.

I cry out. My pelvic floor muscles don’t squeeze—maybe I’m afraid to contract my anus around his dick. Maybe it’s just too big. I don’t know. It’s a different sort of orgasm. Very different, but infinitely more intense.

I shake and shiver beneath him, and it ripples through my body.

He wraps his arms around me and hums softly.

“I love you,” I whisper. I haven’t said it before, even though it’s been true from the beginning. I was too scared. Too certain things would end, and I’d regret saying it.

But now, I’m moving in. We’re taking things forward. I’m still terrified, but I’m trying to trust that Oleg will still be around tomorrow.

That I can count on him to be as solid as he’s shown himself to be.

I feel him send the words back to me. Maybe it’s not telepathy. Maybe I’m just an empath. It doesn’t matter—all that matters is the message.

He loves me.

Oleg loves me, and he’s solid as a rock.

I can trust in this. In him.

I can trust in us.

Oleg

I ease out of Story and help her up off the bed and into my bathroom for a couples shower. Washing Story has become my favorite pastime. Right after fucking her. Kissing her. Having her in my bed. Having her in my apartment. Having her as my girlfriend.

I take my time with her, running soapy hands all over her smooth skin, shampooing her hair.

She’s tired and can barely stand after the orgasm I gave her, so I hold her up as we go. Towel her dry when we’re done. I tuck her into bed and go out to the kitchen to get us a couple glasses of water.