The Director (Chicago Bratva 1)

“Ow!” She draws in a sharp breath.

“Take it, kitten.” I whip her again. A pink mark blooms where I struck the first time. I return to my more gentle figure-eights to diffuse the sting and warm her ass all over.

She moans and sinks down, first to her elbows then to rest her chest on the pillow I provided.

“Good girl,” I praise, even though she’s not doing it to be obedient—she’s doing it to make herself more comfortable. Still, this is how she learns to trust that my orders are for her own good. This is how she learns to trust.

I remember from Black Light how long it took to win her trust, and that was just as a partner for the night. Now, I’m looking at something altogether different.

My right to father our child.

I increase the power behind the twirls, smacking a little harder, and she flinches, squeezing her buttcheeks. I lighten it again and go down the back of each thigh then over her lovely back. “I should make you suck my dick tonight,” I observe. “Except I’m not sure I trust you not to bite it off.”

She murmurs her assent into the pillow, and I smirk to myself.

“I will have to take my pleasure,” I say, returning my attention to her ass. All her skin has a light pink glow. I set about darkening that hue on her ass.

Her fingers tighten on the pillow, her asshole clenches and releases.

I stop flogging and trail the tassels lightly over her reddened skin between her ass cheeks, against her pussy. I swing it and lightly whip her pussy.

She squeaks. I flick again. And again.

Then I drop the flogger and rub over her slit with my fingers.

So wet. Incredibly swollen. Very inviting.

If I cared more for her pleasure, I would drag this scene out like I did at Black Light. But part of me is still angry. So I consider my own desires first.

Right now, I want to fuck my new attorney until the room spins. I unzip my pants and free my straining erection.

“I am clean,” I tell her, my voice rough with desire. “I haven’t been with anyone since I was with you.”

I didn’t mean to tell her that. I’m not sure why I did.

Annoyance with myself makes me shove into her without waiting for her agreement, for her acknowledgement of my plan to enter and ride her bareback.

“I haven’t either,” she gasps as the force of my thrust pushes her forward.

I catch her hips, my heart suddenly lodged higher in my chest.

I shouldn’t be surprised at her admission, considering what I found on her laptop. It’s more that she willingly shared it with me.

But my thoughts start to unravel because being inside her hot, wet channel feels better than I remember. Better than any fuck I’ve ever had.

Can it be because I know she’s carrying my child? Something primitive and caveman in me finds it so appealing?

Or is it that her body is just so much more welcoming under the influence of all the hormones? Either way, I revel in the way her flesh seems to hold my cock tight as I arc in and out of her.

I grip her long blonde hair and wrap it in a fist, using it to lift her head. “You’ve needed this,” I tell her, my own raging lust making me cocky as hell. “Needed my big Russian cock fucking you senseless. Didn’t you, beautiful?”

She only mewls in reply. I didn’t expect her to agree. “You thought you’d given this up forever, didn’t you? Is that why you’ve been watching Russian porn?”

She bucks her hips in surprise, and I tighten my grip, increase the tempo of the fucking. “You needed a good Russian spanking?”

“Shut up!” she snaps.

I’ve embarrassed her. I don’t mind. I am being a mudak, I know. In the heat of the moment, I’m letting my own hurt show.

“Fuck you, Ravil.”

I chuckle. “As you wish, beautiful.” I slam in harder and harder, closing my eyes to savor how good it feels. Lightning strikes the base of my spine, my thighs shake as my balls draw up with the need to come.

I reach around and rub her clit roughly a couple swipes, but I’m too close. I need it so goddamn badly. I cup her nape to hold her in place as I fuck her hard and fast. I shout as I come—roar, actually—and reach around to give her clit my full attention.

She comes almost immediately, her channel squeezing and releasing around my cock, drawing out more and more of my seed.

“Blyat, Lucy. Blyat.” I stroke my hands all over her body, gratitude following fast on the heels of my pleasure.

Forgiveness.

Affection, even.

I wait until her orgasm has passed and she’s regained her breath before I ease out and get a washcloth to clean her up.