The Cleaner (Chicago Bratva 7)

“If you gag me, how will you hear me say stop?”

“I wouldn’t. A good reason for you to obey, then, isn’t it?” He smacks my other cheek.

“Ow! Not so hard.”

He hooks his thumbs under the waistband of my panties and tugs them down my thighs.

I stiffen, expecting another smack, but he strokes my ass, trailing his roughened palm lightly across my skin. After a moment, I relax. My skin tingles in the three places he’s slapped me, and it’s starting to heat and burn a little. His light touch only makes me hungry for the harsher treatment again.

He strokes along the inside of one cheek, following it up to the cleft of my ass then sliding down the center between my legs. He gives my pussy a few light slaps. Heat explodes in my core. I suddenly want more. I chase his fingers, pushing my hips back.

He rubs between my legs with bold, firm strokes.

I moan loudly to show my appreciation.

“Quiet, Kateryna.”

I love the way he uses my full name like I’m in trouble. It’s so hot.

He gives my pussy another slap.

This time I make a plaintive sound. I reach between my legs to stroke myself.

“You rub, malysh. I’ll spank.”

“Wait–”

He slaps my bare ass, but it’s a good one. Slappy and firm without making me yelp.

“Mmm,” I moan, rubbing the pad of my index finger through my juices. I don’t usually get that wet, but apparently, all I was missing before was a hot dommy man slapping my ass. Everything feels so wet and swollen down there, I don’t even recognize my own anatomy.

True to his word, Adrian goes slowly. He slaps one side, rubs. Slaps the other. Repeats. It’s a perfect pace for my attention-wandering mind and the intensity is just right for my overly sensitive state, too.

Now, if I could just come. I change hands when my arm gets tired of holding me up. Adrian pushes my torso down so my chest is on the bed and my ass still in the air, which is actually easier. The change was needed, too, because I was beginning to space out.

He picks up speed with the spanking. My whole ass is warm now, so the slaps don’t feel so intense when they fall. It all feels wonderful. I love it. But I still can’t seem to make myself come, as much as I want to.

“I’m sorry,” I croak after a few minutes. Or maybe an hour. I don’t know–time is weird right now. “I can’t come.”

“Maybe you won’t,” Adrian says, like it doesn't matter. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes.”

He grips my ankle and pulls one leg long and then the other until I’m on my belly. Then he rolls me over and takes my lowered panties off.

I figure he’s going to have sex with me, and I’m getting ready to ask if he has a condom, but instead, he parts my legs and pushes my knees up, settling between them.

“Oh!” I clutch his head when he licks into me, pulling his hair with the glory of it.

He lifts his face. “Quiet.”

“Sorry, sorry!” I whisper-pant. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

“You don’t have to come,” he tells me, tracing his tongue around the inside of my labia.

“I will,” I threaten, my inner thighs starting to shake and shiver.

I chase his mouth with my hips, desperate for more. He penetrates me with his tongue, but it’s not enough. I pull his mouth against me, seeking more. He finds the spot that drives me wild–is that my clit? How embarrassing that I don’t even know. All I know is that it’s driving me crazy.

Adrian screws one finger inside me, then another. He pumps them in and out while he continues to lick and suck what must be my clit.

I don’t realize I’m crying out until Adrian lifts his head and growls, “Cover your mouth, Kateryna.”

I slap a hand over my mouth as a feverish heat flushes over me. And then I come. It’s momentous. Monumental. Mind-blowing.

By far the best orgasm I’ve ever had. My internal muscles clamp down on his fingers and pulses of energy shoot down my inner thighs, straight to the soles of my feet where my toes curl. My pelvis jumps and shakes and rocks on the bed. Adrian never stops flicking his tongue over my most sensitive nub while he pumps his fingers in and out.

I let out a long low moan as I come down the other side of it, my belly shaking, my knees flapping against Adrian’s shoulders.

“No more,” I whimper because it’s suddenly too much. Terribly intense. I feel like I’m flying and also like I need to cry. Oh wait–I am crying.

He stops immediately, slipping his fingers out and stroking my thigh with one of his large hands. “Blyad’. What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I gasp, rolling to my side to hide my face in my hands. Embarrassing!