He switches to the other breast, sucking hard enough that sparks shoot straight to my clit. His hand slides between my legs, two thick fingers pushing inside me without warning. I’m drenched, swollen, and the heel of his palm grinds against my clit until my hips are chasing his hand in shameless circles.
“Soaked,” he groans. “Your perfect pregnant cunt is greedy for me already.”
I keen, thighs trembling. “Vitali, please,”
He stands just long enough to rip his belt open, shove his trousers and briefs down. His cock springs free, flushed dark, a bead of pre-cum pearling at the tip. My mouth waters. I want to taste him, but he’s already back between my legs, lifting my hips, angling me exactly how he wants.
“Lift your legs up and look at me,” he orders.
I do as he says, lifting my legs in a wide V holding them up with my hands on the back of my thighs. He loves it when I’m on display, where he can get a full view of everything he wants to see and then fuck me until we both go insane.
I open my eyes just as he drags the head of his cock through my folds, coating himself, teasing my clit until I’m writhing. Then he notches at my entrance and pushes in, slow, relentless, stretching me open inch by inch.
The impossible fullness makes me cry out, and he stills, jaw clenched so tight I see the muscle jump.
“Breathe, Charlotte. Let me in. Let me feel what I did to you.”
I nod frantically, forcing my body to soften, to take him. He slides deeper, deeper, until his hips meet mine and he’s seated to the hilt. My walls flutter around him, adjusting, and he wraps his hands around my trembling thighs, placing my legs against his biceps.
“Feel that?” he rasps. “Feel how deep, how perfectly you take me now? This cunt was made for my cock. Made to be bred by me.”
I sob his name, legs locked straight and high.
He pulls back and thrusts in again, hard. Once. Twice to ensure I can take him fully, comfortably. Then he sets a punishing rhythm, the chaise creaking beneath us and bumping against the wall, my back arching off the velvet as he fucks me like the world is ending.
“Going to keep you pregnant,” he growls over me. “As soon as this one is born I’m putting another in you. And another.” His teeth are clenched together, his words coming out as threats that only make me hotter for him. “I want you round and glowing and dripping for me every fucking always.”
The words detonate inside me. Pleasure coils vicious and bright at tip of my clit.
“Yes, yes, Vitali, please,” I beg, beginning one of my hands to my mound, teasing either side of my clit, knowing direct contact will throw me over the edge and I don’t want that yet.
“You’re going to get so big with my baby,” he snarls, palm splaying over my lower belly, pressing just enough that I feel him even deeper. “Want to watch these tits leak milk while I fuck you from behind. Want to keep you so full of me you’ll never be empty again.”
“Yes,” I moan and it comes out on a long keen. I can’t stop myself now. His eyes rake over me, my tits, bouncing in time with his thrusts, and lower to where my fingers don’t quite touch my clit. His pupils blow.
“Look at how well you take me. Look at how your tight pussy stretches around my thick cock.”
I lift my head and see the space where we are joined. My pussy spasms so hard I fall back again. Vitali lets go of my left leg and pushes it aside, making me wider than ever for him, then pushes my fingers aside.
He pinches my clit and I rocket over the edge of my orgasm and let it take me in a tidal wave I can’t fight. I come with a scream, clenching around him so hard his rhythm shatters. He slams in twice more, then buries himself deep and groans, pulsing hot inside me, flooding me, marking me all over again even though the job is already done.
When his groans to turn soft whimpers as his cock jerks it’s final, weaker emptying, I realize something.
He makes me feel powerful.
The way he comes undone, the way he owns both our pleasure, the way he breaks apart deep inside of me. It’s something I don’t want to lose.
I bring a man like Vitali Dubovich to his knees. I make him groan, moan, roar and whimper with pleasure.
It’s addictive.
We stay locked together, panting, sweat-slick and shaking. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he shifts us carefully, settling back on the chaise with me straddling his lap, still impaled, his arms banded around me like he’ll never let go.
His hand returns to my belly, reverent now, thumb stroking slow circles.
“Keep me inside you,” he says quietly, fiercely. “Ride me like the fucking goddess you are.”
Vitali
