Page 33 of Reclaimed By My Ex’s Bratva Brother

I couldn't even deny it. My body gave me away, slick and ready.

He unbuckled his pants, shoving them down just enough to free his cock. It stood thick and heavy between us, the head glistening.

"Watch." He gripped my thigh, spreading me wider. "Watch me fuck this pretty pussy."

I couldn't look away. He positioned himself at my entrance, and I watched as he started to push in. The stretch was immediate, intense. My body struggled to accommodate him, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly as he worked himself deeper.

The visual was overwhelming—seeing myself spread open around him, seeing how much of him I was taking. My whole body went taut.

"Relax," he growled. "You're so tight you're gonna snap my dick off."

But I couldn't. Every nerve ending was on fire, caught between pain and pleasure as he filled me inch by inch.

Then he thrust hard, burying himself to the hilt.

"Fuck!" I grabbed his forearm, nails digging into his skin. The sensation was too much—too full, too stretched, the burn mixing with sparks of pleasure until I couldn't tell them apart. My eyes squeezed shut.

His hand gripped my jaw, forcing my face toward his. "Open your eyes. Look at me."

I obeyed, meeting those steel-gray eyes.

"Let's see where you run to this time." His voice was harsh, possessive.

The reminder of this morning—sneaking out of his bed like a coward—hit me. Before I could respond, he pulled back and slammed in again.

"Varlam!" My cry echoed in the office.

"That's right. Say my name." He set a brutal pace, each thrust driving me up the desk. "Let everyone in this building know who's fucking you."

His hands roamed my body, kneading the soft flesh of my hips, my thighs, my breasts. He seemed fascinated by every curve, every generous inch of me.

"Love these hips," he muttered, gripping them hard enough to bruise. "Love how soft you are. How you take me so perfectly."

The praise mixed with the relentless rhythm pushed me closer to the edge. My hands scrambled for purchase on the desk, knocking over a pen holder. It clattered to the floor, forgotten.

"Touch yourself," he ordered. "Play with those pretty tits while I fuck you."

My hands moved to obey, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples. The added stimulation made my inner walls flutter around him.

"That's it. God, you're squeezing me so tight." He leaned down, biting my neck. "You gonna come for me? Gonna soak my cock?"

"Yes, please, I'm—" I couldn't form coherent words. The pressure was building, coiling tighter and tighter.

"Come, baby. Let me feel it."

The orgasm crashed through me. I cried out, my body clenching around him in waves. He didn't slow down, fucking me through it until the pleasure bordered on pain.

"Again," he demanded.

"I can't—"

"You will." His thumb found my clit, rubbing circles that made me see stars. "Give me another one."

The second climax hit before I'd recovered from the first. I was sobbing now, overwhelmed by sensation, by him, by everything.

"That's my good girl." His pace turned erratic, losing its rhythm. "Fuck, I'm close. Gonna fill this perfect cunt—"

He buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan. I felt the hot pulse of him inside me, felt him throb as he emptied himself. His whole body shuddered against mine.