Page 6 of Chosen By the BRATVA Grump

I nod, unable to believe that I’ve brought a man like him to a trembling wreck.

“I want to make you feel good,” he says, eyes closed now as his head drops back to the floor.

“You did,” I say, still not touching him. There’s a growing circle of moisture on his boxers. I fight the urge to put my mouth on it.

“I don’t just want to blow my load like a horny teenager. I want to fill you up with my cum, but I want you to enjoy my cock.”

“Just take a breath, Natan,” I say quietly, reaching for either side of his waistband and pulling everything down at once. He lifts his hips to help, and I leave them around his knees.

“Breathe,” I say again as I take him in my hand. He hisses a breath between his teeth, and his balls tighten. His cock throbs in my hand. I wait for the initial spurt of cum, but when it doesn’t come, I line him up to my entrance.

He is thick. Thick enough that my hand doesn’t entirely circle him, but my entire nervous system seems to be screaming for him to be inside me right now.

I take it slow, sinking onto him, breathing through the stretch as his hands come to my thighs and squeeze. By the time I’m fully seated, I’m panting with the exertion of it. I’ve never felt so full, and I’m glad he is so close, because I don’t think I could ride him right now if my life depended on it. Instead, I lean forward, placing my hands on his shoulders and make a small circle with my hips.

He groans, his body tensing beneath me.

“Open your eyes, Natan,” I say as I make another circle, moaning at the fullness of having him inside me.

He does as I ask, keeping his eyes on mine. He exhales, a long, shuddering sigh and moves his hands to my hips, pressing me down as he arches up, pushing himself further into me.

“You look so amazing on top of me,” he says, still not taking his eyes from mine.

I rotate my hips again, and this time, he hits the spot inside me that gets me to where I need to be. He must see the change in my face, because his thumb immediately goes to my clit, pressing firmly as he pulls out and thrusts back into me from below.

“Yes, Natan,” I call out before I forget words entirely. He pistons his hips between my thighs, holding onto me with one big hand, and letting me use the other for the friction I need. I lean back, changing the angle so he bumps against my g-spot more frequently, and then my vision goes to stars.

The waves of orgasm are punctuated by sounds I don’t think I’ve ever made before, but I don’t care. I manage to open my eyes and watch as he comes apart beneath me. It all happens in a blur of motion, his hand coming from my hip and scooping around my ass as he rears up, flipping us over and driving himself deep.

“Yes,” he shouts. Grunts align with his thrusts as he empties himself inside me. His face twists and then softens as he moans, the muscles in his chest quivering as the last of the orgasm works its way through him.

I look up at him from my new position, my hands holding onto his broad shoulders. With his dark hair tousled and his pale gray eyes fixed entirely on me.

Natan’s breath hitches, his calloused hand moving up to my ribs to just hold me.

“You have no idea what you just did,” he says, forehead resting against my chest.

Natan

Her skin is warm under my forehead, her heart hammering against her ribs in a fast, wild rhythm. I lie there on the cold floor of her gallery, holding her close, completely pinned to the earth by the weight of what just happened.

I press a soft, slow kiss to the hollow of her throat, moving my lips up her jaw until I find her mouth again.

“I’ve wanted you since the second I saw you in that café,” I murmur against her lips, kissing her deeply, tasting the sweet, intoxicating heat of her. “Every single day. I lay awake in my apartment thinking about what it would feel like to touch you like this. It was better. Better than anything I ever imagined.”

She makes a small, delicate sound in her throat, but instead of relaxing into my chest, her body suddenly goes rigid.

Before I can ask what’s wrong, Kimmie shifts, whimpering a little as she pulls herself off my still half-hard cock. The instant loss of her warmth leaves me feeling strangely hollow. She winces slightly as her feet touch the floor, her hands scrambling for her clothes.

She quickly puts her bra on, then shrugs into her dress and reties it at the side with trembling fingers, her breathing fast and shallow.

I get up, pulling my trousers up and adjusting myself, watching her with a heavy, gathering frown. The sudden shift in the air is like a slap to the face.

“Kimmie,” I say, my voice dropping into that low, even tone I use when something is wrong. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s nothing!” she says quickly. Far too fast. Her eyes darting everywhere except toward me. She smooths down her pink dress with frantic, shaking hands, her cheeks flushed a bright, burning red. “Nothing is wrong. I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I say, reaching out to her. My sheer size seems to loom over her again, and for the first time since I walked through her unlocked door, she looks smaller, guarded.