Page 83 of Baby for the Bratva King

I circle around the bed, taking the blindfold from the nightstand. I’ve had this accessory for years but never used it.

In some ways, I’ve always been my father’s son. I used to hook up with new women every night, chasing the dopamine. I ruled the business world, but I still ended my night and sank my cock into something warm, using props to make the experience more exciting.

But things have changed. I’m almost forty-five, not the young man I once was. I’ve found permanence, and I have no idea where my feelings for my Honeysuckle could lead, but our connection feels right. Her pleasure is more important than my own.

I place the leather blindfold over her eyes, encouraging her to lie back.

“Open your legs for me, sweetheart. Be my good girl.”

Saskia likes to please people. It’s in her blood. She prioritizes other people’s happiness over her own, sacrificing her own needs and desires as a result.

I’ll make them my number one priority.

I flick my tongue over her clit, her body spasming with each light movement. Her pussy is dripping wet, the sheets damp under her body.

I release my cock, sliding all the way into her heat.

Saskia groans, her lips parted in ecstasy. She pushes her hips into mine, grinding, wanting me to go faster, but I keep things slow.

“No touching,” I command, ripping her hand away from her clit.

I take over, gently rubbing her sensitive area. Her body folds around mine, hair flying across my face as she switches our positions. She sits in my lap, riding my cock, setting the pace—which is incredibly fast.

“Saskia,” I choke, electricity shooting down my shaft. “Slow down.”

“No,” she groans, her mesmerizing hips circling over my lap.

She lifts up, hovering over me, with only the tip inside. She stays like this for a moment, building anticipation, bringing me right to the fucking edge. And then she sits right back down, and I’m engulfed by her warmth once again.

I groan, unable to hold out for much longer. I cross the finish line, spilling deep into her tight pussy.

Saskia’s walls contract as my orgasm triggers her own. She cries out, head lolling back as the climax rips through her like a storm. I remove the blindfold, finding her eyes crinkled, shut tight.

You can’t feel passion without a little bit of pain.

I hold Saskia in my arms as she rides through the final few waves of her climax. She eventually flops over, the crown of her head dug into my chest. The fruity scent of her shampoo works through me, more intoxicating than any aged scotch.

I hold her close, hoping my cum has taken away enough of her pain.

22

SASKIA

I unscrew the glass bottle of apple juice the following morning, taking a quick sip. Nice stuff. Perhaps making your own juice is worth it after all.

I slot the bottle back into the fridge and continue cleaning. Once again, I’m up at the crack of dawn cleaning. It was hard slipping out of bed. Felix is warm, but he insisted on me taking a day off work yesterday, and I’m not a slacker.

I pour bleach down the sink, scrubbing the already very shiny surface.

Last night was very riveting. After reuniting with my father, all I wanted to do was slip back into that euphoric state. Felix sent me there once again, and I feel a little better this morning, aside from the iffy feeling in my stomach.

My throat is dry, and my stomach feels unsettled—not a major concern. I usually felt this way around my father. He triggered my anxiety most days. After seeing him again, I realize how terrible he is for my wellbeing.

I wash away the bleach, going in with a cloth. The next job on my to-do-list is the fridge. Felix is a nuisance, always letting things go out of date.

I crack open the fridge door, wincing when I see the slab of meat on the shelf. It sits in a pool of its own blood, the feeling in my stomach growing worse.

I shut the fridge, a faint spell washing over me, followed by intense heat.