Page 15 of Traded & Bred By the Bratva
His fingers find the zipper of my dress and slowly drag it down, the sound intimate in the quiet room. The fabric pools at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lace bra and panties.
He spins me back to face him, his eyes roaming over me hungrily. “Fuck, Sydney. Look at you.” One hand cups my breast through the lace, thumb brushing my nipple until it pebbles under his touch.
I arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping me. He’s so big, so solid, and the way he holds me, like I’m his prize, his possession, makes me wetter than I’ve ever been.
I reach for his shirt, but he catches my wrists gently, pinning them above my head with one hand. “Not yet, baby. I want to take my time with what I bought.” There’s a wicked smile on his lips, but his eyes are soft, almost worshipful.
He leans in, kissing me again, slower this time, his free hand exploring my body, tracing the curve of my waist, the flare of my hips, dipping between my thighs to rub me through my soaked panties.
“Oh god,” I whimper as his fingers press against my clit, circling with perfect pressure. The adrenaline from the auction still has me buzzing, and every touch feels amplified.
“That’s it,” he murmurs, lips brushing my ear. “Feel how wet your pussy is for me already. You love this, don’t you? Being mine.” His voice is low, commanding, sending sparks straight to my core.
He slips his fingers under the lace, stroking my slick folds, and I buck against his hand, desperate for more.
“Yes,” I admit, my voice trembling. I’ve never felt this desired, this possessed, and it’s the biggest turn-on.
He releases my wrists and kneels in front of me. Hooking his fingers in my panties, he drags them down my legs. I step out of them, and he looks up at me with those dark eyes, pressing a tender kiss to my inner thigh before his mouth moves higher.
When his tongue finds my pussy and licks along my folds, I cry out, my hands flying to his hair.
He’s relentless but gentle, lapping at my clit, sucking it between his lips while his hands grip my ass, holding me steady. “Taste so fucking good,” he growls against me, the vibration making me shudder. “This sweet little pussy is mine tonight. Say it.”
“It’s yours,” I gasp, my hips rolling against his face. He’s dominant, controlling the pace, but every stroke of his tongue feels like adoration.
He adds a finger, then two, curling them inside me while his mouth works my clit. The tension builds fast, my thighs shake, and I come hard, moaning his name as pleasure crashes over me.
He doesn’t stop, drawing out every wave until I’m whimpering, oversensitive. Only then does he stand, pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply. I taste myself on his lips, and it’s filthy and intimate all at once.
“Good girl,” he praises, his hands roams my back and unclasps my bra. My breasts spill free, and he cups them, thumbs teasing my nipples as he pushes me deeper into the sofa, stretching me along the cushions.
I lie back and watch as he strips. His body is incredible, all muscled chest and defined abs. When he pushes his pants down, his cock springs free, thick and hard, the head already glistening with pre-cum.
I lick my lips, wanting him.
He climbs over me, caging me in with his arms, his cock resting heavy against my thigh. “Look at me, Sydney.” I meet his gaze, and there’s that chemistry again, burning bright. “I’m going to fuck you now. Fill this pussy that now belongs to me.”
I nod eagerly, spreading my legs wider for him. He positions himself at my entrance, rubbing the head of his cock through my slickness, teasing me. “Please, Max… I need you inside me.”
He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching me open with a groan. “So tight. So perfect for my cock.” The tenderness is there in the way he pauses, letting me adjust, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my lips.
But once he’s buried deep, his hips snap forward, possessive and dominant, claiming every bit of me.
I wrap my legs around his waist, nails digging into his back as he thrusts. Each stroke is deep and powerful, hitting spots that make stars burst behind my eyes.
“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he rasps, his mouth on my neck, sucking marks into my skin. “This pussy was made for me. Taking my cock so well, baby.”
“Yes, harder,” I beg, loving how he owns me.
He grips my hips, angling them up so he can drive even deeper, his rhythm steady and relentless. The sound of our bodies meeting fills the room—wet, obscene, perfect. Sweat slicks my skin. The adrenaline making everything feel urgent and endless.
He flips us suddenly, pulling me on top so I’m straddling him. His hands guide my hips, helping me ride him. “That’s it, ride my cock. Show me how much you want it.”
I brace my hands on his chest, rolling my hips, grinding my clit against him with every downstroke. He looks up at me with raw hunger, one hand sliding up to pinch my nipple, the other gripping my ass possessively.
“You’re so thick,” I moan, increasing the pace. The chemistry between is alive, like every push binds us tighter.
He sits up, wrapping his arms around me, sucking one nipple into his mouth while thrusting into me.
