Page 7 of Protected By the BRATVA Grump

He moans, pulling his cock free, revealing himself to me. His cock is thick and long and weeping at the tip.

"I want you to—"

"Not yet." His hand closes around my wrist, stilling my movement. "I want to remember this. You, open like this, wanting."

He reaches out now, running the rough pads of his fingers where mine were only moments ago.

He leans in then, finally, and kisses me. It’s deep and filthy and nothing like the careful restraint he’s shown for months. His free hand cups my breast, thumb dragging over my nipple, and I arch into him with a sound I didn’t know I could make. His mouth moves to my throat, my collar bone, down over one breast and sucking in my nipple hard enough to make me mewl. He has one hand between my thighs and the other cupping my other breast, squeezing almost enough to hurt and yet the weight won’t ease.

He pulls back and looks me in the eyes again. Asking. My pelvis jerks upwards in response, my pussy begging for attention.

Then his mouth is on me. My right hand shoots to the back of his head, my fingers threading through his thick hair. MY left hand goes up and back, searching for something to hold onto and finding the edge of the plate rack.

The sensation where his mouth is on me is heavy and hot and when I manage to get my vision to focus on him, I can see hisshoulder flexing and moving and know he is jerking himself as he eats me. I don’t know why I find that so hot, but when he slides his tongue inside me, moving in thick loops, licking at my internal walls, my vision blurs again.

I’m breathing fast now. Panting, pulling in air like I’m drowning. My head feels full of cotton wool and I don’t recognize any of the sounds I’m making. When he pulls his tongue from me, I whimper and plead.

He says something, but I’m too far gone for words to make sense and pull his head back to where I need it. His tongue finds my clit and flickers over it relentlessly until the wall holding the pleasure back is completely gone. A scream tears through me on the first wave. My foot slips from the edge of the counter, and he catches it, hooking it over his shoulder as he licks me through each stage. My hips roll, my pussy seeking him out where I need him most as I come apart.

When there’s nothing left but the aftershocks, he pulls back just enough to look at me. "I can’t be gentle," he says. "I want to be, but I can’t."

"I don’t need you to be gentle."

He lifts me off the counter. My legs wrap around his waist like that’s where they’ve always belonged, and he carries me two steps before we’re both too impatient, too frantic. We end up on the kitchen floor, my back against the cool linoleum, his chest warm against my tits as he lowers himself over me.

He pauses, kneeling between my thighs, and takes me in again. The floor is hard and unforgiving, but I don’t care. I reach for him but he stops me again.

"I can’t," he says. "If you touch me, it will all be over. I’m barely holding it together as it is."

I can’t believe how wrecked this man is. This tall, broad, bratva man is almost whimpering at the sight of me lying before him. He just ate my pussy until I saw stars and he is still looking at me like I hold the answers to all the questions he has ever asked.

"Tell me," he says, kneeling over me. "Tell me you want this."

"I want this," I say, and my voice is steady even though I’m shaking. "I’ve wanted this since I first saw you."

He pushes inside me.

The stretch is sudden, overwhelming, and my head falls back against the floor with a soft thud. He groans, a raw, broken sound, and stills for a moment, giving me time to adjust. His arms bracket my head, muscles taut, and when I open my eyes, he’s looking down at me with an expression that’s almost pained.

"You feel—" He stops, jaw working. "Christ, Delilah."

I wrap my legs higher around his hips, urging him deeper, and he loses whatever thread of control he was holding. He moves with a rhythm that’s hard and relentless, each thrust driving me against the floor. The contrast between the cold linoleum floor and his warm chest sends sparks up my spine. I dig my nails into his back, feeling the shift of muscle beneath my palms, the sheer physicality of him after months of wondering.

"Look at me," he demands, and I do. I hold his gaze as he drives into me, watching the way his eyes darken, the way his control frays at the edges. "I knew you’d feel amazing," he grunts, "but not like this."

He lifts one of my legs higher, driving deeper.

"Fuck, you’re perfect." His jaw is tight and his words are barely sounds now. "I can’t hold back—fuck Delilah—" the sound he makes as he fills me is somewhere between a growl and whimper. His mouth goes slack and his eyes drop to the spacewhere we’re joined as he keeps pumping me full of his cum in a now broken rhythm.

"Fuck—" he says again, dropping his head and sucking one of my nipples into his mouth, making my body spasm. "Fuck, I’m so sorry."

I let out a light laugh. "There’s absolutely no reason to apologize for that," I say, lightly smacking his ass when he presses himself as deep as possible and stays there. "I’ve never felt so sexy in my entire life."

He doesn’t say anything more. He kisses me, everywhere he can reach with his mouth while his still half hard cock stays buried inside me.

"I’m not pulling out until I make you come on my cock," he says after a few minutes.

"You don’t have to do that," I say, knowing it’s not something guys can usually do when they’ve just come themselves.