Bratvas vow, p.19
Bratva's Vow, page 19
So goddamn beautiful it made something primal claw up inside me to claim him.
He sat there, breath coming quick, legs parted slightly, lace framing him like a gift I hadn’t earned. The soft lighting caught on the sheen of his skin, and his chest lifted with each inhale, every one tighter than the last.
I kneeled onto the bed, crawled over him, slow and deliberate.
His lashes fluttered as I caged him in, one hand braced beside his head, the other sliding up his thigh. He moaned quietly when I leaned in, lips brushing his cheek, his jaw, his throat.
Then I kissed him.
Not hard.
Not fast.
But deep.
Possessive.
A kiss that said, “You’re mine. You ran, and I still came after you. I will always come after you.”
He opened his mouth to me like it was instinct, like he was starving for it, and I took full advantage. Our tongues met in a slow, filthy dance, wet, consuming. He whined into my mouth, rocking his hips up in a desperate plea for friction.
“Please,” he panted when I broke away just long enough for him to breathe. “Maxim…”
His voice cracked, wrecked and needy.
And I almost gave in right then.
Almost tore the lace off him and buried myself inside him until he forgot everything that wasn’t me.
Instead, I pulled back.
His eyes widened in disbelief as I climbed off the bed.
“Wh-where are you going?”
I didn’t answer him but stood at the foot of the bed, grabbed the hem of my shirt, and yanked it over my head in one fluid motion. His eyes followed the movement like he was hypnotized. I didn’t rush. I wanted him to look. To watch.
I let the shirt fall to the floor and reached for my belt, slowly unbuckling it with deliberate precision. The leather slipped free with a soft hiss.
Wren’s gaze dropped to my hands.
I popped each button on my trousers one at a time, then pushed them down my hips, letting them slide to the floor. I stood there in nothing but my briefs, the outline of my cock obvious, straining, the fabric damp at the tip.
He let out a soft whimper.
“Enjoying the show?” I asked, my voice low and rough.
He nodded, barely inhaling.
I grabbed the silk restraints, the butt plug, and the cock cage I needed. Returning to the bed, I took the ties and motioned for him to shift up to the head of the bed.
“Turn over.”
Without a word, he rolled over onto his stomach with his arms raised. I loved his obedience. His back rose and fell in staccato rhythm as I tied the silk around his wrists, securing him to the headboard.
“You should tie me up more often,” he whispered over his shoulder.
Fuck.
He was perfection wrapped in skin as soft as the silk around his wrists and a perfect backside ready to be fucked. I pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the back of his neck. He gasped, head falling forward.
“Maaaax…”
I bit his shoulder, firm enough to leave a mark, then kissed the spot, slowly making my way down the curve of his back.
He writhed beneath me, panting, moaning, bound wrists twisting in the restraints as I traced my mouth along his spine. Every flick of my tongue, every graze of teeth, had him arching and gasping like he didn’t know whether to beg or cry.
I slid my hands down, gliding over the swell of his ass, the lace soft and tight beneath my palms.
“God, you’re perfect,” I whispered. “You know that, sweetheart?”
His hips jerked.
I dragged my teeth across the top of one cheek and felt him tremble.
“So fucking beautiful like this. Every inch of you made to be mine.”
He let out a broken little sound that shot straight to my cock.
I trailed one finger down the seam of his ass, slow and deliberate, pausing behind his balls, teasing the sensitive strip of skin there.
His breath hitched.
I peeled the lace down, leaving the delicate fabric tangled at his upper thighs just where I wanted it. A hint of what he wore for me. A reminder.
His ass was bare and flushed and perfect.
I spread his cheeks slowly, deliberately, loving the way his breathing shifted, the way his muscles tensed. His hole clenched as the cool air hit it, puckered and pink and needy.
“Still so tight,” I murmured, kissing the curve of one cheek. “But you’ll open for me, won’t you? You always do.”
“Yes.”
“That’s my good boy.”
I grabbed the plug, the one with the jeweled end, sleek and black and the right size to remind him he was mine. I slicked it with lube and brought it to his entrance.
Wren shifted his hips, nervous and eager at once.
“Breathe, solnyshko. I’ve got you.”
I rubbed slow circles around his rim, watching him twitch, curling his fingers in the restraints.
He let out a shaky exhale as I teased him with the tip, applying the barest pressure, circling slowly, coaxing.
A mewling sound escaped him.
“There it is,” I murmured. “That sweet little flinch.”
I ran my palm up the small of his back, grounding him, letting him feel me. I kissed the back of his neck, then pressed my cheek to his shoulder and exhaled slowly against his skin.
“Shh… breathe. Let it happen. Let me in, baby.”
The muscles beneath me flexed, tight and trembling.
I kept the pressure steady, not pushing too hard, rocking the plug against him with slow intent. Soft circles, then a little deeper.
“That’s it,” I coaxed. “Don’t fight me. Let me open you up like you’re meant to be.”
He moaned, high and breathy, his forehead resting against the pillow.
I saw every ripple in his body, every flicker of sensation. He clenched his hands in the restraints, legs shaking slightly where they were spread wide for me. I reached down and palmed his ass, thumbs spreading him wider.
“You always take me so well,” I whispered. “I love watching you soften for me. Every time I stretch you open, it’s like your body remembers who it belongs to.”
He sobbed softly, caught between pain and pleasure.
“Good boy,” I praised, kissing his spine, letting the plug push a little deeper.
He gasped, lifting his head off the pillow for a second, then dropping it again.
I paused. Rubbed his lower back with one hand. Murmured low reassurances in Russian against his skin.
When he relaxed, I pressed in again. Inch by inch, steady, unrelenting.
“There you go. You’re doing so fucking well for me, Wren.”
Another gasp. Another twitch of his thighs.
I traced my fingers along the inside of his hip. The plug slid in another inch.
“Just like that. Let it stretch you.”
When the widest part pressed against him, I paused, holding there, letting his body adjust.
He whimpered, breath caught in his throat.
“You feel that? That stretch is mine. That ache… that’s me claiming you.”
He let out a broken cry, and I kissed the back of his neck again.
Then slowly, so slowly I pushed the plug in the final inch.
It seated with a soft, wet sound, the jeweled end settling flush between his cheeks.
He was panting. Trembling. Utterly undone.
I reached around, gently cupped his cock.
Still hard. Still leaking.
He moaned, the sound long and low.
“That’s it,” I murmured against his ear. “You took it so well, kroshka. Just like I knew you would.”
I kissed the corner of his jaw and whispered, “Now… I need that pretty cock of yours soft by the time I finish my shower.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MAXIM
The water beat down on my back, sharp and cold to take the edge off my lust, but I didn’t move.
I’d stayed too long.
Part of me had thought the time away from Wren would help. Thought if I put some distance between us, it would take the edge off how badly I needed him. After several days of having nothing but his anger, he was finally submitting to me, and the need to take everything he had to give and mark him as mine was more powerful than before our falling out. Until Wren ran away from home, I’d underestimated how much I wanted him.
But the image of him, tied down, stretched open, lace clinging to his thighs, trembling around a plug I’d buried in him, was branded behind my eyes like fire on flesh.
I was hard the entire time.
When I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, I was still aching. Still pulsing with need. I dried myself fast, ignoring the press of my cock against the terrycloth, and left the bathroom hoping that some final scrap of discipline might have returned.
It hadn’t.
Because the moment I walked into the bedroom, the air left my lungs.
He was still where I’d left him.
Still fucking perfect.
As soon as I entered, Wren rose on his knees, back arched, his arms stretched taut toward the headboard. The silk ties dug slightly into the pink skin of his wrists where he’d tested the bonds. His forehead rested on his forearms like he’d been waiting for me the whole time.
But it was the way he held himself that undid me.
His ass was high in the air, cheeks spread enough to see the jeweled plug gleaming between them. His legs were open wide, shaking faintly from the effort of holding the pose. The panties I’d left bunched at his thighs still hung there like a delicate ribbon.
And his cock…
Soft.
Exactly as I’d commanded.
A low growl rolled from my throat.
The towel slid from my shoulders and hit the floor, forgotten.
I stalked to the bed, heart pounding, and climbed on slowly—deliberately—like a lion circling its prey. My palms skimmed up the backs of his thighs, over the round swell of his ass, tracing the curve of his body as he shivered beneath me.
“You listened,” I murmured, voice rough with approval. “God, look at you. Obedient. Spread. Waiting for me.”
He moaned softly, pressing his hips back like he couldn’t help it.
“You were so hard for me earlier.” I dragged my fingers down his inner thighs. “Leaking through your pretty lace… and now?”
I cupped his cock gently, reverently. It lay against his thigh, soft and warm, his balls pulled tight beneath. I kissed the small of his back and gave him a slow stroke, more praise than stimulation.
“Now you’re soft. Just like I asked.”
“Maxim…” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling.
“You did so fucking well for me, solnyshko.” I lifted to kiss the back of his neck. “You waited. You obeyed. You let me see how much you belong to me. Do you know how much I appreciate that? How much I appreciate you?”
He let out a shuddered breath, half a sob, half a whimper.
I reached to the side table and picked up the metal cock cage I’d set out earlier. Cold, polished, perfectly sized. When I showed it to him, he stiffened beneath me but didn’t pull away. Didn’t speak.
I kissed his shoulder blade. “Let me protect what’s mine.”
He nodded. Submissive. Trusting. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Good.”
I slid my hand between his legs, gently raised his cock and balls, and fit the base ring snugly behind them. He hissed through his teeth, sensitive from being touched, but didn’t complain.
Then I guided his cock into the sheath, careful, slow, checking every angle. He twitched, whimpered. His whole body trembled.
“You’re doing so good for me,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his hip. “Letting me lock you up. Letting me keep you safe from yourself. From me.”
I clicked the lock into place.
He gasped.
The cage was secure. “There you go. Now you’ll keep your promise to me that you won’t come. That this”—I ran my hand down his back, palmed his ass, then pressed one finger against the base of the plug—“is all mine to use the way I see fit tonight. Isn’t that right, Wren?”
“Yes, Maxim. I’ve always been yours.”
“You kept this in for me too.” I pressed hard on the buttplug, shoving the tip in even deeper, teasing. “You’re full of good decisions tonight, aren’t you?”
He whimpered. “Please…”
I grabbed the lube again, slicked my fingers generously, and eased the plug free with slow, deliberate care. He gasped as it slipped from him, his hole clenching around the absence.
“So greedy.” I worked the tip back inside him, fucking him slowly with the plug. He trembled beneath me with each thrust.
His submission was intoxicating. It filled me with a kind of high, a rush of adrenaline I’d never get from anything else.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” I murmured, slapping his ass hard once. “So fucking beautiful.”
I rubbed circles into his hips and tossed the plug aside. I replaced it with two slick fingers, pushing into him harder than I had with the plug. He arched his back, and something darkly possessive surged through me at his response to my touch.
“Maxim—” He was gripping the silk restraint and pulling on it, but no way was he getting loose. Not until I was thoroughly finished with him. “I can’t think.”
I continued to stretch him open with my fingers. “You don’t need to think. Just lie there and let me use this pretty little hole.”
Removing my fingers, I picked up the bottle of lube again, slicked the liquid down my dick, and guided my cock to his entrance. I wanted to play and tease him some more. But the second the head of my cock connected with his rim, I lost it. Wren’s long moan accompanied me bottoming out inside him in one fluid thrust. His cheeks tightened, and he panted.
I smacked his cheeks. “Come on. Loosen up for me. That’s it. You do everything I tell you to do, my good boy. It’s fucking adorable the way you give in.”
“Yes.” He breathed out, a shudder running through his body. “Yes, Maxim. Please use me. Fuck me.”
Not just a plea. Not just desperation.
A gift.
A surrender so honest it broke me.
He was so tight.
Even with the plug having stretched him, even slicked and ready, his body still clung to me like it didn’t want to let me go. Heat wrapped around me in a vice grip, and my control snapped taut, barely holding.
Spreading his cheeks apart, I kept my eyes glued to his hole, watching the peek-a-boo dance of my cock disappearing and reappearing over and over. His body pulsed around me, tight, then loose, greedy for each thrust.
Every push, every little groan he made only fueled the need I had to lay stakes on him. To control him. To get him to accept that from this day onward, there was no him without me. No me without him.
He whimpered into the pillow, pushing back instinctively, even though I knew it burned. Even though it was overwhelming. So I gave him some more. Bottoming out on each thrust, hips flush against his ass, buried in him to the hilt. Buried so deep he yelped, shying away. But I caught his hips, pulled him back into my thrust.
“Come on, be good for me. Show me how well you can take it. Yes, stay right there and arch your back into it!”
The praise whore that he was, he seemed to forget the hurt, throwing his ass back into my thrust. The more I vocalized how good he was, the more he forgot everything but wanting to please me.
Collapsing onto his back, I grind into him, shoving my face against his neck and biting down on his shoulder hard. “My good boy,” I whispered into his ear, still thrusting into him. “Taking me so well. Letting me in. Letting me have everything. All for me.”
He was panting hard now, his legs together, making him tighter. The pathetic helplessness of him being fucked senseless, bound to my bed only egged me on further.
He cried out softly, shaking, the rhythm of his breathing broken by little sobs of sensation. I pulled back almost entirely—slow, deliberate—then thrust back in with force.
His whole body rocked under me, and he gasped again, louder this time.
“That’s it,” I growled. “That’s what I want. That perfect little sound you make when I’m buried so deep you can’t think straight.”
I reset the pace. Deep and slow. Not brutal. Not yet. I wanted him to feel it. To feel every inch of me. The weight of me on top of him.
Every thrust was a promise. Every slide of my cock inside him a reminder that he was mine. That he was never allowed to leave me. To leave this.
“Please,” he sobbed. “Please, Maxim. Don’t stop.”
“I’m not stopping.” I bit the top of his ear. “Not until you’re so full of me you can’t remember how it felt to not be owned. Do you hear me, Wren?”
His fingers were curled into fists against the ties, knuckles white. I reached down and gripped his bound hands, interlacing my fingers with his as I drove into him harder, faster now.
The wet sound of our bodies slapping together echoed through the room, obscene and perfect. He let out a wrecked, helpless whine, raw and desperate.
“You love it when I fuck you like this.” I licked along the sweat-damp shell of his ear, soothing where I’d bitten him. “When I don’t hold back. When I use your body only for me.”
“Yes,” he sobbed. “Yes, please…”
“And you’re still in your cage.” I eased my hand down to the base of it, pressing hard against his balls. “Not allowed to come. Just my tight little hole to use as I want.”
He cried out again, his body shaking hard beneath me.
I pushed myself up, sliding my thighs to either side of him, so I could increase my pace. Needing more, I dragged a nail down the center of his back, delighted in the goose bumps that decorated his skin.
“You going to leave me again, Wren?”
My voice was guttural, half threat, half prayer.
He didn’t answer fast enough.
So I gripped his hips tighter, digging my fingernails into the flesh so deep they’d leave marks for days. I pulled him back into another brutal thrust, slamming my cock into him with punishing force. He cried out, arching beneath me, his wrists straining against the silk ties.
