My rational brain knew Artem was huge. I had coffee with this man every weekday morning for a year. I’ve looked at what he’s packing. Of course I noticed.
What I did not know was how he would feel inside of me, and holding me. His muscled, tattooed bulk protects me in a way I can’t explain. I’m filled to bursting. I’m smothered by him, pressed into the wall, sandwiched between immovable objects.
And I want more.
Even as I float back to earth after a life-changing orgasm, I need this again. I crave seeing him come, lose control. I want my deadly mafia boss to be unable to hold himself aloof, to wreck him like he has me. It’s just the two of us in this locked office lined with shelves of books and dark windows, and I love him so damn much, I’m never letting him go. He’ll be lucky if I allow him to leave the house after all that’s happened.
“Lina,” he breathes, grabbing my arse and holding me to him, remaining firmly and deliciously wedged inside of me as he carries my not-inconsiderable weight as though I were a doll. He pushes past the doors I ran through, and takes me back to the bedroom we started in, settling me gently onto the bed and covering me with his body.
I have so many conflicting urges. I can’t wait to see his naked body, I still need to see all his tattoos, but I love how he’s so desperate to fuck me that we’re both still fully clothed. So when he braces his forearms either side of my head and pins me with his cock and his hips as he rolls into me, I grip his shoulders and dig my heels into his buttocks, urging him on, faster and deeper as pleasure spins from my core.
“Come inside me,” I say before I’ve processed the thought.
He said something about breeding me, and I’m desperate for that. I need to tie him to me in every way, even if that’s probably not needed. I have a feeling Artem will never let me out of his sight again.
“You want that?” he grinds the words out, a rumble of sound.
“So much.” I want to feel him unravel. “Pound into me. Take everything and more.”
He groans.
“I mean it.”
“Fuck. Little kisa, are you trying to make me rut you into the mattress? Give you friction burns? Bruises?”
“Yes.” I want his marks and to wake up and know this wasn’t a dream because there’s physical evidence in the form of every pinprick of hurt that amplifies the pleasure. “All of that.”
“I’ll come inside you, and I won’t let that come out. I swear, if you’re not pregnant after a week, I will dedicate myself to fucking you every two hours each day until you can’t walk. I’ll make sure you’re pregnant, then I’ll look after you, and our children. You have my ring on your finger.”
I’d forgotten about that. The beautiful sapphire that he gave me.
“Marry me.” He thrusts and it’s like he’s invaded me and drawing out all these sensations I didn’t realise I could have. Sparking, spinning, bubbling pleasure radiates out from where he’s stroking into me. “Marry me.”
I grip him even harder.
“Say yes, Lina. You’re going to be my wife.”
“Yes. Yes, always yes.” I’d beg for it, he doesn’t need to ask. I’d crawl on my hands and knees across broken glass and fire if I could be his wife afterwards. If this dream where he is making me feel so good, impaling me on his cock, would never end.
I thought, having used my fingers, that I kinda knew what sex would be like.
I didn’t.
It’s so much better. He’s hot, and smooth, and unlike the fateful night that he discovered me touching myself, there is absolutely no way he’s missing the spot. He’s also everywhere, above me, in me. It’s not just my pussy, it’s a whole-body experience. His skin is warm and soft as a silk-covered rock left in the sun and only enhanced by his rough stubble that scrapes at my cheek as he kisses me. It’s all so different from using a toy. He’s reverent and disrespectful at the same time, using my body and worshipping it.
And his words.
His words melt me. He tells me over and over again how I’m his good girl, and tight and perfect. How he’ll want me every morning and every night until eternity. He tells me he loves me, and fucking loves me, and fucking loves me so much, more than life itself and he’d do anything for me. How he can’t wait for us to be married and for me to carry his baby. For us to have as many children as I want and that he’ll protect and cherish us all. Me, our kids. Our family.
And all I do is whimper and listen and try to get him even closer. Like I could have him so deep in me I don’t know where he ends, and I begin.
I’ve never had a real family, or someone who loves me without restraint or condition. And Artem does, I know it for certain. He’s obsessed, a little crazy, but earlier today he gave me a gun and told me that what I wanted was more important than his life.
If that’s not love, I don’t want whatever tepid thing love is. I want Artem.
With every thrust sparks of pleasure shower through me. It’s like I’m a firework, lit by his every movement. It’s sweet and sharp, and though I teased him, no toy could be as perfect as he is. He’s stuffing me overfull, pushing at the edges of what I can take and stretching me further than I ever thought possible. I love it as he hits the limit of me, so deep inside it’s as though he’s thrusting up to my heart.
“You have to come again,” Artem demands. “Can you do that for me, kisa?”
My brain is stuttering. I can’t speak. Come again?
Artem growls.
I’m filled with him and it’s heaven but—
Then I’m empty.
“No!”
“Yes.” Artem shoves me up the bed and buries his head between my thighs, licking me like a man possessed.
It’s a shock. Having him inside me was delicious, tingling, and sweet, but this is insistent. He’s telling me with his mouth that I’m his and I have to do as he says, even if that’s coming when I think I’m finished.
He threatened punishment for my disobedience in not keeping myself safe, as he instructed. This is it.
The echo of his cock is still in my pussy, and he’s giving me no space for anything but extreme pleasure, dragging me up the mountain, sucking my clit.
I writhe, and he clamps down on my thighs, holding me down firmly.
“Be a good girl for me,” he says, and the words are muffled because he doesn’t let up. His tongue is too much, too intense. Then he tosses me off the top of the cliff, and I’m flying. I sob and thrash. I cry out.
“That’s it,” he purrs.
While I’m still coming, he pulls me forward and thrusts back inside me in one smooth stroke. Another pulse of orgasm takes me, even stronger now.
“I love you so much.” He grabs my hair and holds me in place. “You’re my world.”
I’ve never felt anything like this as he kisses my mouth. I can taste myself, and he’s prolonging my pleasure well beyond the point of sanity.
“I’m going to breed you.”
“Please,” I beg. “Sir.”
His silver irises are dark with emotion as he shudders above me, never letting go as he fills me with his seed in pulse after pulse. I watch each moment of his orgasm ravenously. Every rolling, heated shake of his body as he empties into me. He’s gorgeous like this.
My future husband. The man who’ll be the father of my children. My love. And I know beyond doubt that he loves me too.
