A Very Bad Man – Russian Mafia Fairytale Read Online Joanna Blake

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 76915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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“Ohhhh… I…” I gasped, trying to form words. Finally, I was able to string together a sentence. “What about you?”

“What about me?” He asked, his eyes centered on my center. He started driving his finger in and out of my body, very slowly. It felt strange and wonderful, all at once. Kind of like the man himself.

“Do you need me to prepare you?”

He stopped moving, staring at me. I blinked at the stupefied look in his eyes.

“Anton?”

“No,” he said at last, his voice sounded strangled. “No, Mishka, I do not need you to prepare me.”

“Why not?”

“I have been prepared for this since the moment I laid eyes on you,” he said flatly. His eyes were boring holes into mine.

“You were?”

“Yes,” he said. “And if you attempted to prepare me anymore, I think I might not survive it.”

I blinked. Then I smiled.

“I will need to think more on this, Anton,” I said.

He stared at me for another long moment. His gaze narrowed suspiciously. He muttered ‘woman’ several times, before pushing me down and lifting my hips again. This time he settled a pillow beneath me and got to work.

He kept his word and took his time, working one finger inside me while he nuzzled my clit, then adding another finger, and another. I felt a tidal wave of sensation build inside me, then crash as I shuddered uncontrollably on the bed. But he was not finished. He brought me to completion at least twice more, though at that point, my orgasms had blended into a rolling sea of pleasure.

Only then did he slide off the bed. I watched as he removed his trousers, then the boxer briefs beneath them.

“Are you ready for me, little Mishka?”

He looked solemn. Eager. Devoted. The look on his face was fierce and protective, all at once. Like I was the answer to an unspoken question, a question he had been asking himself for a very, very long time.

I let my eyes wander over him. He was nude, his body beautiful, tanner than I might have expected, perhaps because he swam nearly every day in a heated saltwater pool at the estate. His broad shoulders and muscular chest angled pleasingly to a narrow waist and hips. His legs were like tree trunks. Strong, sturdy, and gorgeous. His skin was perfect, sprinkled here and there with warm brown hair.

But it was his manhood that caught, and held my attention, once I dared to look at it. It was nearly straight, curving ever-so-slightly upwards towards his belly. Like the rest of him, it was beautiful. Like the rest of him, it was overwhelmingly male. Like the rest of him, it was… quite large.

A low rumble made my eyes dart up to this face.

“Don’t be afraid of me, Mishka.”

“I’m not,” I said, holding his gaze proudly. “I am ready, Anton.”

“I love hearing you say my name,” he said, climbing onto the bed, onto me, with a smooth feline grace. His mouth took mine, before I felt his chest and body against me. He shifted his hips and suddenly there it was, pressing against me, seeking entrance. He reached down, still kissing me, and notched the tip just inside me.

Just that. Even that gentle entry felt so intense, there were no words for it. Then he moved, and there was nothing gentle about it.

He stopped kissing me and lifted his head. He watched me carefully as he pushed forward, his shaft stretching me, filling me. The feeling of fullness was overwhelming. This was nothing compared to him pulling my thighs apart.

I wasn’t merely exposed.

I was invaded.

But I wanted it. Craved it. Wanted the pressure. Wanted the silken heat of him. The weight of his body on mine. His breath against my neck. He leaned down and breathed into my ear, kissing my neck, before asking me again if I was ready.

I nodded shakily. There was no turning back. There had not been for days. Weeks. Maybe since that first moment when I fell at his feet in my father’s candy shop.

Maybe since the day I was born.

“Hold tight to me, Mishka.”

I reached up and gripped his shoulders. A moment later searing pain tore through me, as Anton tore through my maiden’s shield. I cried out in pain, squeezing my eyes shut. I wanted to push him away, but I did not. He was far too heavy and besides, he was kissing me over and over, wiping away my tears, holding me tenderly while the pain passed.

And it did. Far more quickly than I could have imagined.

The pain faded and was quickly replaced with something new. The urge to move. I shifted slightly, then let out a soft moan of pleasure.

“Careful…”

“Hmmm?”

I rocked my hips again and the sound of delight was harder to disguise. Anton cursed above me.

“Mishka… I will not be able to slow myself if you continue doing that…” he warned, an ominous look on his handsome face. He was worried about me, I realized. He was trying to be gentle with my body.



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