Page 46 of Baby for the Bratva King

I part my lips around his, feeling all of me, all of him. “Fuck me.”

“Is my Honeysuckle still hungry?”

“I fear she might never be sated.” I catch Felix’s gaze, and we share an intense exchange.

“Good,” he says, his eyes set back into his face, glowing under dark brows. “We can be insatiable together.”

He rips off the rest of his shirt, and I look down, noting the blood.

He’s not just a billionaire anymore. He’s a criminal, a murderer. He finds his safe haven by taking away other people’s.

I should hate him. I should be terrified. But I’m not any of those things.

If anything, I’m more invested. He has everything, and yet he’s so empty, so incomplete, still searching for the same things as me. And he has all the money in the world.

Perhaps we’re all doomed.

Felix removes his pants, his cock pressing against his black boxer shorts.

I hook my finger under the waistband, dragging them down. His cock falls out, hard and veiny. I lick my lips, salivating, letting my body carry me forward.

I straddle his lap, bending down to take him into my mouth.

“Bylat,” he grunts, cock immediately twitching in my mouth,

I lick my tongue up the vein, trailing it all the way down to the base. Flashing him a look, I continue the journey, licking his lean torso, his balls.

A choked grunt falls out of him when I lightly lick his sack.

This is my first proper time giving head, and I could do it forever. Felix has the most perfect cock. Even the skin around his shaft tastes like Bleu de Chanel. I take my time licking him and coating his entire length in saliva. It takes a while, seeing as though there’s so much of him, but I take my time.

I insert him back into my mouth, hands moving across the base, squeezing.

I focus on opening my throat, getting as much of him in as possible. Unfortunately, his cock is longer than the length of my neck, but I try my best to get most of him in.

I need him inside of my body, his presence making me feel less alone.

It was me and Fleur against the world before, but maybe it doesn’t have to be that way.

I glance up at Felix, his eyes hazed over admiration. He doesn’t look like an animal who wants to eat me. In fact, he looks like something else entirely. The stoic, unbothered mask is down, and I see the beauty underneath, the man behind the status.

He looks at me like art, the same way everyone else looks at him.

I continue working my mouth up and down, sliding my tongue over his sensitive tip. I come up for a breath when he grabs my shoulder, flipping our positions.

My head hits the pillow, mattress dipping as he rises over me. Shadows form, the space around me turning dark.

He opens my legs and thrusts straight in, taking it slow, giving me time to accommodate him.

I grip the burgundy bedsheets, hands squeezing the fabric as muscles stretch.

He’s the imprint and I’m the mold who moves around him.

“Fuck,” I groan, feeling another orgasm starting to unfold.

Felix grabs my hands, placing them on his shoulders instead. “Hold onto me,” he groans as he starts riding.

I wrap my legs around his hips, arching my back. Sweat beads down his forehead, dripping onto my lips.