Sold To The Bratva Boss: An Instalove Older Man Younger Woman Possessive Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 193)

by Flora Ferrari

  “What exactly do you think’s going to happen here?” I mutter. “I mean, jeez … Look … I …”

  “Anna,” he says quietly.

  He walks up behind me and places his hands softly on my shoulders, more softly than I ever would’ve guessed a man of Artem’s size could touch somebody.

  “I know that this must be frightening for you, but I meant it when I said you’re mine. I’d never hurt you. So whatever you want to say, you can say it. You don’t have to be scared of me. Ever. I’ll protect you, always. If a dozen thugs came through that door right now and tried to hurt you, there’d be a dozen broken crumpled fucking bodies on the floor. You’re mine. And I’m a loyal man. I protect what’s mine.”

  I lean back into his embrace, feeling the security of his hands, giant powerful hands that feel capable of handling anything that life throws at them.

  “I just don’t want to be humiliated,” I whisper, feeling a weight lift off my chest. “You know I’m a virgin. And, well, what exactly do you think I’m going to do? I’ve been humiliated so many times in my life. Getting kidnapped, well, that was just the same. Hey, come to this restaurant and cook a taster dish for me. Maybe we’ll give you a job. And then I get there, and what happens? A black bag over my head and I’m dragged into the back of a truck.”

  I laugh and shiver at the same time, a curious combination. The laugh is grim.

  Artem squeezes my shoulders.

  “I’ll never let anything like that happen to you again, but you’re not going to be humiliated tonight, Anna. I don’t care that you’re a virgin. No, that’s not right. I do care. I fucking love it. When I saw you, I knew I had to have you. But when I heard you were a virgin, too, I knew I’d die if I didn’t have you. It’s too perfect.”

  “What’s perfect about it?” I rage, spinning and facing him. “The fact that when we get into the bedroom, I’ll have no idea what to do? Let’s face it, Artem. Let’s just be blunt about it.”

  Somehow, I feel able to speak up with Artem where I never did before. His words have caused a ricochet of confidence to move through me, a nascent sense of belonging I wish I could just sink into, grow with.

  And yet there’s this underlying whisper, too, that I’m just not good enough.

  “Let’s face it,” I go on, firmer now. “You’ve had experience, haven’t you? You’re one of the richest men alive. You’re really, really hot. You’re smart. You’re – well – you’ve got it all, Artem. You’ve probably had legions of women throw themselves at you.”

  “Legions?” he smirks, laughing lightly. “That’s a very fancy term.”

  “What?” I glare. “Avoiding the question?”

  “You’re right,” he growls, smoothing his hands down my body and pulling me close to him. “Women have thrown themselves at me over the years. Too many to count. Yes, it’s true. But it’s also true that I’ve turned down every woman who’s ever thrown herself at me.”

  “What?” I mutter bitterly. “Are you going to tell me you’re a virgin, too?”

  “I am,” he says, head held high, saying it with more pride than I could ever muster.

  I stare at him for a few moments.

  And then a few moments turns into about thirty seconds.

  I just keep staring, right into his eyes, trying to see if he’s lying.

  Before he told me that I was his, I would’ve laughed at the idea that I could read him. But now there’s this feeling inside of me, bubbling right up to the surface, telling me that I can read him if I let go of my fear and my self-doubt.

  Hard things to let go of, obviously, since they’ve been my comfort blankets since I was a kid.

  “Artem,” I whisper, licking my lips. “Do you realize how insanely difficult that is to believe?”

  He shrugs, squeezing onto my hips.

  Our bodies are smashed close now, his manhood a solid rod against my belly, begging to be touched. My sex flames at the proximity and deep inside of me my womb cries out to feel his touch, his seed, everything he has to give.

  “It’s the truth,” he says. “You’re right, Anna. I won’t lie to you. I could have had any number of women. But why? I knew that when I chose a woman, it would be to put my children inside of her. I wanted a queen. I wanted a companion. I wanted what I knew you were the moment I laid my eyes on you.”

  I draw in a bolstering breath, telling myself that this is the time, my moment to be brave.

  Then I reach up and take his face in my hands, staring at him. No, into him, the same way his penetrating eyes gaze into me.

  “Please, Artem, tell me you’re not lying.”

  “Never,” he says fiercely. “I am never going to lie to you, Anna. You don’t need to be nervous. Because this is going to be the first time for me, too. So let’s just let our bodies follow their instincts. That’s what we are, you and I, we’re fucking instinct. We’re lust and desire, and I’m fucking certain, certain that you’re my on—”

  “I’m your one,” I whisper, finishing his sentence. “I feel it, too. I felt it the second you jumped down from the balcony and gave me your jacket. And you’re right, Artem. It does make me feel less nervous. We can … explore together?”

  Suddenly, nerves jab at me.

  I bite my lip.

  Artem smirks and reaches over, smoothing his thumb along my lower lip.

  “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you look when you get all shy like that? Now, walk upstairs to your bedroom. I’ll follow behind. I want to watch that ass shifting for me as you walk. That big round perfect fucking ass.”

  “You don’t think I’m f—”

  “Shut your mouth.”

  “Woah,” I say, giggling. “Rude, much?”

  He smirks and slides his hands down to my ass cheeks, squeezing hard, pushing them together so the sensation spreads under my body to my sex. I feel my hole quivering and fluttering. I feel my clit getting hot and tight and tingly. I feel everything beginning to collapse in near-orgiastic celebration.

  For a moment, I think my pleasure is going to puncture right here, come flowing out of me like bubbling lava.

  “Yeah, it’s rude,” he says. “But I don’t give a damn. If you’re going to stand there and pretend your body is anything other than a curvy fucking treat sent straight from heaven, then I’ll be much more than rude, Anna. Your body, it’s … Fucking hell, it’s maternal and sexy at the same time, breasts made for sucking and for giving milk, hips made for grabbing while I ram you hard from behind, and for parting to make way for our children. You’re sex and motherhood combined. You’re mine. Now walk in front of me and shake that fucking ass. Now.”

  A tremor travels through me as I turn around and head for the door, moving my hips from side to side.

  That voice tries to tell me I’m being ridiculous again.

  I’m embarrassing myself.

  But then I look over my shoulder and see my giant Russian bear stalking behind me, his eyes fixated on my ass, one hand grinding up and down his concealed manhood, a solid outline in his pants.

  “You can’t wait?” I whisper.

  “Not much longer,” he says, voice tight, like he could erupt any moment.

  He follows me all the way to the bedroom.

  I walk toward the bed and hear the door close quietly behind me, not sure what to do next, not sure if I should lie on the bed or turn around or …

  But then my man – my man – is on me.

  He grabs my pants and pulls them down, causing me to squeal and fall forward, propping my hands on the bed with my ass sticking out, aimed at his face.

  “Oh, fuck,” he snarls, smoothing his hands over my cheeks. Goosebumps prickle me. “Stick your ass out. I need to see how pink and wet your pussy is when I peel these panties off.”

  Pleasure jabs at me as I do as he says, sticking my ass right out, feeling the tickling sensation of my panties rustling against me as he pulls them down around my ankles.

  He leans back, gazing at my sex, his whole
body tremoring from what I can see by looking over my shoulder.

  “Fuck. Ing. Hell. Your pussy is fucking soaked, Anna. It’s your womb telling you how badly you need this. And do you know how I said we should follow our instincts? Well, my instincts are telling me to eat this pink pussy until my mouth is filled with your thick cream. And I’m not about to ignore that urge.”

  I let out a squeal of pleasure as he pushes his face forward, his tongue lapping over my lips, skirting near my hole as his nose settles between my ass cheeks.

  There’s something dirty and beautiful and sexy about his nose being there, about him feeling comfortable enough to be that intimate with me.

  But of course he does.

  Because we’re freaking made for each other.

  He smooths his tongue up one side of my sex and then down the other, skirting close to my clit. I close my eyes and see red, like there’s an exploding sun imprinted on the insides of my eyelids.

  I hear a woman moaning and think for a second, Jesus, she sounds confident, she sounds sexy. And then I collapse back into my body and realize that I’m the one moaning.

  I’m the one who sounds sexy, which is something I’ve never been before.

  And yet it feels so natural with Artem.

  He grabs my ass cheeks as his tongue gets quicker, digging in his powerful fingers into my ample flesh. I feel another flare of self-consciousness, a bitter hate-filled voice telling me that I’m too curvy, I’m nowhere near a supermodel.

  But then I stamp it down and throw myself into the moment instead, pushing my sex toward his face.

  Toward his tongue.

  His tongue is made of fire.

  It spits hot embers at me and then, and then – oh fuck – and then he moves to my clit, attacking it like he’s trying to lick it off my pussy, licking it so fast that I can’t even feel any individual movement anymore. It’s like he’s taken a radiator and pressed it up against my pussy.

  Flames dance over and around me and I start moaning louder, more urgently, grinding myself against him over and over again.

  I twitch my hips, unable to stop myself, unable to let my thoughts still long enough for me to feel any shame.

  All I feel is desire.

  All I feel is need.

  For him.

  My man.

  “Ah,” I whimper.

  “Cream in my mouth,” he snarls, voice muffled with our closeness. “Cream. Now. Cream.”

  I have to bite down before I let out a scream that would tear the entire freaking estate down. I grip the silk sheets and starting twerking on his face, involuntarily as the reverberations of the ecstasy surge through me, contorting my body, making me dance with lust.

  I grind my ass cheeks against his face as my pussy feels like it’s opening up, as waves of gushing release squirt all over his face, and then I hear him swallowing, gulping, big noises that tell me he’s drinking every drop I have to give.

  “I need to see how shiny your ass gets with your own come,” he says.

  “Follow—your—instincts,” I moan through the pulsations of the orgasm.

  “My virgin fucking queen,” he growls.

  I turn my gaze just in time to see him suck in a giant mouthful of my squirting release and paint it onto my ass cheeks. He smooths the warm liquid across my skin, gazing at it like a master sculptor working on his magnum opus, his eyes wide in fascinated desire.

  “Fuck,” he snarls. “Jesus. I want to be a gentleman. I want to lie you on your back and treat you like the queen you are. But seeing your ass like that, I need to fucking pound you. I need to stare at that ass as I pound into that tight virgin pussy.”

  “Do it,” I cry as the last of the orgasm vibrates out of me. “Oh, God. Do it.”

  He stands up to his full height, looking like a predator rearing onto his hind legs, and then tears down his pants with one savage movement of his hand.

  My mouth falls open as my eyes drink in the size of him.

  Eleven inches of rock hard flesh bobs up and down. A dollop of precome glistens on the end of his cock, and his balls look big, heavy, like they’re swimming with his seed and he’s just barely holding himself back.

  Veins pulse up and down his length urgently.

  “I’ve waited forty-two years for this,” he says, voice catching with his effort to get the words out. “And it was worth every second. Jesus. Look at that eighteen year old virgin pussy. Beg me to fuck you, Anna. Beg me to fuck you hard. Now.”

  “Please,” I beg, wanting to beg, needing to beg. To please him. My pussy sizzles in anticipation. “Artem. I need you. I fucking need you, baby.”

  He strokes his hand down his cock, spreading the shining precome, and then guides his mammoth head to my ass cheeks and strokes it over them, smearing me with my come and his now, all mixing together warmly.

  “Back it up,” he moans, forcing each word out through his twisted lips, voice filled with animal desire. “Back that fucking pussy onto my cock. Do it slowly. Do it now.”

  I lean back, whimpering as the head of his cock slides down and parts the lips of my hole, brushing them aside as I lean even further back.

  He stares down as his cock slowly, temptingly sliding inside of me, inch by blistering inch.

  He slides his hands over my ass and then up my back, curling one hand through my hair and placing the other on my shoulder.

  “Fuck,” he snarls. “I can’t hold myself back anymore. I’m just a fucking beast, Anna. When you strip it all away, I’m a fucking animal. And it’s time I let it out, after all these years. It’s time I fucked you like the fucking feral bastard I am.”

  “Ah,” I cry, when he pushes himself in the rest of the way.

  My tight pussy clings onto his cock as he holds himself inside of me.

  I feel a prick of sweet pain deep inside of me, right at the end of his length, and as the seconds lengthen my heart starts to hammer at the back of my throat.

  Anxiety surges through me.

  Oh no.

  Oh God no.

  He’s too big.

  Artem must sense this flickering trepidation inside of me, because he begins to rock back and forth slowly, pushing in and then out of me in small movements.

  I feel my body responding, my womb sending soothing motions through every one of my nerves, waves of relaxation washing through me as his manhood presses against the walls of my pussy.

  I feel something burst inside of me, like an overripe fruit gushing out its sweet promise.

  And then the stinging sensation is pushed aside by the most capturing feeling I’ve ever experienced, an all-body surge of euphoria that causes me to open my mouth and let out a shivering moan.

  “Oh. Fuck. Oh-my-fucking-God.”

  My words come out in a rush as Artem slides his blistering length out of me and then pommels it back in, his hard abs smashing into my ass cheeks and pressing them flat.

  I grip the sheets and start to bounce with his movements, his fingers dragging across my scalp, a buzzing sensation that adds to the swirling mass of pleasure.

  I bounce and let out a moan, the wetness of our colliding bodies filling the room with its vivid sound.

  I look over my shoulder and see that Artem’s face is contorted in lust, his lips twisted to the side, the same glimmer of curiosity and fascination in his eyes that I feel deep inside of me as I sink into this utterly new, utterly wonderful pleasure.

  We’re doing this together.

  I’m taking his virginity.

  And he’s taking mine.

  That thought propels me into a land of confidence, where I don’t feel foolish for bouncing even harder up and down his cock, savoring the sensation of his thickness pushing against my pussy, bulging outwards as he slams into me with each motion.

  We guide each other.

  We flow into it together, finding a rhythm that best suits both of us.

  We smash our bodies together and inside of me I hear my womb crying out in want, begging for his seed
. I imagine her with her hands aimed at the sky, screaming for it to rain, to rain his hot come, for it to spread through me and touch every part of me.

  “You’re getting tighter,” Artem snarls, pushing the words out. “Fucking—come, Anna. Come now because I can’t fucking hold on any—”

  We both make animal noises at the same time, the collision of our bodies becoming a natural motion, like gravity, something neither of us could stop now even if we wanted to.

  My attention spears to the orgasm bubbling up at the very top of my pussy, a ball of hot pleasure just waiting to be released.

  And then it all gushes out of me and I press my legs together, squeezing onto his cock, wanting to feel every quiver inside of him. I can feel his veins pulsing as my orgasm makes me scream, scream as loud as I fucking can.

  Because in this moment I’m not invisible.

  I’m not the nobody.

  I’m not the shy girl or the ignored girl or the too-curvy girl.

  And I’m definitely not a virgin.

  No, I’m Artem Elgort’s woman.

  I’m the one who belongs to him.

  And him to me.

  And my orgasm is like a crescendo as he tugs at my hair and I throw my head back and howl like a madwoman.

  I’m mad, yes, yes, I’m mad with the lust swarming through me.

  Artem growls like a beast as his body collapses forward, his muscular torso lying flat against mine, both of us gasping in frantic breaths as his cock shoots load after load of his seed inside of me.

  I feel him, pumping, firing.

  I feel his seed swimming deep inside of me and finding my womb.

  And as the first seed finds its home, a kissing shiver clatters through me.

  Goosebumps prick my neck, my throat, my everything.

  “I can feel you,” I gasp, reaching up and grabbing his face, moving so that we’re cheek to cheek, his growling breaths painting me in fiery heat. “I can feel our babies, Artem. Oh, God. Can you?”

  “Of course I fucking can,” he says, kissing my neck, biting me softly. “It’s the best feeling in the goddamn world.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Artem

  The next morning, I sit in the kitchen with Rocky bounding around at my feet, his tongue lolling happily out of his mouth. I glance down at him and can’t help but smirk, feeling sex-sore for the first time in my life.