Bratva Beast by B.B. Hamel

14

Mack

I practically dragged her into the house.

She was quiet on the ride back, but I knew what she wanted. I tasted it when she kissed me, felt it in her breathing and the way she met my eyes and asked me to take her home.

I felt it in my hands when I cupped her ass and pulled her against me, let her feel my stiffening cock.

I knew what she wanted.

Oblivion.

All the pain, gone.

She needed it so desperately, maybe as desperately as I did.

I shut the door behind her and left the lights out.

She drifted in toward the living room then turned back to me, biting her lip. She wore a black top, loose and low-cut, tucked into a pair of tight black jeans with rips on the knees. She reached up and took down her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders. The red tips swayed against her back and shoulders, like paintbrushes dipped in blood.

I approached slowly.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about why I’ve been so willing to destroy my life to keep you safe,” I said, speaking softly.

She backed up into the couch and stared at me, plump lips parted. “Yeah? And why’s that?”

“It’s because of that first night. I didn’t want to kill you, but I decided you needed to live when I made you come.”

“Seems like a bad reason to let your world burn.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. I’ve been a bad man, princess. I’ve been a very bad man and I have certain tastes. I think you might share them.”

“Might share them?” She tilted her head, mouth hanging open now. “What do you mean?”

I got closer, looming over her. God, she was so small.

So easily broken.

Snapped and destroyed.

But that was all a show. She wasn’t delicate, not at all. I knew what she was made of: concrete and cinders. Fire and rock.

I tilted her chin up to look into my eyes.

“Can you give me what I want?” I whispered and felt a surge of longing in my core, like something unwinding after being bound up for years.

“I don’t know,” she said biting her lip hard. “I think I want to.”

I kissed her then. Gently, my tongue probing between her teeth, tasting her and teasing her. I wanted to be tender, to ease her into this next part—

In all my years, through all the dark days of my training, during all the kills and all the lonely nights, one lesson kept coming back to me, again and again.

There was never good without bad. No pleasure without pain.

No bitter without sweet.

Life was a series of opposites, an undulating march from one extreme to the next.

And I’d found that combining opposites could make for the most intense experiences imaginable.

Hot to cold. Joy to sorrow.

Pleasure to pain. Fear to orgasm.

I reached up and grabbed hold of her hair. She let out a soft moan. I didn’t pull tight—not yet. I tipped her further back, bending her over the couch ever so slightly, just enough to cause some discomfort as my other hand moved down her throat, pausing over her pulse—the quick patter of her nervous throbbing hard beneath my fingertips—before going down to her breasts, the nipples hard enough to poke through her bra, down her stomach, until I could untuck her shirt.

She didn’t resist. I almost wished she would.

“Is this what you mean?” she asked when I kissed her throat. “You want this?”

“Not only this.” I pulled her shirt up and over her head, tossing it down onto the floor, then stepped back far enough to look at her.

Fucking incredible. Smooth stomach, pale skin, breasts spilling out of a bra that was slightly too small.

My blood boiled for her.

But not yet. I had to keep calm, keep controlled.

Control first. Then I could release.

“What else?”

“If I wanted sex, I could find it anywhere.”

She glared at me, struggled slightly. I grabbed her wrist and held her in place. “I don’t need to hear that, asshole.”

“It’s the truth. If all I wanted was to fuck, I could go fuck some wet hole. But that’s not what you are to me, Fiona.”

“Good to know I’m more than some toy.”

“Oh, you’re much more.” I kissed her throat—then bit her. Softly, not hard enough to break skin.

But hard enough to make her flinch.

“What do you want then? Why are you ruining yourself for me?”

“For a long time, I thought there was only one way to live. Only the Morozovs, only the family.” I tightened my grip on her hair as my other hand explored her breast, moving in under her bra to tease her nipple, then back around to unhook it. When it came loose, she let it drop down onto the floor.

Her bare chest sent ripples of agony through me. My cock strained against my pants and it took all of my willpower to keep myself from taking her then and there. I teased her pink, hard nipple, and bit her lower lip hard.

She gasped with pain.

“And now? What changed?”

“You did. You showed me there’s more to life than the gun. There’s more than pain. There’s pleasure too, and for so long I denied myself pleasure.” I glanced past her at my empty living room—at my empty kitchen, my empty bedroom, my empty life.

I was a shell of a man, a weapon for Evgeni.

Until I met Fiona, at least. Until she came on my fingers and looked at me like I was a conquering god, like I was a devil sent to bend her to my will, like I was a demon with a magic cock and all she wanted in this world was to bend down onto her knees and suck me off until my seed dribbled down her chin.

I wanted that look again so badly it hurt.

“I don’t know how I can be that for you.”

“Don’t worry, princess. All you have to do is let me worship you. I can give you the pleasure you crave and take my own in the process. All you have to do is give yourself to me.”

“I can do that,” she whispered, half moaning, as my hand moved up from her breast and wrapped around her throat.

“All you have to do is feel my pleasure, Fiona.” I squeezed slightly, pressing down on her pulse. “All you have to do is die for me.”

She was my reason. For all my life, I thought only Evgeni and the Morozov family could give me meaning, could make my life worth something.

But not anymore. Now I could see something else, something better.

And all she had to do was give herself to me.

I leaned forward, my lips against her throat. “I’ll stop if you ask me to,” I whispered. “Only say the word ‘tomorrow’ and I’ll let you go.”

Her eyes went wide, and there was that spike of pure fear as my fist in her hair finally tightened and pulled, and my hand around her throat squeezed.

* * *

Fiona

He was going to kill me.

I could see it in his eyes. Death and destruction and a void, a deep black void in his heart.

He was a killer.

I knew it that night when his fingers slid inside my pussy. I knew it when I came for him and felt so ashamed, so wrong—and more aroused than I ever had before.

He was the darkness I’d craved for so long.

I couldn’t breathe. My skull burned where he pulled my hair. I thought he was going to strangle me and there was nothing I could do. I pushed back against him, shoved with both my hands, and he instantly released my neck. I sucked in a breath and stared at him with fear and desire warring through my body.

I understood what he meant. One simple word would end this and he’d walk away.

He stopped before. Even though he said he wouldn’t stop again—I knew that wasn’t true.

He wanted to worship me. But he wanted me to die first.

Wasn’t that what happened to all the Greek goddesses? I could be like Persephone in the Underworld. He was my ferryman, taking me to a place where I didn’t have a mind anymore.

Where I didn’t have to think.

If that was what he needed, then I’d give it to him. I’d die for him, again and again.

The little death. No tomorrow.

I dropped to my knees and fumbled with his belt. He let out a soft grunt as I finally got it off. He helped unbutton his jeans, and I unzipped him, pulled them down, and finally slipped his cock from his boxer briefs.

He was thick and stiff, so hard that it felt like granite in my palm. I stroked him slowly, not sure what I was doing—I didn’t have much experience.

I went by feel, by instinct. I listened to his breathing.

He reached down and teased my nipple as I licked him, tasted his skin, his precum on the tip leaving a long trail to my lips. I looked up at him as he ran a thumb down my mouth then grabbed my hair again.

“Open your lips.”

I obeyed. He wanted me to die? I’d die for him then.

He pressed his cock into my mouth and deep into my throat.

I gagged, but he didn’t stop. I couldn’t breathe and tears came to my eyes—and only then did he pull back. Spit and drool clung to his shaft and he let out the most gorgeous moan I’d ever heard.

He did it again, cock in my mouth, then released me. I pulled back, gasping, then sucked him. I could barely fit half his shaft, but I tried anyway, wanting to feel him hit the back of my throat, wanting to choke, wanting that stab of fear.

The fear made the pleasure so much better.

I realized in that moment, down on my knees, just why that orgasm that night had been so incredible.

I was terrified of him that night.

And I had to be terrified of him again if I wanted to feel that way.

Which wasn’t hard. He pressed me down deep and I gagged, moaned, pulled back. I stroked him fast with both hands.

He pulled me to my feet by my hair and dragged me over to the wall. He shoved me hard against it and I gasped when my head hit. He smirked as he took off his shirt.

His body was muscular and lean, covered in snaking tattoos along his flesh. His cock glistened with my spit, massive and gorgeous.

He dropped to his knees in front of me and tugged down my jeans, unpeeling me slowly, stripping me naked. He kissed me from my navel down to the top of my stubble-slick pussy. He slipped a finger down along my folds and I knew it came back wet.

He sucked the juice and smirked as he spread me wide.

“You’re not scared enough yet, princess,” he whispered as he slid two fingers inside of me. “Do I need to make it hurt more?”

“God no,” I said, moaning. I tilted my head back and looked up at the ceiling.

He plunged his fingers deeper then swapped out for his tongue. He lapped me up, licking me and sucking me hard, using his teeth to tease my swollen clit. I tried to grab his hair, but he pinned my wrists against my sides.

I tried to get away but he shoved me back hard. I sucked in a breath in surprise—

Then he plunged his fingers in me, fucking me with them fast and he licked my clit, and I felt a shiver on my spine. My back arched, moans wrenched themselves from my lips, and I came in a sudden, wild spray of intense pleasure. He kept going, lapping me up, enjoying his feast, and I stared down at his shining lips and eyes when he finished, licking me off his fingers.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “Oh my god. I didn’t know I could come that fast.”

He laughed and stood then grabbed my hair. I gasped as he pulled me from the wall. He wasn’t gentle and I tried to push him away—it hurt like hell. He slapped my wrists and threw me down onto the couch.

“Spread your legs,” he said, stroking himself like a monster.

I shook my head.

I didn’t want to obey. I wanted him to make me.

He grinned, like he understood.

“I’ll ask one more time. Spread your legs, let me see your dripping cunt.”

“No,” I said.

“So you’re going to get yours, but I can’t have mine? That’s very selfish. You’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”

“Fuck you. I thought you wanted to kill me?”

His eyes brightened even more. “I still do, princess. But first I want to use your body. I want to fuck your pussy until you’re spread wide and bleeding, and only then will I let you come. I want to fill your ass and leave you limping for weeks. I want to suck your nipples, bite your tongue, make you ride me until I’ve had my fill. I want to take you, little princess.”

“God, you’re so full of shit. All you do is talk.”

He grinned huge and stopped stroking himself. He knelt down in front of me and I crawled on my back away from him. He grabbed my ankle and yanked hard and I gasped. I tried to kick him, but he knocked my other foot away and wrenched my knees open.

I sat up, slapping at him, but he grabbed my wrist and shoved me back down on the couch. I felt his cock, his thick, massive tip against my soaked opening, teasing my folds.

I struggled but he held me down with one massive hand. With the other, he reached down between my legs and roughly plunged two fingers inside.

“Go ahead and struggle,” he whispered. “I think we both like it.”

“Fuck you.”

He pressed his cock against me and shoved my legs wider. He moved his other hand up and shoved two fingers into my mouth—forcing me to taste my own arousal.

I moaned, my pussy juice on my tongue, as he shoved his cock inside of me.

I gasped, back arching. It hurt, god, it hurt. He wasn’t gentle about it, wasn’t kind or slow, wasn’t trying to let me get used to his size first.

He took me, like he said I would.

I moaned with his fingers still in my mouth. I bit him hard and he grunted, pulled them back, then grabbed my hair. He pulled it roughly and fucked me, slow, rough strokes, making my body, my breasts shake with each movement.

Pain, so much pain, as he ripped me open—but that pain was laced with a strange, wild pleasure.

The joy of being controlled and dominated.

There was no escape for me. Unless I said that word, he’d take me, no matter how hard I fought.

And I decided to fight. I slapped at him, clawed at him, and he roared with joy as he shoved me down hard then ripped his cock from me. I gasped in shock as he turned me around, putting me on my belly, and pinned my arms behind my back.

He fucked me roughly from behind, wrists locked on the small of my back.

“God, I love this tight little cunt. Have you ever been fucked like this before? You’re in heaven right now, I can see it in your eyes. You fight like that because you love how it feels to struggle, but every stroke brings you close. You want to come again, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” I moaned, because yes, god, yes, he was right, I wanted to come.

I had that word on the tip of my tongue.

I wouldn’t use it. There was no tomorrow for me.

He fucked me faster, massive cock spreading me wide, pummeling me, making me his. He pinned me there and growled as sweat dripped down his body, down my back. He licked it up, tasting the skin between my shoulder blades, and I gasped as my back arched.

He hit something deep in my core, his thick tip brushing up against some spot of pleasure I didn’t know I even had—

And pain finally relented and the pure ecstasy was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.

I came in a blinding flash. My mouth opened to scream, but he shoved his fingers inside of it again. I gasped and the sudden shock of it only made my orgasm that much more intense. I shook with it, ravished and wild beyond belief, and he didn’t slow down. He was an animal taking his kill.

I died a little death. I came in a massive wave. I begged his name, almost pleading, almost crying, and the orgasm wouldn’t relent until finally, finally, it slowly ebbed and left me a drooling mess on the couch, breathing hard.

He purred like a lion over a carcass and pulled himself back out.

“Not done yet,” he whispered, standing next to the couch. He pulled my head up and I opened my mouth—

He filled me with his cock. I licked myself off him, let him fuck my mouth, moaning until he came down my throat. I sucked him then, taking over as his orgasm washed him away. I licked him clean, every single inch of him, and swallowed his cum greedily.

When I finished, I collapsed back onto the couch in his black house, breathing hard, sweat beading between my breasts.

He knelt down beside me and licked the sweat away then held me. He stayed there on his knees, holding my body in his arms, and cradled me close.

He looked up and there was pure longing and worship in his eyes.

I didn’t know I could make someone feel like that.

The realization broke something in me then and I began to sob.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” I said as I cried. “This isn’t because of the sex. I’m so sorry.”

He held me and said nothing, his arms strong and comforting. I sobbed against him, feeling like I could finally breathe after years and years of living under water.

I hadn’t known I could make someone feel good. That was a power I thought was lost to me.

But Mack looked at me like I was the only thing in this entire world, and that emotion suffused me with an incredible glow.

Like waking up to a cool morning after a long, perfect sleep.

My crying broke off after a little bit. He didn’t question me about it, only stood and took me by the hand. His cock was still half hard—I wondered if he wanted more, and based on the way he looked at me, I thought yes, probably—and took me into his bedroom.

He put me under the covers and climbed in next to me.

“You’re safe now,” he whispered and pulled me close. “You’re my goddess. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

I felt him stiffen against my ass, and I smiled.

That was a power I’d never give up.

A power only he could give to me.

I felt warm, and eventually drifted off to sleep.