Page 87 of The Bratva's Nanny
When I was sure the view had enraptured her, I pressed myself against her, slid a hand up her dress, and pulled the slack of her thong.
She let out an astonished moan, her cheeks flushed through the reflection. “Roman…what are you doing?”
I peppered a long trail of kisses down her neck and began to work the belt around my pants. “About to fuck you, that’s what.”
Her chuckle reverberated on the glass, and she tried to push back. “You can’t be serious.”
“Is there ever a time when I’m not serious?”
One of my hands glided up her body, taking in the curve of her ass, before I slipped two fingers under her thong and began stroking her. She was slightly aroused.
“How well do you like this dress?”
“A lot,” came her shaky response.
“Then take it off.”
She was hesitant at first. Then, she obliged, releasing the strings across her neck and letting the dress pool to her feet. I kissed her bare shoulder, excited that today was her no-bra day.
“Roman,” she scolded with a whimper. I kept rubbing her folds and clit, circling it to get her wet enough. “What if…what if someone sees us?”
Her eyes flitted to me from the window with uncertainty. “Nobody can. Now, hands on the glass, Solnishko.”
The metal head of my belt clanged as it came undone, and I pushed my pants and briefs low enough to let my cock spring free. She stood on her tiptoes, arching her back so her ass was sticking in the air.
I laughed. “I’m not taking you from behind. I want to see your face when you come.”
She blushed. “Oh.”
Holding her waist, I hoisted her from the floor so she straddled me, positioned my tip at her slick entrance, and inched inside her.
She forgot everything when I kissed her. I forgot almost everything, too.
Everything but how I fucking burned for her—how I wanted to see her release herself on me.
I ran my fingers through her hair, sucked the skin on her neck, and pinched her tits.
Her arms flew around my neck, and she moaned.
With every slam, I sped up gradually, pushing her deeper against the glass.
“Roman…” she whimpered. “I love you.”
She made a small sound of frustration, and I kept up the torturously fast pace, rotating my hips until I was only teasing her with my tip. She rolled her hips for friction, driving my cock deeper into her.
Fuck.
This was going to be another one of those one-minute moments. I was fucking slipping. And I was slipping fast.
I pulled out and drove back in, the loud thump against the glass echoing in the room.
My head fell to her shoulder, and she bit her lip, her eyes filled with need. “Is this a quickie?”
I dipped my head to see my cock claiming her pussy, glistening with her juices, and it drove me farther over the edge. She could tell I was coming.
I rasped, “Yes.”
Balancing her weight up with one arm, I parted her wide, giving us both an even better view; then, I caressed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. My fingertips brushed the crease between her pussy and thigh, then her outer lip, before they circled her clit. She clenched and whimpered but didn’t come yet.