EroticReverie

Lavender

“Yes Maks” I breathe with my back arches , his mouth on my breasts as his cock fills me again and again. 

We’d barely made it upstairs , our clothes left

I’m a trail from the front door to our bedroom and I scream for him, clawing at his back as he curses and growls at me in Russian and I cum hard on his cock as I scream, becoming a fucking puddle of bones and flesh as I melt from my orgasm.

His hands jerk me and flip me onto my stomach. His hands on mine as he holds them down. His fingers slipped through my own as he keeps fucking me. His hips slapping against my ass and his cock drilling me so hard and I’m thankful for the cushion of my ass preventing him from giving me absolutely all of him. He was already pounding against the deepest parts of me and ever since he’s learned about me killing Slev. The man couldn’t help himself. Knowing his “pretty little loose end” was now undoubtedly his loyal wife and would kill for him, well. That was a permanent aphrodisiac for him. 

Word had spread about the purple haired woman who’d taken it upon herself to murder the man who’d betrayed her husband. While other like Maksim who sat atop of the Bratva had no issues with the fact they were down a traitor, there were still others that weren’t fond of the fact that a woman had killed one of their own. An American woman. Which had conspiracies spreading like wild fire among the weaker of their men. That I was some sort of American spy prostitute sent to corrupt Maksim. It was ridiculous and made no sense.  The men higher up knew that. But it didn’t matter. Some still weren’t keen on the idea that a woman who should’ve been buried in an unmarked grave with her thieving ex lover , had fallen in love with a Bratva man and ended up with a ring on her finger soon after. 

Sometimes I wish they could see the way we fuck. The way we make make love. And there would be no fucking question that I was clearly

The corrupted one. That I was putty in Maksims hands. That I’d never let any harm come to him. That I’d fight till my last breath for the man who fucking crashed into my life and stole me as his own. 

“Maks” I cry his name as my pussy soaks his cock again and he growls back at me. 

“Lavender, moy angel smert” 

Lavender. My angel of death. It’s what he’s been calling me. Even though I only had the blood of one man staining my hands.  It didn’t matter. He’d told me the photos of me soaked in blood , while I’d look traumatized , that the darkness and anger and the vacant stare in my eyes …”you’ve never looked more beautiful” he murmurs in my ear. “Than when you’re covered in revenge for me”