Korol grew up in a life of abuse and poverty. By the age of 20 he'd easily taken down every enemy in his path for power. After years of bloodshed and chaos, he'd become the leader of the Russian mafia. Known simply by the alias King or the Mad Russi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
King's POV
"Lynn, be careful! You could hurt y-"
"I'm fine. Shut the fuck up and lie back asshole..."
I knew better than to argue with her. I sat there powerless as she unzipped my pants. She smirked at me as she slipped her hand onto in my pants releasing me. She stroked me a few times before cocking her head to the side then lowering it towards my cock. Instead of giving me what I wanted to she decided to tease me. She swirled her tongue around me. Then with just the tip of her tongue she started to spell something...
M-I-N-E
She looked up at me and all I could do was nod. It must have been enough to make her happy because she finally placed my mushroomed tip into her mouth before going all the way down to my base.
"BLYAD" (FUCK) I hissed before she moaned around me sending electricity straight to my balls. "Blya, detka! Prosto tak" (Fuck, baby! Just like that)
She bobbed, and sucked her cheeks in while digging her nails into my thighs. It was an mind shattering mixture of pleasure and pain. The way she knew my body gave me chills. She was right. It's hers.
All of it. All of me. All that I was, am, or will ever be is hers.
She popped me out of her mouth but continued to stroke me.
"Il mio re piace così?" (Italian: Does my King like that?)
FUCK
She hardly ever spoke Italian to me so when she did...it just did something to me. It reminds me of when I watched her with Melissa back at my club. The way she locked eyes with me even while completely controlling someone else's body. She radiated power and dominance. I was never one for being submissive but fuck if I didn't enjoy watching her do it to others.
"Da! Blya da!" (Yes! Fuck yes!)
"Promettimi qualcosa..." (Italian: Promise me something...)
I could barely think straight and she wanted me to make her a promise? God she's good. She knows I'll agree to anything when she swallows me the way she does.
"Promettimi...la tua regina...che non mi urlerai mai davanti agli altri." (Italian: Promise me...your Queen...that you will never yell at me in front of others.)
How the fuck was I supposed to say yes to that? She knows me well enough to know I can't control when I get angry. She must have known what I was thinking because she slowed her movements.
