Caitlyn's POV

It isn't big-it is huge. And that is only semi-hard. How much bigger can it even get?

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dries up. My gaze drifts to the tip of his cock, which is already glistening with pre-cum.

Very sensitive!

He clicks his tongue, amusement flickering in his hazel eyes, wagging his finger, "Tsk. You're staring, doc."

Then, sharper, "Hands. Mouth. Now."

And that's when it registers with me- I am already too far gone.

What the hell has gotten into me?

I don't know what kind of ghouls have possessed me, but I find my hands reaching out to touch his now fully hard dick, tensing at the way it throbs with my mere touch as I try to wrap both my hands around the thick shaft, as that is the only way I could get his dick wrapped up-I mean, the whole fucking length.

With both hands! Crazy right?

I gulp hard as I stare down at the head that is glistening with pre-cum.

"Lick the tip, bitch. And use your hands too," he hisses those dirty words that made my pussy drip instead of knocking me back to my senses. And that's when I realise how much I need to have his cock deep down my throat, choking me.

Without hesitation, I move my face closer to the cock before spitting on it, rubbing the saliva all over it using my fingers. I had watched this in a few porn videos and even practised it using a makeshift dildo, but not in my grandmother's memory had I envisioned I would be giving a blowjob this soon, especially with one of my patients inside a prison cell!

I pepper sloppy kisses down his length.

"Fuck...that feels so good... you're doing great, baby." I hear him mutter under his breath, and taking that as a compliment, I dart my tongue out, licking his salty pre-cum before sucking the tip of his cock.

I am definitely going insane! And out of my mind too! But this too... feels heavenly.

I spit on the older man's bobbing cock a bit and bobbed my head, my movements smoother this time, but I bet it felt better for him too, as I heard him utter some incoherent curses under his breath, definitely in pleasure.

"Take all of me into your fucking mouth already," his fingers suddenly dig into my hair, pulling me down onto his cock, and choked noises spew out of my lips while moisture stings out of my eyes.

Out of survival instincts, my hands slap his thighs, trying to slap him away, but I am too weak to move him.

If I were capable of reasoning at this point, I would yell at him, but I have lost the ability to think.

My lips part, spreading wide to let his huge, thick cock into my mouth, stretching out the sides of my mouth. Despite my mouth hurting, my pussy is definitely having an entirely different opinion; it is unmistakably enjoying the intrusion.

"You little slut has a tight mouth," he groans, and his hand pulls my head again, driving his dick deep into my throat. He keeps it there until tiny beads of sweat begin to form on my forehead as I try to pull my face back with a grunt that comes out more like a moan.

"How small is your mouth, bitch?" he sneers, his gruff voice sending streaks of heat through me.

He moves to pull me back to his dick, but I tighten my grip on his thighs as I look up to his cold eyes, and as if getting my quiet plea, he lets me take the lead.

I squeezed his dick in my hand, jerking him off before dragging my tongue to the tip of his cock and letting it linger at the spot where I definitely know it is sensitive.

"Holy shit, suck on it and there...Yeah, lick it like you mean it," he growls, tilting his head back in absolute pleasure.

I like the taste of his pre-cum, I enjoy the way this thick, veiny cock feels under the mercy of my tongue, and the way my pussy throbs from the feeling of having power over this man, the way his fingers are pulling my hair.

A soft, uncensored moan slips out of my lips before I can muff it up.

"Getting off from having my dick in your mouth? Never took you for a dirty slut," he taunts.

"Get those lean long fingers to my ball and play with them," he orders, and my free hand slides down to his balls, matching the rhythm of my bobbing head.

"Aaaargh," he lets out a groan, unable to control himself, before he yanks my head back, gets on his feet, and slaps my face with that huge cock, "Beg me to fuck your mouth," a moan echoes in the air as my pussy grows slicker with my juices.

"Please fuck my mout..." I moan.

"Nah! That's too plain. Beg for my cock like the fucking little dirty slut you are. Again what do you want me to do to your mouth?"

"I...I want you to fill my mouth with your dick." I find myself uttering those words that even stun me. "P...Please, Daddy."

"Urggh! Perfect, what I was looking for, little butterfly."

Little butterfly?

I like it, I fucking adore it, but I have no time to relish my new nickname before he rams his huge cock at my lips. Over and over again.

Tears sting my eyes as they roll down my face, joining the mixture of drool and pre-cum that runs down my chin and neck as he steadily thrusts in and out of my mouth.

And when I thought I was on the verge of passing out, he slides out enough to allow me to take a breath, but I don't even get a whiff of it before he slams in again, more violently than before.

I try not to think about what is happening between my legs, my coochie is clenching, begging for his cock to drive inside it and tear it apart as I beg him for more.

"Is this just how tight your cunt is?" He sneers, pulling out before slamming back again. And if he isn't holding my head, I would be rolling over from the intensity.

I can't imagine having him inside my tight virgin pussy.

Caitlyn's POV

"Ease up for me slut. Your mouth is fucking small for my dick," and with those words, I submit, opening my mouth wide, my jaws fucking hurt, my panties grow warm with my juices that drip more with those dirty words, which I surprisingly like and enjoy more by being treated like a filthy whore.

"I'm gonna cum down this goddamn throat. I want to stuff your throat with my cum," He jerks a few powerful strokes, and I feel his cock swell inside my mouth, and a salty taste explodes in my mouth, and I gulp it down my throat.

Once he is done emptying himself into me, he releases my hair and gathers the mixture of his cum and my saliva that was dripping from the side of my lips using his middle and ring finger before jamming it back into my mouth.

His fingers choke me, forcing me to swallow the very last drop of his cum, "I want you to swallow every drop of my cum."

He pulls his fingers from my mouth and then uses them to tuck my hair behind my ear while his free hand runs its finger on my lips in a slow motion.

"You might want to fix your lipstick and hair, babochka."

He then pulls away from me and moves to the edge of his metal bed that has a thin mattress on it, and watches as I wipe the remainder of his cum from my tongue.

At first, he stares with a blank expression, but a low, sadistic chuckle comes from his mouth, and some light whiffs through his eyes-just for a second, one you wouldn't catch if you looked away.

After riding from my mini-orgasm high, I suddenly come to my senses when the guard bangs the door, signaling that we should be winding down our session- if he only knew what had transpired between us!

I scramble to my feet, picking up what is left of my dignity and my bag before rushing to the wrought steel door, and as if the guard hears my footsteps, he swings it open.

My heart pounds as I slip out of the dimly lit prison cell, the heavy door creaking as it settles back into place. I tag at my wrinkled dress, smoothing it down in a desperate attempt to look less noticeable.

The last thing I need is to draw attention to myself, but there is no hiding the state I am in: smudged lipstick, hair in a mess, and the faint scent of orgasm and regret clinging to my skin.

I keep my head down, forcing my steps to be steady and controlled.

Act normal.

But the sharp gazes of the guards slice through my composure. The guy who opened for me leans against the wall, arms crossed, except for the flicker of amusement that dances through his eyes. Another one gives me a slow once-over, his mouth twitching like he wants to smirk but knows better.

I tighten my hold on my bag's straps and walk faster, the click of my footsteps deafening against the cold concrete floor. Someone clears their throat behind me, a gesture that carries the weight of the words he can't dare speak to my face.

Heat crawls up my neck, but I am determined to finish my Cersei walk of shame to the restroom sign that gleams like a beacon of salvation, where I would get a chance to salvage the last shred of my dignity left.

I shove the door open and exhale sharply, gripping the sink for balance. The huge floor-length mirror confirms what I already know- I look precisely like someone sneaking out of a mistake, one that I already enjoyed.

"Jesus Christ, Caitlyn..." I whisper to myself, voice trembling.

What the hell is wrong with you?

What kind of therapist does that? What kind of woman lets herself be used like that?

With a groan, I splash cold water on my face, hoping it would wash away more than just the evidence.

A while later, my car's engine hums softly as I sit there, fingers gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. The dim glow of the dashboard cast eerie shadows across my lap, but my mind is elsewhere, stuck in the tangled mess of not more than half an hour ago.

But this man, he didn't look at me like I was broken.

He looked at me like I was his to break.

And I let him.

"Who the hell is he?" I whisper to the silence.

I reach for my phone, my hands slightly trembling as I type his name on the search bar. Vladislav Mikhailov. The name alone seems familiar; it sends a flicker of unease through me. Something feels... oddly familiar.

With a deep breath, I tap search.

And then the world shifts.

There he is-broad-shouldered, effortlessly commanding, standing beside another man-a younger version of him except for the warm ocean-blue eyes.

One I know too well.

My stomach twists violently as I stare at the screen.

"No. No, no, this can't be true!"

Vladislav Mikhailov isn't some mistake I would easily pretend to forget. He isn't just my new patient.

He is my ex-boyfriend's father!!!

A cold, nauseating wave crashes over me, my body locking in place. My brain scrambles to process the sheer weight of what I have done, but all I can hear is the blood pounding in my ears.

I groan, banging my forehead lightly against the steering wheel as I risk another glance at the man whose cock I had rolled my tongue over and begged him to fill my mouth. The man who had said obscene words to me and my pussy clamped wet was my ex-boyfriend's father!!!

What the hell have I just done?

Vladislav pov

The heavy clang of the metallic prison doors, followed by the brutal clank of the lock into place, reverberates through the corridor-a sound that reminds me of the cage that I called home for the past three months. Long enough that I had started to lose my shit.

But I knew better; I had to make my enemies think that they had won this time, but they were wrong.

I have men everywhere, even in the fucking government, men loyal to me, bound by their royal hearts to me. And, of course, some are not loyal to me; many want to take me down and take my place as the pakhan, but for them to succeed, they will have to eliminate each and every one of my men first.

And this....this was just a facade I had put on as my men hunted the rat that dared infiltrate my Bratva.

I run my hands through my dark hair; my jaw clenches as I roll my shoulders, feeling the tension crack down my spine as I step forward with the pristine Italian shoes that I have paired with my black suit-custom-tailored, freshly pressed.

My look is completed by my Cartier limited edition gold watch that sits on my wrist with a familiar yet nostalgic feel. The rings on my fingers feel just as familiar.

A thick silver band on my right hand, engraved with a double-headed eagle-my family crest, and another, a heavier one, gold, with a dark sapphire-on my left, passed down through the Mikhailov bloodline.

"Your ride will be here in a few," the guard who had escorted me out here mutters in a stiff voice, avoiding my gaze.

Yes, fear is what I exude, and he knows better than to look me in the eye. One wrong move-one mistaken word-and his family will be collecting ashes instead of his corpse.

Outside, the night air is cold, but the faint scent of rain smells more like victory. A familiar blacked-out Mercedes-Benz pulls over, and Leonid, my right-hand man, my brother in everything but blood, pops his head out.

"About fucking time!" he yells out loud, to which I flash him with one of my signature smirks as I slide into the car.

"Anything for me?"

"No. How is my brother doing when I was away?" Leo asks, dramatically clutching his chest before mashing his foot on the gas pedal like he was in a Fast & Furious movie.

"I believe you wouldn't dare show your damned face to me if you didn't have the information I asked you," I ask in a more calm, businesslike tone that doesn't match the chaos brewing deep inside me.

"Fine, fine," he retorts, and immediately he hands me, more like tosses me, a thick black binder like it is nothing but a dinner menu in some cheap restaurants down the Street.

I flip it open, my eyes zeroing in on the name at the top.

Caitlyn Clark.

She who came to clear me for my release-not that my freedom depended on it that much, and instead, she left that cell wrecked for me.

Even after giving me a mind-blowing release from her amateur blowjob, I couldn't bring myself to erase her from my fucking mind. She proved to be an enigma shrouded in mystery and intrigue, and I made it my mission to unravel it.

I skimmed over the page quickly, my eyes devouring the details about her-Caitlyn Mae Clark is a boring, typical. She comes from a boring middle-class family in Florida with a single stepdad and a mother who took the L before she could hit her early teen years- sad, but I did not care.

She is a licensed psychological therapist in a small but struggling mental clinic. She has a dull, meticulous routine that she repeats every damn day like a fucking clock. That includes the coffee shop she visits every morning and those early morning runs she indulges in daily.

That's why I trust Leo; he is competent and always comes through with any needed information.

Leonid chuckles beside me, shaking his head as he pulls a cigarette from his coat.

"You're fucking obsessed," he mutters, lighting a cigarette, exhaling a slow drag of smoke. "Three months in a cell, and the first thing you want isn't revenge, isn't your empire-it's some random girl you met... Remind me again where you saw her?"

He's right. I should be torturing the mole who dared to infiltrate my organization, tearing through my enemies like I always have. Instead, I'm here, thinking about her-about relishing in memories of her jasmine scent and a mouth that ruined me in ways I don't want to admit.

I should let it go. It was a mistake. A distraction. A fucking amateur blowjob, and yet-I want more than I can admit.

I'll find her. I'll drag her back into my world and make her wish she had never met me. And once I've had my fill, once I've fed this obsession clawing through my veins'll forget her.

Go back to being who I was before she touched me.

The ruthless Pakhan of the American Bratva. Untouchable. Feared. The man no one dares to cross.