“Sit,” he orders.
The command shoots through me like heat.
I lean back against the edge of polished wood and slide back just enough the my legs hang, not quite touching the floor. He disappears through a door I hadn’t noticed when I walked in, and when he returns, he kneels between my legs to press a warm wet cloth gently between my thighs. Against the tender ache of where his body was last night.
His eyes lift to mine. “Tell me if it’s too hot.”
I shake my head slightly, it’s all I can manage.
His hands remain, holding the compress in place, holding me in place as he leans over me. My breath comes fast, shallow. His thumbs brush the insides of my thighs, barely there.
“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he rasps.
“How am I looking at you?” My voice sounds nothing like mine. It’s too breathless and a little more brave than I ever remember it being.
“Like you want more.”
“I do.” Even though I know I shouldn’t.
His control breaks so visibly it’s almost audible, a snapped leash falling to the ground between us. He sinks to his knees and I spread mine so his broad shoulders fit between them.
He presses the compress against me harder, and my body responds with a low moan as pleasure takes root and starts to unfurl.
His voice, when it comes, is a vow broken and remade in the same breath:
“You’re going to be the death of me and my rules.”
He presses a kiss to the inside of my thigh and I shiver with delight.
“The contract clearly stipulated you need rest today,” he says, nipping at the delicate skin of the inside of my thigh. “And then you walk in here wearing my shirt and nothing else…”
“I’m ovulating Vitali,” I counterargue, hoping the facts will outweigh the terms of the contract. “You want me to give birth in nine months time, then you need to fuck me repeatedly and relentlessly over the next five days.”
Vitali
Her pretty cunt is already dripping wet with need and arousal. My little virgin bride has developed a strong desire for my cock and I desperately want to accommodate her. Surely the fact that she is ovulating is extenuating circumstances? It won’t be a breach of the contract if she wants it, and if it’s what gets her pregnant.
This isn’t how I thought I would be making a baby. Contracts and arrangements and a temporary wife. I also didn’t expect to want her so fucking much that my balls ache with the need to empty into her constantly. I’ve never been particularly insatiable when it comes to sex. What’s the fucking point?
But with her… I don’t know. None of it makes the slightest bit of sense. But the moment I opened my eyes in the shower and saw the way she was looking at me, all shock and surprise and fucking need…
My mouth is on her as soon as I move the warm cloth away. Her pussy lips are swollen, a little bruised. When I spread her lips I can see the bright redness of her virginity being torn apart last night.
“Are you sure you can handle this right now?” I ask, but I don’t know how I’d stop if she said to.
“Yes, Vitali, I can handle it.” She looks down at me through those thick lashes and I’m done for. I know it in every fibre of my being.
Then it’s like all holy hell is let loose in this office.
My mouth is on her instantly, my tongue probing at her entrance carefully. Her hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, demanding more, and fuck if that doesn't shatter the last thread of my restraint.
Charlotte, sweet and innocent, grinds against my mouth like she's starving for it, her hips bucking in desperate, uneven rhythms. The taste of her floods me, sweet and salty, mixed with the faint tang of last night's claim. She's still swollen, still tender from how I stretched her open, but she's soaking, dripping down my chin, and the way she moans my name…It's a goddamn siren call I can't ignore.
I growl against her core, the vibration making her thighs quake around my ears. My tongue delves deeper, lapping at her entrance, circling her clit with the flat of it until she's writhing, her breaths coming in sharp, needy gasps. "Vitali... please..."
Please what? Please stop? No, not with the way she's holding me there, her fingers digging into my scalp like she'll die if I pull away.
I slide two fingers inside her, careful at first, testing the slick heat, and she clenches around them instantly so tight it makes my cock throb painfully against my trousers. She's ready. More than ready. Ovulating, she said. Begging for me to fill her, to breed her like the contract demands, but this isn't about the fucking contract anymore. This is about her. About us. About the way she makes me feel alive in a way I never have before.
