I’m being selfish by not pushing him to go home and be present to lead the bratva as he should.
Don’t care, though. I’m addicted to this. To him.
A smile blooms across my face. I let myself savor it. The weight of him. The way his thighs bracket mine. The quiet strength in his arm. And then I feel him pressed to my back, hardened in sleep.
My cheeks flush.
I ease my pajama bottoms down, slow and quiet. The fabric slips to my knees.
When I reach back and wrap my hand around his length, he twitches, asleep but already reacting. He’s so warm in my palm. So heavy it makes my pulse trip.
I guide him to my entrance, breath catching when the blunt head slides between my lips. The first inch makes me inhale. The stretch pulls a helpless moan from my throat. His fingers flex at my hip, still in the fog of sleep but gripping like his body recognizes me before his mind does.
His voice is a rough growl against my shoulder. “Such a greedy little wife. Want my cock already, hm?”
“Only yours,” I whisper.
His hips turn forward. Slow. Deep. Possessive. The push steals my breath. My lips part on a whimper I can’t contain.
He wakes fully as he sinks all the way in, his hand tightening around my hip, holding me snug against him. He’s so deep it aches in a way that makes my walls throb against his shaft.
Gustav buries his face in my neck and hair, inhaling like he needs my scent to breathe. “How did I get so lucky?” he murmurs, voice thick with desire. “The perfect girl.”
His praise makes my thighs tremble.
I move first, putting on a show for him by rocking back on his shaft in lazy strokes that drag slow pleasure through my body. He looks down, watching where our bodies are joined.
Each roll of my hips pushes a needy sound out of me. I glance over my shoulder, catching his mouth part as he watches my body move on and off his length.
My fingers clutch the sheet when his hand slides from my hips to my stomach, holding me still just before he takes control and grinds deeper.
Each of his thrusts is unhurried but passionate, meant to remind me that neither of us wants it to end.
His lips trace the back of my shoulder, warm and rough. “You wake me like this every morning,” he murmurs, “and I will keep you pregnant forever.”
The words shouldn’t turn me molten, but the way he says them makes my breath shake.
When I tighten around him, he chuckles softly, the sound wicked. “Little wife likes that. Wants me to cum in her.”
He thrusts harder, a slow grind that hits deeper. My back arches, helpless against the wave of pleasure rising too fast. His hand slips lower, between my thighs, two fingers circling my swollen clit in tight, focused strokes that send sparks down my spine.
“Fuck the bed for me,” he orders quietly, removing his hand. “Rub your pussy on it.”
He turns me flat on my belly. I spread my legs so my clit meets the sheets, and I rock my hips, grinding in shameless strokes.
“That’s it, mishka,” he rasps. He kneels behind me, watching as I pleasure myself. “I love watching your ass flex. Such a little slut for me.”
I glance over my shoulder and groan. Because he’s stroking himself and it’s sexy as hell. Those rippled abs. That V-line. His hard cock fisted in his powerful hand.
I grind harder and my apex takes over. My fingers clutch the sheets hard as I tremble through it.
His hands lightly palms my ass cheeks while the euphoria shatters me, like he’s praising me, making me feel safe while I unravel.
“My turn,” he murmurs.
I gasp as his cock sinks into my still pulsing warmth.
“Get ready, because you’re pussy better suck my cock of every drop. It is time for you to carry our legacy.”
