"Yes!" she screams, her back bowing, nails raking down my arms. "Yes, Zakhar—fuck a baby into me!"
That scream, full of surrender, shatters my control. I clamp my mouth onto her breast as I come undone, slamming into her one last time as my release erupts. I flood her, hot spurts of cum pulsing deep into her, filling her womb just like I promised.
It's endless, wave after wave, her pussy milking me greedily, frothing our combined release around the base of my cock where we're joined. White cream bubbles up with each retreating thrust, slick and messy, coating us both and dripping onto the sheets. I growl through it, holding her hips tight, making sure every drop stays where it belongs.
When the last shudder runs through me, I slow, staying buried inside her for a moment longer, feeling the aftershocks ripple through her pussy. Then, reluctantly, I pull out, watching as my cum starts to leak from her swollen entrance.
I pull a pillow from beside her head and lift her ass, tilting her pelvis.
Not willing to waste a bit, I slide two fingers inside her, pushing it back in, curling them to rub against her sensitive walls. She gasps, oversensitive but arching into my touch.
"Perfect," I murmur, my voice low and satisfied as I work my seed deeper. "Keep it all in there, Lily. Let it take root." I lean down, kissing her softly now, the intensity giving way to something tender. She's mine. Soon, she'll carry the proof.
Lily
Zakhar is still pushing his cum into me when the alarm screams at four in the morning. I want to throw my phone across the room.
I reach out to silence it, my body protesting every small movement. I'm sore everywhere. Muscles I forgot I had make themselves known, and there’s a deep ache between my legs that's both uncomfortable and oddly satisfying as he continues to stroke at my entrance.
“I need to get up,” I say, reaching for his hand.
"You can’t stand up yet.” His words are final, sending shivers down my spine despite my exhaustion.
"I need to get to work. The bakery opens at six."
"No, it doesn't,” he says, not taking his eyes from between my legs.
I freeze. "What?"
"You're closing today. Taking the day off."
I lift my head and look at him between my legs. Those pale grey eyes are sharp and focused despite the early hour. Focused on me.
"I can't just close. I have customers—"
"You have three customers on a good day, Lily. They'll survive one day without bread and pastries." He finally withdraws his fingers and shifts his focus to my face.
The bluntness stings because it's true. But still. "It's my business. I can't just—"
"Yes, you can." He sits up carefully, mindful of his wounds. "You need a day to recalibrate. To think. To decide what you actually want instead of just surviving on autopilot."
"I don't—"
"You do." His hand cups my jaw, gentle but firm. "When's the last time you took a real day off?"
I can't remember. Months? Maybe longer?
"That's what I thought." He leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "One day, Lily. Give yourself that."
I open my mouth to argue, but find I can’t think of a reasonable word to say. I should tell him he doesn't get to make these decisions for me, that this is my life, my business, my choice. But I'm so tired.
"Okay," I whisper. "One day."
"Good girl."
The praise makes me clench, the sensation making me jump a little.
He pulls me back against his chest, and despite every instinct telling me to get up, to work, to keep pushing, I let myself sink into him.
