Then he said, “Fine. I will let go.”
A relieved, happy smile spread across my face. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”
But he held up a hand, pinning me with that same smoldering, unyielding look. “In this case, you should say to your Yom, ‘Thank you, Daddy.’”
Heat flushed my face, the blush spilling over my entire body, but I forced myself to whisper, “Thank you, Daddy.”
That made him smile. “You will learn to let this pet name slide from your tongue.” His gray eyes darkened with the promise. “I will teach you.”
I’d always struggled in school, reading especially. But this lesson proposal? I could answer easily, my voice light and teasing. “I am very, very up for being taught….”
I leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before sliding out of his arms. “After I take a shower!”
Like the bunny he called me, I darted off the bed, laughing as I escaped to clean off my thoroughly wrecked body.
Just as I reached the door, I paused, a newly awakened, womanly instinct making me glance over my shoulder. “You can join me if you want.”
YOM
Lydia did not makeher flight that afternoon.
Nor did she make her Monday classes.
Two empty seats marked the Tuesday Clara Quinn seminar.
And by Wednesday, Val had sent an email asking if anyone could cover Lydia’s shift.
“Apparently, she’s been held up in Chicago….”Val wrote to the volunteer/intern list.
The hold up was Yom.
He couldn’t stop fucking her.
Couldn’t stop wearing her out, again and again, waking her only for meals and when her birth control alarm sounded.
In truth, he’d thought about ignoring the alarm. He had future plans for them, and with a dedicated nanny to supplement Lydia’s lack of executive function, he knew she’d make a great mother. But even the infamously morally gray Rustanovs hadnever stooped so low as to baby-trap a woman they loved—not intentionally, at least.
So he shook her awake to hand her two of her three daily pills.
She’d passed the orange-and-white capsule back to him that first time he tried to give her all three with a paper coffee cup of water. “Trust me, we donotwant Adderall added into this… thrall—or whatever we’ve got going on here,” she’d assured him. “My heart’s already beating fast enough.”
Yom liked making Lydia’s heart beat too fast.
He also liked holding her down after sex with an arm barred across her stomach as he ate his latest load out of her sweet pussy.
But he’d yet to come himself that Wednesday.
He’d spent the entire morning engaged in hours of orgasm denial—retaliation for Lydia’s one and only attempt to revert to calling him “baby.”
“What’s the Russian word forwolf?” she asked, her voice shaky, body still quivering on the bed in the aftermath of back-to-back-to-back releases he gave her after all that denial.
“Volf,” he answered, his cock straining as he kissed down her trembling back.
Holding her at the edge had meant delaying his own release as well. He’d need to pull her beneath him again as soon as she recovered. Until then, he’d found a few new hotspots on her body over the past few days, and he was becoming addicted to the little tremors that ran through her whenever he touched, kissed, and licked her during her afterglow.
“Can I call youVolfie?” she asked. “Like Ruthie calls you Yommie?”
“I do not approve of this nickname,” he replied, voice flattening. “But her father is important family member. She takes advantage.”
