And he proceeds to make good on that promise. Takes me again. And again. Different positions—on my back, on my side, bent over the bed. Each time he fills me with more of his release, refusing to let me clean myself, wanting his cum to stay inside me where it belongs.
By the time dawn light starts filtering through the windows, I'm exhausted, sore, thoroughly claimed. And despite everything—the force, the lack of choice, the overwhelming possession—I don't want to be anywhere else.
"Sleep," he finally says, pulling me against his chest. His hand splays possessively over my stomach. "Rest. You've earned it."
I drift off in his arms, marked and bred and completely his.
Mrs. Maksimova.
His wife.
Forever.
7
Vera
Iwake to the sensation of being filled.
It takes a moment for consciousness to return fully—awareness coming in slow, drowsy waves. Warm. Safe. Stretched around something thick and hard and...
Oh.
He's inside me.
Not pushing in. Already there. Already buried deep, his body curved around mine from behind, one arm locked around my waist.
I make a soft, confused sound and feel him throb in response.
"Shh," he murmurs against my neck, lips brushing my skin. "Just me,malyshka. Just your husband."
His hips roll forward, slow and lazy, and I gasp at the friction. I'm wet—so wet. How long has he been...?
"I’ve been inside you about fifteen minutes," he says, reading my thoughts. His hand splays possessively across my stomach. "You sleep so pretty when you're full of my cock."
Fifteen minutes. He's been using me for fifteen minutes while I slept.
"You were making these little sounds," he continues, another slow thrust. "These sweet, needy sounds in your sleep. Your pussy was getting wet, clenching around nothing. Your body wanted me even while you were dreaming. So I gave it what it needed."
Heat floods my face. My body responded to him before I was even conscious. Wanted him. Opened for him in sleep.
"That's what it means to be my wife," he says, voice dark with satisfaction. "I get to use you whenever I want. However I want. Even when you're sleeping. Especially then, when you can't pretend you don't need this as much as I do."
He's moving now with more purpose, his cock dragging against that spot inside me that makes my toes curl. I'm still half-asleep, mind fuzzy, body pliant and responsive in ways I can't control.
"Stay just like this," he orders when I try to shift. "Let me use you. That's what you're for, isn't it? To warm my cock whenever I need you to?"
I whimper into the pillow as he picks up speed. The position has me completely open to him, unable to do anything but take it. Take him. His free hand slides between my legs, finding my clit.
"Come for me," he commands. "Show me your body knows who owns it."
I do. Fall apart around him while he's still moving, my internal muscles clenching and fluttering around his cock. He groans against my neck, thrusting harder, chasing his own release.
"Mine," he growls as he comes. "Even in your sleep. Even when you don't know, I'm taking you. Always mine."
He stays inside me after, softening slowly, his hand possessive on my stomach as always.
"Good morning, wife," he finally says. "Ready to start the day?"
