“Turn back around,” I rasp, already guiding her. She spins on my lap without pulling off, legs wrapping around me again, tits right in front of my face, flushed and bouncing, nipples shinyfrom my mouth. I latch onto one immediately, sucking hard as I grip her hips and drive up into her.
“You’re going to take every drop,” I tell her between licks and bites. “I’m going to fill this womb until it overflows. Breed my wife like she deserves. You and me, we’re the same, Stefania. Dark where it counts most. And I’m going to keep you full and safe and coming until you forget what it felt like to hide any part of yourself.”
Her nails dig into my shoulders. She’s riding me again, frantic now, tits bouncing inches from my mouth. I switch to the other nipple, sucking harder, and she cries out, clenching around me a second time.
“That’s it, come again. Milk me. Take my cum. Let me fill you.”
A broken sound, part moan part scream, comes from her as she begins to tremble violently. “Yes,” she grunts, “Fill me up with your cum—” she throws her head back and I take a tit in each hand as her pelvis rocks back and forth so quickly I begin to see stars. “Fuck me until I’m so full I can’t even move.”
I thrust up hard and bury myself deep, groaning her name as I come. Thick, hot pulses flood her, so much it leaks out around my cock, frothing at the base. She shakes through her own orgasm, her tits shivering with the force.
“You’re never hiding again,” I say once the panting subsides. “Not from me. Not from this. We hunt together now, Stefania Orlova. And when you’re round with my child, I’ll be right here, watching you ride me just like this, telling you how fucking perfect you are.”
She smiles, and I know, bone-deep, that I’ve never wanted anything more.
Stefania
I wake up sore.
Not the kind of sore I'm used to like the ache of training or the deep-tissue burn that comes after a night spent crouching in cold alleys. This is a tenderness between my thighs that reminds me, with every small shift of my body, exactly what happened last night.
Three times. We had sex three times. And it was nothing how I imagined it would be.
It was loud and messy, and invigorating. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and the most intense.
Morning light is coming through the curtains, pale and thin. The bedroom smells like sleep and sex and the spicy cologne that clings to Yevgeny's skin. I'm on my side, facing the window. His arm is draped over my waist, heavy and warm, and his breathing is deep and even behind me.
I try to shift and my inner thighs protest. A dull, sweet ache that makes me press my lips together and exhale slowly through my nose.
"Sore?"
His voice is low. Rough with sleep. His arm tightens around me and I feel his mouth press against the back of my shoulder blade.
"A little."
"Good." His hand slides down my stomach. His palm is warm and his fingers spread wide across my skin and every nerve in my body wakes up and pays attention. "That means you'll remember it."
"I wasn't likely to forget."
He laughs. It’s the first time I've heard him laugh and it does something to my belly.
His hand keeps moving. Past my navel. Over the curve of my hip. His fingers trace the crease of my thigh and I feel my breath catch.
"Open your legs," he says.
I do.
His fingers slide between my thighs and I feel the slickness there. His cum. Still inside me. Still warm. A sound leaves his throat, deep and possessive, and his mouth presses harder against my shoulder.
"You kept it all," he murmurs against my skin. "Every drop. Like the absolute queen you are."
The praise hits me the same way it did last night. Like a fuse lighting in the base of my spine. My hips jerk involuntarily and he makes a pleased sound.
"So responsive." His fingers slide through the mess of me, spreading the slickness. "You're full of me, Stefania. You feel that?"
"Yes," I moan.
"And you kept every bit of it inside you all night, like a good wife." His fingers find my clit and I gasp, my hand shooting out to grip his forearm. "I want to taste it. Can I taste you?"
