Chapter 66
Vadim
Soft, pliant and ready to breed again.
I had Runa to thank for this—a new strategy that would benefit her and provide me with my heir. Iskra was a dedicated mother. One that had been brought to her knees with the right kind of pressure applied in the right order. The police cell. The ultimatum. The trial run. All of it leading here.
I groaned as milk sprayed into my mouth. My tongue licked around the swollen bud, lapping every last drop. I glanced up to see her eyes closed, lips parted, her breathing growing heavier.
My baby girl had shown me how to ingratiate myself in a way that we all won. Having Iskra in my bed permanently would satisfy all my needs. Runa was perfect and I wanted many more siblings for her—a house full of them, raised under this roof, under my name, under my protection.
I squeezed her other breast until a fat droplet of milk formed at her nipple. Her hiss made me smile before I licked it away. I could see why fresh from the source was recommended. The taste of her—warm and sweet and entirely hers—was something the formula had never come close to replicating.
When she began to shift beneath me I let my lips travel down to her stomach. The faint lines there—proof of how well my seed had taken root and swelled inside her, the physical record of Runa’s existence written into her skin.
I traced them.
Every single one of them.
The fact that she hadn’t groomed meant no men in her life. That knowledge settled in my chest with a satisfaction I wasn’t going to examine too closely—but I felt it regardless.
The extra golden hair would give me something to work with.
I could smell her need before I touched her. My fingers worked their way between her legs, through the soft damp curls, until I reached her heated core.
Her moan was long and drawn out.
I knew exactly how she felt.
But first—a little payback.
I moved over her until we were face to face.
“I can’t deny that I enjoyed seeing you kneel at my feet,” I said, watching the wariness creep into her eyes.
Those deep blue eyes that had once been so defiant—full of fire, full of fuck your obligations and fuck you delivered with precision—were muted now. Not broken. But muted.
“I bet you did,” she muttered.
“It’s your wifely duty to please your husband,” I said, rubbing my length along her stomach.
The outrage was there. She kept her lips sealed. The discipline of a woman who had agreed to terms and was honouring them through gritted teeth.
I moved beside her, lay back and tucked my hands behind my head.
“Go on then,” I said, as she sat up.“I’ll tell you what to do.”
Her hair had a slight curl as it hung over her breasts like curtains, the scent of her—warm skin and milk and something faintly floral that was entirely hers—reaching me before she moved. It was certainly no hardship to have her in my bed again.
“Use those pretty little hands,” I murmured as she paused for a beat.
She leaned over me to reach for my cock. Her fingers curled around me and she began to move them—the soft warmth of her grip, the slight catch of her thumbnail at the tip as she collected the precum and used it, sliding down to the base with the unhurried efficiency of a woman who remembered exactly what she was doing.
She shifted on her knees, inching closer. The heat of her radiating even before contact.
“Have a taste. Lick every inch of me. Worship my cock,” I murmured as her eyes flicked to mine for a moment.
She could stare all she wanted. I saw the raw need underneath it. She climbed over my leg and settled between them before she lowered her head and licked — slow at first, a careful exercise, her breath warm against my skin. Once she began lapping up the clear liquid her lips wrapped around the tip, the wet heat of her mouth closing around me as she pushed down.
