“You should consider counselling,” I said helpfully.
His head rose. In the amber light of the lamp, I could see his smile—wide, unguarded, entirely undiplomatic.
“No one could persuade me otherwise. I’d be doing the world a favour by keeping it safe from you.”
I gasped and tugged his hair.
“There’s my naughty girl. Lie on your stomach.”
I knew what he wanted. The moment my family had left he had cornered me with a new glass butt plug.
The man was obsessed with my backside.
I grumbled and pushed on his chest to remove his weight so I could turn.
The reluctance was a farce and we both knew it.
Chapter 82
Vadim
When I lifted my weight off her she turned so quickly that her skirt got tangled. I stared at the back of her head as she fluffed her pillow to get comfortable. I shook my head and reached for the packet of baby wipes and lube I’d left on the nightstand.
“Nothing phases you, does it?” I murmured, setting the items down beside her.
I took my pillow and tapped her hip before sliding it beneath her to protect her stomach.
“There is no point in fighting the inevitable. I like to conserve my energy for the real battles,” she said, glancing at me over her shoulder with a mischievous glint in her eye.
It occurred to me that if anything were to happen to me, she would run my empire the way she ran Runa’s schedule. With an iron fist. And if anyone touched her children there wouldn’t be war—only annihilation.
Pride swelled in my chest. The same pride I’d felt when Runa first pulled herself upright in her cot. My entire life I had believed women were beneath me, as my father had before me. But this one. Iskra Kozlova was made for me in a way I couldn’t explain and had stopped trying to.
I dragged the russet material up her legs until it slid over her backside. The perfect twin curves of her rear—soft, full, entirely disproportionate to her frame. The thin flame-coloured mesh did nothing to conceal the plug I’d teased her with when I placed it there.
I cupped her—heavy and warm against my palms, the skin impossibly smooth. She pressed back into my hands without a word. With a final squeeze I released her and peeled her underwear away with slow precision—unhurried, deliberate, designed to make her wait.
Every night was on my terms, but tonight would test my wife in a different way. She couldn’t be vocal and she couldn’t rush me. I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
With a smile, I reached for the lube.
I eased the handcrafted glass plug out to coat it before sliding it back inside. Her tight hole stretched and then greedily pulled the smooth glass back in. I repeated the process—withdrawing, adding more lubricant, returning it—each time slow and methodical.
Her muffled sounds grew.
I leaned over her.
“If you’re loud I stop. You’ll have to go into the bathroom and finish yourself off before bed.”
Her head snapped up. One word, hissed through her teeth.
“Zlodey.”
“Ouch. If I could feel, I’d be hurt,” I said, settling my weight over the back of her legs.“That’s a little harsh. How can I be an evil-doer when all I’m doing is ensuring our daughter isn’t disturbed?”
One lifetime of fucking with Iskra wasn’t enough. Her reactions were always so scintillating.
