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.
For over a year she had hidden herself away.
Hidden my daughter from me.
It didn’t take long to remind her who was the boss.
“Did I say that you could suck my cock?” I drawled, shifting my hands from behind my head to move her hair from her face.
Those blue eyes met mine and I almost cracked when she slowly pulled off with a pop—the sound of it, the deliberate eye contact—before she used her tongue to bathe me instead.
Up and down, the flat of her tongue dragging along my length, pausing to trace the head, circling my balls with the patience of a woman who had decided that if she was doing this she was doing it properly.
I had plans for that mouth. But my mission was to breed her again. To drown her pussy in my seed and begin the cycle all over again. She would never leave my children and I’d never stop breeding her.
I grabbed a pillow and lay it on the mattress.
“Lie on your belly,” I instructed. “Keep your legs closed.”
She worked her tongue up my length to lick the head one last time before she changed positions.
Her hips rested on the pillow, legs closed, elbows wedged beneath her as she held her head up.
Her ass was a little wider than before—the body keeping its own record of Runa—the way it tapered to her waist and the arch of her spine making me impatient in a way I hadn’t planned for.
I climbed over her legs, my thighs brushing the backs of hers as I settled above her. The heat of her rising to meet me. The sopping mess between her legs was pitiful. I gripped her by her ass, pried her open with my thumbs and nestled my cock between her heat.
A soft sigh left her.
I used the crease of her ass to rub my cock against her. With every drag along her exposed flesh her breathing grew louder.
“Do not wake the little one,” I warned, dragging the tip over her crack and to her pussy opening.
“Yes,” she gasped, trying to raise her ass. Offering herself to me.
Her pussy was tight. Even as I squeezed the tip inside her, the entrance hugged me as I proceeded.
“Oh god,” she huffed between pants.
“That’s it, give me your pussy,” I said, leaning close to her ear. “Feel me stretch you open again.”
I sank deeper, thrusting forward, causing her to moan. I clamped my hand over her mouth.
“If you wake her, you’ll sleep with my dick in your mouth tonight.”
Her body tensed beneath me. She nodded.
I pushed myself upright to watch her soak my cock as I pumped back and forth. Her muscles twitched around me as she accommodated me. The thought of seeing her belly swell again made me move faster.
I fell over her, catching my weight on my hands either side of the pillows. My chest pressed to her back, I inched my knees out to widen my stance and before she could react I flung my hips back before driving into that hot wet hole.
She pressed her face into my pillow to stifle her cry.
There was no stopping me. Every time I pummelled my way inside my heavy balls whacked her wet flesh.
I slid my hands beneath the pillows and kept my weight on my elbows so I could continue to fuck the disobedient little cunt—months of anger and frustration vented with each stroke, hammering back and forth while she cried into the pillow.
Deep.
I was in so deep I held myself inside her for a moment, grinding against her ass until her head rose off the pillow.
“Beg for me to breed you, Iskra,” I hissed close to her ear, easing back before slowly pushing back into her pliant flesh. “Beg for your husband’s come. Beg.”
I listened to each broken word, keeping her on edge with shallow strokes. Her words were music. Then I thrust deep, knocking the air from her lungs. Her words became a jumbled mess as her pussy began to flutter.
All thoughts of tormenting her were gone.
The need to drain my balls superseded everything else.
Her face fell back into the pillows as I returned to the long hard strokes. The slaps grew louder. My grunts followed with each snap of my hips.
A shallow cry erupted from her and I pushed her face back into the pillows as her cunt gushed over my cock, clenching around me. The moment I felt my cock jerk and swell I drove into her. My seed shot out violently—rope after wet rope of it splashing her contracting insides.
My wife’s pussy was claimed once more.