Vadim
Valentin kept his eyes on Runa as Konstantin cooed at her. Unfortunately my daughter found him highly amusing and that didn’t sit well with me. She stroked his beard and stared into his eyes with the same focused attention she gave me. I was about to retrieve her when Valentin spoke.
“I would make cute babies,” he said, his gaze lingering on Runa.
He had similar colouring to mine. Runa, however, had benefited from two sets of genes that made her considerably more appealing than either of us had any right to claim.
“No one would want a baby with you,” Ruslan mused. “They would never find your location to be able to conceive.”
He had a point.
“Unless I kept her in my basement.”
“Probably best to find a blind one,” Konstantin said, swinging Runa onto his hip. “Dual benefit—she can’t reveal your location and she doesn’t need to know how ugly you are.”
“Why does he need to be here?” Valentin demanded.
“He’s part of the contingency plan,” I said with a shrug. “He needs to be here.”
Runa began to squirm and grumble. I glanced at the time. Close to her feeding time and afternoon nap. Without it she became volatile—a trait she may have inherited from me, but I was choosing not to examine too closely.
“Women are too complicated,” Ruslan said. “They always want to talk in the end.”
“You’re doing it wrong if they’re still able to talk once you’re finished with them,” Konstantin said, raising Runa in the air and speaking gibberish to her.
“Why don’t you have some boys so we can be rid of the contingency plan?” Ruslan grumbled, glaring at Konstantin.
“I second that, Pakhan,” Valentin added. “How are we supposed to resist killing him?”
“Hey,” Konstantin said, lowering Runa. “I’m right here.”
He was about to kiss her dribbling mouth when she smacked him.
“See,” Ruslan said, snickering behind his hand. “Even the kid knows.”
A faint knock at the door before it opened. I knew it was her before I saw her—she ran Runa’s routine with the precision of a drill sergeant. She wore the cream cable knit dress I had laid out for her that morning. Easy access. She had been remarkably compliant since moving into my room.
As soon as Runa saw her mother she began pushing away from Konstantin, reaching out with a loud squeal.
Iskra’s expression shifted—the discomfort of the room dissolving into something else entirely as Runa came into her arms. She settled her on her hip, Runa immediately nuzzling into the curve of her.
I glanced at the others. Their eyes were on Iskra.
I looked past the curtain of golden hair to the marks around her neck and rolled my chair back.
“Come over here,” I murmured, patting my leg.
“Or you could learn to leash one, Valentin,” I said as she sat. “That would solve your problem.”
Runa was already nuzzling toward her mother’s breasts.
“My wayward wife,” I said, sliding my hand up her thigh until it rested beneath the hem of her dress. “Why so tense?”
Someone cleared their throat as my hand inched higher.
Runa began to fuss.
“I’ll be up shortly,” I said, leaning down to kiss Runa’s head.
We both knew how I liked to be greeted in my bedroom.
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She knelt at the side of the bed, facing the door. Runa was asleep, the curtains drawn, my men dispersed—even Konstantin had gone.
I closed the door behind me. The soft click seemed to echo in the silence.
I was glad Runa was such a heavy sleeper. I wasn’t ready for her to leave my bedroom yet.
Her head was bowed, hair falling forward to curtain most of her body.
Even in the dim light the diamond on her hand caught the light and glinted.
I removed my cufflinks and set them on the nightstand, then rolled my shirt sleeves up with the unhurried deliberateness of a man with nowhere else to be.
I positioned my feet on either side of her legs until the black fabric of my trousers brushed her forehead.
She looked up.
I reached down and lowered my zip.
“Take me out and get me hard,” I murmured.
We both knew her humiliation was what fed me.
While she worked her hand into my trousers I gathered her hair and set it behind her. Seeing my cock so close to her face made me harden before she fully got me out. She knew what I liked. I waited patiently until she tugged my balls free.
“Kiss it,” I said, tipping her head back to rest against the bed.
The flicker of anger that tightened her lips and creased her forehead was perfect. Her fingers circled around my cock as she pumped with a flick of her wrist, her blue eyes locked on mine as she kissed the tip.
“More. Kiss, lick then suck,” I murmured.
I watched her make out with my cock—kissing all around the tip before licking it like an ice cream cone—before she opened that hot little mouth. I moved her hands away and lined myself up.
“Now suck,” I said.
Her lips wrapped around the blunt tip, sucking me in. The wet heat was perfect. I began to rock the head in and out of her mouth, her pink lips smacking together each time I pulled back. It wasn’t until she began moving her head forward to take more that I indulged myself.
“Open wide and take me like a good wife. Get me ready for your pussy,” I said, smirking as she stretched her jaw wide.
She knew what was coming.
I pressed in, nudging the tip to the back of her throat before pulling out.
After several passes strands of spit and precum clung between my cock and her lips.
She blinked each time I pressed harder. Her fingers curled around my thighs, gripping my trousers, and I knew what she needed.
I knew her bare pussy ached to be filled the same way her mouth was.
I took my time.
“Such a good cock-sucker,” I murmured, pressing into her throat.
She had taught herself to swallow me—to accept my girth as well as my length. I eased deeper, inch by inch, while my heart began to race. Not from watching her take me. From the power I held over her. Over her ability to breathe.
I widened my stance. Her fingers clenched my trousers. Tears ran from her eyes as she tried to blink them away, her throat contracting around my length. I waited until my balls kissed her wet chin and my trousers grazed her nose.
Slow and steady I began to rock my hips, watching my cock glisten as it slid in and out of her pliant mouth.
I held her head between my hands and thrust myself down her throat, clenching my teeth so I didn’t make a sound.
The only sounds were hers — the struggle to take the brutal thrusts that followed.
No one took me from tip to root the way she did. The wet slap of my balls against her chin was unequivocal proof. I’d long since fucked that gag reflex out of her. Her eyelashes fluttered as I flung my hips back and forth.
“Yes,” I hissed. “So fucking good.”
Too good. My cock throbbed and my balls ached for release.
I took a breath and eased out, leaving her gasping.
“Stand up and bend over,” I growled.
She released my trousers and began to move. I gripped my cock in my fist and squeezed. The one thing I loved knowing before I walked away from her — that she could still feel me inside her long after I was done.
She was in position.
I leisurely rolled my neck before tapping her bare foot.
“Close your legs.”
She did as she was told. I moved in, standing either side of her legs.
Her pussy was as wet as her mouth had been.
“Always ready for a deposit,” I murmured, rubbing the tip along her seam before lining myself up.
She glanced over her shoulder with that look in her eye.
The one thing I couldn’t obliterate.
The look that said do your worst.
She didn't know how tempting that was.
Or how feral it made me.