27. Vladimir
Vladimir
Old man my ass.
After we came back to the room last night, I fucked Luna three more times.
Not made love—no, that would imply something soft, slow.
This was raw, brutal, and desperate.
I fucked the lights out of her until her legs shook, until she was a whimpering, begging mess until my name was the only thing she could say between broken moans.
And even then, I wasn’t satisfied.
I wanted more.
But her body finally gave out, exhaustion dragging her under before I could take her again.
Now, just shy of three in the morning, I finally have her curled up in my bed, her body pressed against me, snoring lightly like she hasn’t just spent the last several hours being completely wrecked.
She’s soft like this, unguarded, a version of her that only I get to see.
My wife. Moya Luna.
I should be asleep, too, after how many times I’ve emptied myself inside of her, but I can’t close my eyes.
Because what if, when the morning comes, she goes back to how she was before?
Closed off. Distant. Running.
No.
I won’t allow it.
I tighten my grip around her, my fingers splayed over her bare stomach, feeling the soft rise and fall of her breath.
Mine.
That word repeats in my head like a mantra, calming the part of me that still rages whenever I remember that there was a time before me, a time when she was someone else’s, a time when some filthy, undeserving bastard laid a hand on her.
I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to wake her up, to remind her who she belongs to now.
Instead, I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her scent, letting it anchor me.
She stirs slightly, making a soft, sleepy sound, before settling back against me.
I’m still wide awake, stuck between wanting to hold her and wanting to fuck her again.
So I wait.
The tension in my chest eases, and eventually, I close my eyes, and the exhaustion takes over.
A shift stirs me out of my sleep.
A slow, deliberate movement under the covers.
At first, I think she’s just adjusting, getting comfortable.
Until I feel her breath against my lower stomach.
And then—her lips.
My entire body goes rigid as she presses soft, teasing kisses down my abs, trailing lower, lower…
Fuck.
I barely get a chance to react before her warm, wet mouth wraps around my cock.
A sharp hiss leaves me, my hand immediately fisting in her hair as she takes me all the way down in one slow, deliberate stroke.
My head drops back, a groan ripping from my throat.
"Luna."
She hums around my length, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure straight through me.
My grip tightens, not guiding her but holding on for dear fucking life.
She’s slow at first, dragging her tongue along the underside, sucking just hard enough to make my vision blur.
But then she gets bolder, hollowing her cheeks, taking me deeper, her nails scratching lightly at my thighs.
"Fucking hell, Lisichka," I groan, fighting every instinct to take control, to fuck her mouth like I know she can handle it.
But right now, she’s in control.
She pulls back agonizingly slow, her lips slick, swollen, glistening with evidence before looking up at me through thick lashes, those big, dark eyes gleaming with mischief.
Fucking tease.
"Good morning, husband," she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep and satisfaction, a wicked purr that slides down my spine like silk and gasoline.
A slow, dark chuckle rumbles from my chest as I reach down, cupping her jaw, my thumb grazing the fullness of her bottom lip. She’s still warm from sleep, from me, from the mess she’s made of me.
I watch as she parts her lips, tongue flicking out, teasing the tip of my thumb like she hasn’t already unraveled me.
I flip her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head before she can even think about escaping. My dick is still rock-hard.
"You’re insatiable, husband," she murmurs sleepily, her voice thick with exhaustion but dripping with amusement.
I smirk, dark and unrepentant, my hand sliding up her thigh. "You should’ve thought about that before you married me, Lisichka."
Her breath hitches, but that wicked glint in her eyes tells me she’s not done yet.
"You’re going to break me, Vlad," she whispers, her lips curving into something sinful, something dangerous.
I lean down, my mouth brushing against hers, my voice a rough growl against her lips.
"Then I’ll put you back together."
And then I devour her all over again.