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Following the dumplings, I made a special cake for tonight—just in case Mishka didn’t pick up on the more subtle clues. Watching Sascha devour his slice has us both laughing because I think he wears about as much as he eats—and Boris is more than happy to help clean up the mess.
“I’ll give him his bath,” Mishka offers as we carry the plates into the kitchen.
“Thank you,” I murmur, stealing a quick kiss before I start the dishes.
By the time I’m done cleaning up the kitchen, Sascha’s bathed, his teeth brushed, and he’s wearing his little pajamas with frogs on them. Mishka’s such a good father, and Sascha adores him. I never get tired of watching the two together. As Mishka helps our little boy into bed, I take a moment to lean against the door to Sascha’s bedroom and cherish the tender moment.
Boris hops up onto Sascha’s bed to curl into a ball next to him, and once they’re tucked in, I join them to kiss Sascha good night.
“Sweet dreams, lapachka,” I say, pressing my lips to Sascha’s forehead.
“Night, Mama,” he says sleepily.
His eyes drift closed as Mishka and I share a warm smile, and when we slip out of his room a moment later, our sweet little boy is already asleep.
Padding quietly down the hall, I shiver with anticipation as Mishka’s powerful presence looms behind me. His fingers brush my hips as he leans past me to open our bedroom door. When we’re safely in the privacy of our bedroom, he closes the door with a soft click.
“Now, I think you have an apology to give me, zlyuchka,” Mishka murmurs, trapping my chin between his finger and thumb and turning my face to look at him. “For letting me think you were safely at the clinic when you’ve been traipsing all over town…”
“Yes, sir,” I agree, loving the playful danger that radiates from him.
In our everyday lives, Mishka and I are partners, equals, and he shows me a trust and respect that I’ve craved my whole life. But in the bedroom, he takes control, becoming a master of my pleasure.
“Tonight, I think I’d like to see these pretty little lips wrapped around my cock to make up for it,” he breathes, brushing the pad of his thumb across my lower lip.
My breath hitches, heat radiating through my core as I think about taking his thick cock into my mouth.
“On your knees,” he commands, his tone authoritative even though it’s gentle.
As if of their own accord, my knees buckle, bringing me quickly to the soft carpet as I peer up at my god of a husband. His erection is already straining against the seam of his jeans, and my heart flutters as I lick my suddenly dry lips.
“Take it out, Alina. I want to see how big my cock looks in your hands.” Mishka grips the hem of his shirt and strips it off in one fluid movement, revealing his muscular torso and colorful tattooed chest.
Mouth watering at his godlike physique, I fumble with his belt, and when his jeans are open, I pull out his hard length.
Mishka groans as I grip his shaft, giving it a single stroke. Precum drips from his tip, and I dart my tongue out to taste it.
“That’s it, lyubimaya,” Mishka purrs, stroking the top of my head and guiding me forward.
Opening wide, I take his silken head between my lips and moan when he twitches against the roof of my mouth. Air hisses between his teeth, his fingers tightening in my hair as he watches me with unbridled desire.
“You look so sexy when you swallow my cock like that,” he rasps.
I hum, relishing the praise and taking him deeper into my mouth until his swollen tip finds the back of my throat. As I start to move my head forward and back, stroking his length with my tongue, his hips shift in time with my rhythm.
I know he’s holding back, that he’s being gentle with me even though this is supposed to be a punishment, and I adore him for being so sweet. Not that I tell him that, because I know he thinks he’s too tough to be sweet.
“You suck my cock so good,” he groans as I swirl my tongue around his mushroom tip. “As a reward, I might just come inside your pussy. Would you like that, zlyuchka?”
“Mm-hmm,” I moan, my walls throbbing as my panties are suddenly soaking wet.
Breathing through my nose, I take all of him down my throat again and again. As his rocking motion grows more intense, I quiver with the thought of making him lose control. Of having him come down my throat instead. I love driving him wild, and I wonder if I can bring him to climax before he ends my punishment.
“Such a good, sexy girl,” he moans, his chest tensing as his breathing intensifies.
Then his fingers grip my hair at the roots, making me pause as he hits the back of my throat one more time.
“Stand up, zlyuchka. I want to feel how wet you are from taking your punishment.”
