Page 44 of The Beauty Who Loved Him

“I don’t want children.”

Instantly, Vera came to a stop on top of him. A shame, really, because not only had he been enjoying the bob and sway of her breasts, but the sudden ache deep in his balls signified he’d been a hell of a lot closer to an orgasm that he would ever willingly admit. He never did, but he didn’t add that out loud. There was no need to rub salt in a woman’s fresh wound unless she was a particular type of woman. Like his mother. Vaslav expected the news of his disinterest in being a father would land on Vera with the same impact it did on most other people.

He thought for sure she’d respond with sadness.

Instead, her blue eyes only narrowed, and a clipped tone soon followed. “Neither do I, which is exactly why I’ve had the shot for the last half of a decade almost, despite my doctor pointing out at my yearly check-up that I should change it to something more permanent. It’s not meant for the long term, but it works for me. I don’t mind the schedule, I don’t get a period nine months out of the year, and guess what? No babies.”

Even just that word made him cringe. Baby.

“Don’t make a face,” she said, not missing his expression. “I didn’t say it like I’m about to go out on a shopping spree for carriages and onesies.”

“What are onesies?”

“Don’t shout,” Vera pouted.

“Then what is the entire point of this?” he exploded with a heavy laugh. “I’m pretty sure you just gave me blue balls all because we both want the same goddamn thing.”

Vera tipped her head to the side. “So, why don’t you get a vasectomy, or even better, why haven’t you already? Don’t tell me you’re not capable.”

The very best way to kill his mood in three seconds flat was talk of needles and knives near his testicles. He was not so prideful that he couldn’t admit to being a simple man at the end of the day. Who would not be getting his ball sack cut open while he was awake to do it. And because he didn’t trust any person in the world to have access to him while he was unconscious, surgery was out of the question unless it was literally life or death.

Vaslav shrugged and offered her a wink. “Because I’m not fond of cold hands.”

Her brow puckered cutely before she glowered at him, and she slapped his stomach lightly with her palm when she realized he’d made a terrible joke. “Stop it. I was trying to have a serious conversation here.”

Precisely.

And he was not.

“Vera, I woke you up to fuck,” he told her, finally releasing his arms from their job as a pillow so he could grab hold of her waist. “The same way I’ve woken you up every morning that you’ve spent in my bed. The same way I would like to start this morning—especially because I have a very long day ahead.”

She’d been so close to her orgasm just before she’d stopped. He’d felt it in the constant trembling in her thighs, and the way her focus lingered more on their connected bodies as her hips had started to pick up speed again. She’d been clenching her legs around him like a cage before she had to go and open her mouth. There was something addicting about the way she looked to him as she unabashedly chased her high, seeking her bliss in pleasure. The fact that she used him to do it made it all the more hot to him.

“And if only you’d shut up,” Vaslav continued after getting her hips rocking on him again with the aid of his tight grip on her hips, “we can get back to what I wanted. We both know the truth,” he told her, grinning like the cat lapping at the cream. A tremor worked its way through the bottom lip she was biting on while she stared down at him. “That’s what you really want, too.”

She sneered at him, then.

He laughed right back.

His sweet little kitten.

All fluff.

Tiny claws.

“Prick,” she whispered.

“Yes, the very one you’ve been using to rub yourself off on, you sweet little thing.”

Dirty, too. She was sinfully wicked working for her orgasm unashamed and wild. He liked her best that way. She talked less.

If only he didn’t like it when she did that, too.

“At least tell me why,” Vera whispered.

He swore he could hear the please on the tip of her tongue. The image of Vera begging while he flattered her to the bed, held her down on her stomach, and fucked her into another sweaty, humming mess filled his mind. Now, he just wanted to be doing that.

Instead, he settled on answering her truthfully. Hadn’t she earned it? “Condoms give me control, you understand?”