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With a gritted Russian curse, he gathers my knees in his hands and falls down on top of me, lodging his face in my neck. “Forgive me, angel. I’ve waited so long, imagined you from every angle, and still —still— my imagination didn’t do youjustice.”
Automatically, my hands begin sifting through his hair, stroking down his back. I am powerless to do anything but comfort the man I love. “You’re just sohuge.”
“Da,” he rasps. “The size will please you once you’ve been brokenin.”
Breathing through my nose, I take stock of the pain, relieved to feel it abating. But with the lessening of my own pain, I can no longer ignore Sasha’s. He’s breathing like a man who just swam ashore from a shipwreck in the middle of the ocean. His limbs are full of tension, his hoarse exhalations heating my neck, but still he doesn’t move out of deference to me. “It’s better now,” I whisper in his ear. “Break me in,Daddy.”
The rope around his control disappears, and the dangerous man I always knew lurked beneath Sasha’s surface comes out to play. His eyes are animalistic as he shoves my thighs open and begins to pound himself into me. Even in the midst of the lingering discomfort, I can’t help but marvel at how he moves, confident and desperate all at once. Controlled but somewhat frantic. Frantic to…breedme.
“This teasing little pussy has driven meout of my mind,” he grits out, his face tipping toward the sky to shout my name. “Sitting on my lap. Cuddling Daddy’s cock through thin panties while you did your homework.You will learn now what you’vetempted.”
For the next few minutes, I’m nothing but a plaything for his driving manhood. Sweat falls from his forehead onto my body, my face, his pumping body sleek and commanding. Relentless. There’s no gentleness now, only the proving of ownership. But as my teeth clack together, my breasts bouncing up and down, I can’t deny I love this sensation of my body being used to slake Sasha’s lust. It’s turning me on even more, the way his entire universe seems centered on where our bodies join. Over and over andover.
I open my legs even wider and take my nipples between my fingers, playing with them. A hot zing of pleasure travels to the flesh at the juncture of my thighs, and I gasp. “Oh.”
Through a haze of need, I meet Sasha’s half - mast eyes before allowing my attention to travel down his flexed chest and abdomen muscles, the dozens of versions of my name. When I reach the spot where Sasha rams himself in and out of me, I watch his thumb settle on my clit, loving it with a series of jiggles and strokes. “Cover Daddy’s cock in your sweetness, little angel. You will be taking my cum soon and I want your bodyreceptive.”
“Yes, yes…” My inner walls begin to spasm around the hard invasion of Sasha. “Yes.”
“Good girl.” He suctions his mouth to mine in a wet tongue kiss, and a loud rumble begins in his chest, eventually releasing from his lips. “You will take now.” Tensing, he throws his head back and moans. “Take.”
I’m still in the throes of my climax when I’m flooded between the legs. There’s no other way to describe it. Sasha overflows me with his hot, sticky essence and continues topound, pound, pound, growling at the sky with eyes clenched shut. It goes on for so long, more and more liquid sliding down the insides of my thighs and pooling beneath my bottom, that I have another orgasm, my back arching off the ground as Iscream.
When I’m pulled into Sasha’s arms some time later, a blessed, comfortable blackness is already creeping in to claim me. “I love you, Sasha,” I murmur, turning my face into his mighty chest. “I love you so much that I have to fight until we get our life exactlyright.”
“I love you more than should be humanly possible, Anya.” He stands and lays a lingering kiss on my forehead. “But do not fight me, for we are already exactlyright.”
Ignoring my sense of apprehension, I drift into a deep sleep as he carries me to the house.Ourhouse.
Chapter Eight
Sasha
What isthe level aboveobsession?
Whatever its name, that is myaffliction.
Power and need pump through my veins as I watch Anya sleep, her slight body swallowed up by our enormous bed. I have not bothered to dress for two reasons. One, I would need to stop staring at my beauty in order to do so. Two, I am enjoying the sight of her virgin blood on my cock far too much. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.Mine.
I realize I haven’t taken a deep breath in a full minute, and inhale through my nose, easing the pressure on my lungs. Already my seed is taking root inside her. I am not God and yet this is something I can sense. She glows among the bedsheets, her little pink nipples beckoning me closer. Perhaps I will wake her with my tongue between her legs.Yes. When I told Anya her pain would be rewarded, there was no greater truth. I have the stamina of two bulls and an eager tongue. When I drown the angel in pleasure, drape her in silk and feed her tonight, she will cease this talk of fighting andbattles.
We will only be interrupted a short while by the priest, who waits downstairs in the living room to pronounce us man and wife. After that, she will be made to forget her arguments with me and accept the happiness I’m driven to provide her. And Icanprovide for her every need. For a very long time. My profession might be considered unpleasant to some, but being the best at what I do made it very lucrative. Which is why the priest doesn’t mind waiting for Anya to wake from her nap. I have paid him verywell.
Only the promise that Anya will be my wife tonight forces me to tear my gaze off her sleeping form and take a shower. When I emerge from the en - suite bathroom, Anya rouses among the sheets, blinking at me sleepily. “Hi.” Her eyes are drawn to my stiff cock, which I haven’t bothered covering with a towel. “Wow,” she breathes. “This is going to take some getting usedto.”
Fuck, her mouth looks soft.Allof her appears so soft. Touchable. “Trust me, I wouldget you used to itnow, but we have a guest waitingdownstairs.”
“We do?” She sucks in a breath. “Is it m - myfather?”
“Nyet.” My blood pressure goes haywire for a moment at the reminder that another male has a claim to her. Even fatherhood is unacceptable. Mine.Mine.“A priest. Within the hour, you will be AnyaMikhailov.”
“Oh, really?” Her spine straightens. “I don’t remember you asking me to marryyou.”
My muscles threaten to snap. “You would allow me to breed you on the back lawn — fill you with my child — but you will not take my lastname?”
A tense standoff begins between us, but I’m almost brought to my knees when her lower lip trembles and her body sags. “I know we don’t exactly have a conventional relationship, but you could at least give me a niceproposal.”
“I will try, angel. I will try to do this,” I say without hesitation, intensity resonating in my throat. “Please, do not cry. I am only impatient to call you mine. In everysense.”
