Page 26 of Vasily the Hammer

If I have an heir and I survive the curse long enough, he’ll follow me to this cursed throne. I don’t want that.

But damn if the idea of breeding Ana doesn’t feel like it would be just as hot in reality as it was in fantasy. She was literally begging for it, and she did think it was a real concern.

She wants to have my child.

Nowshe wants to have my child. She’ll change her mind after she gets her memory back, but if it’s too late then...

The moment she finishes her bottle of water, I grab her by the legs and straighten her out on the sofa.

“Vasily!” she squeals, and fuck if that’s not the prettiest sound. This is so much easier than the first time she was in my captivity, when she thought we had to be enemies for way too long.

I shimmy her out of her panties and part her legs, kissing my way back up them, pushing the hoodie up over her tits for good measure. In the past, she had nothing to speak of. They were our little secret. I’m intrigued by what she has now, curious about what’s transpired in the last few years, guessing that something caused her to yo-yo with her weight.

Me, probably. I’m not one to take credit where it’s not due, but I’m not going to pretend like telling her we were going to runoff together to some happy secret life in the mountains, only to return her to her brother instead, wouldn’t have fucked her up some. Obviously she got over it, since she lost the weight even if it added some flesh.

I like it. I like that she’s soft now. I like that I can dig my fingers in and there’s something to hold. I like that there’s weight in my hand when I grab her tits. Her ass is a bit bigger, her hips broader, no longer a rail, and yeah, I fucking dig that.

Her musk is heavy where I kiss her mound, both our juices lingering there. Everything’s fucked up. I’m probably going to be murdered by her brother and it won’t even have anything to do with this; those sands of time are just running way fucking out and I seem to be the only one who’s done that math. But this right here, this was supposed to be my salvation, and whatever’s happened since it fell apart, nothing of our mingled essences have changed.

I hum as I lick and then suck, driving her wild with my mouth. I keep her on edge, making her shake and thrash before easing back until she’s begging and cursing my name, only to work her back up again. I love this enough that I’m actually bothered by the fact that it’s all calculated and when I dip my fingers into her cunt and push them deep, swiping along the walls and stretching back as far as I can, it’s not simply to make her wail and tug at my hair.

I feel nothing.

Benedetti has the birth control ring. Never would have known without a minor mishap between the capture ball of my piercing and a misplaced ring— just another reason I’d never fuck her without a condom.

There’s the IUD, too. I know that’s a string; found that out from one of the books Ana dropped on my e-reader. Since the authors of all those books were women, I’m assuming that particularauthor knew what she was talking about when she described the hockey bro pulling the IUD by the string out of his lady, the homeless co-ed who just happened to be his teammate’s step-sister.

I don’t feel any strings inside Ana. Granted, I mostly just feel the squeezy, fleshy walls I’d prefer to be filled with my cock, but I don’t feel anything other than Ana.

Unless I’m not familiar with the whole list of long-term contraceptives, I don’t think Ana has anything. Maybe I misunderstood the doctor, like obviously she’s not pregnant because nothing came up with either the rape kit or the STD test? Or, hell, we were in Florida. Probably abortion’s illegal there, so it’s better not to test in case she is pregnant, so we can lie to ourselves that any babies that pop out in nine months are mine?

Any babies that pop out in nine monthswillbe mine, so I blow off the rest of my inspection and any other concerns I might have about my very likely impending doom as I take hold of the arm rest above Ana’s head and surge over her.

Her eyes light up, her jaw drops for her to pant erratically, and I don’t even need to say what I plan to do; she stuffs a hand right into my boxer briefs, gripping me by the shaft to pull my cock out, giving me a few tugs for good measure.

“God, this thing is amazing,” she groans as she rolls her fingers over my piercing. “Have I told you that before?”

I chuckle and lean down to nip at her earlobe. “I taught you how to count in Russian with it.”

I’m expecting some sort of hot reaction. She should at least be guiding me into her. Instead, she snorts. “I can only count to one in Russian?”

Shit. Right. That’s not something I want to explain to her. It’s weird even without dodging the fact that I’ve been single for thelast six years. So I wrap my hand over hers to feed my cock into her pussy, saying,“Odin,”as I push in,“Dva,”when I pull out so far that I have to keep my hand on my shaft to stay aligned,“Tri,”when I push back into her.

I count each stroke, never sinking deep into her, but I love the way she reacts each time I penetrate her, and when I finally release inside her, I swear I can feel my cum jetting all the way into her womb.

I wake with a groan and no small amount of confusion over the way the sunlight pours in on me and everything around me glows in a cottagecore pink. It takes me several seconds to realize I fucked Ana straight into her bedroom last night, where I promptly passed out and never set a single alarm.

Also, this room doesn’t have black-out curtains, and that is a fucking problem.

It’s my phone ringing that woke me, and even that is an adventure to find because it’s not in arm’s reach and Ana is half on top of me, using my stomach as a pillow as though she fell asleep sucking my cock.

Did she? That’s... certainly something I’d like to revisit when I’m more lucid.

I manage to roll out from under her with only a small grumble from her, and I find my phone on the floor next to the bed. Nothing else around it; not like it was in my pants pocket and my pants made it all the way here. They’re still flung over the back of the sofa.

Shit, I remember accusing Ana of being cum drunk. I guess I was cunt drunk. Makes sense, since I’m feeling all fucked up likeI’m hungover. My brain’s all heavy and sloshy, my eyes burn, my throat feels like sandpaper.

Wait, that might have been the smoke inhalation catching up to me.

---