Page 33 of Vasily the Hammer

“Well, no, but—”

That steel grip tightens right back up. “Vasily, I love these. Put them back.”

“I can’t just put them back,” I chuckle. “They’d have to be repierced, and trust me when I say you won’t like the healing process.” I couldn’t keep her off my dick if I tried.

“Okay, but this one right here. This one feels like it’s just been pulled out. Where’s the bar? Do you still have it? I’ll put it back in for you.”

I cough to dodge the feral look in her eyes. “Not while my dick’s hard, you’re not!”

Oh, but that doesn’t do anything to dull the gleam in her eyes, actually. “I guess we’ll just have to figure out how to soften you up, then,” she says wickedly as she crawls up from where she was kneeling between my legs to straddle my thighs.

There are no panties to get rid of; the second we got home from church on Sunday, she pulled the scarf from her head and the modest dress I picked out for her— something I did the first time she met Father Niko in Flagstaff and I’m already thinking should be a tradition to continue— from her body, stripped herself bare, and then threw on my hoodie.

Her hoodie. I lost that battle.

And that’s pretty much all she’s worn since then.

She settles her weight on me, and I guide her onto my cock, but the moment I’m buried deep inside her, she takes over. She has the most beatific smile as she rests her wrists on my shoulders so she can take hold of the back of my head. When I sink back onto the sofa, she leans down with me, but she keeps space between us enough that she can look down on me as her hair, half the length it once was but light and bouncy and free, falls into her face.

“I love you,” I murmur, and fuck, I’m already dreading the power of those words once she figures everything out and hates me. It’s all so easy now, but that’s not my life. Easy has never worked for me. Eventually, she’ll remember that the only time she actually spoke those words, just like that, was when she was begging me not to leave her with her brother.

And I left her with her brother.

For six years.

I let her go, and she nearly died. She nearly ended up a prisoner to some disgusting, pathetic man who had to buy women because he was too vile for anyone to want him. Or some sicko who just preferred it that way.

I reclaim my hoodie the most subtle way possible, tugging it up over her head and down her arms, lifting them one by one off my shoulders, baring her body for my eyes to feast upon.

She gives me a slightly sheepish look, one I’ve already clocked a dozen times, whenever I see her naked in the daylight. I don’t know how to tell her how beautiful she is in a way she’ll believe. There are no words to assure her of that, only time, but I take hold of her tits and give them a good squeeze, relishing the flesh in my palms.

“Just wait until these get all filled with milk,” I tell her, knowing that she’ll actually respond better to that.

Her eyes go heavy, her lashes fluttering as she arches her spine to fill my hands better.

“Will you like that, Ana? Will you like getting all round and swollen for me? Filled with my child? How needy you’ll be, how insatiable you’ll be even as we have to get creative about how we fuck because your great big belly will be in the way?”

“Please!” she whimpers, her pussy clenching over me. “Please give me a baby!”

“I’ll give you many babies. Keep you bred forever now. Bred so much that every time the office across the street looks out the window to jerk off to your shows, your belly will be fattening with another baby—oh fuck, you love that, don’t you?” I groan as she starts to buck on my lap, her whole body quaking, so overwhelmed with lust.

“No!” she cries out, but she’s lying. It’s sweet. “I don’t! I-I-I—oh god.” She ends on a groan as she gushes in my lap, her body melting.

But I haven’t come yet. I flip her down onto the sofa, laying her over the hoodie, knowing she’s going to make a mess on it and wear it anyway because until her belly does start to swell, I don’t know how else to mark her for everyone to see. I grab her behind one of her knees, spreading her legs wide so I can pound into her as she begs me to stop.

“No, Ana,” I growl, barely able to talk, I’m so close to spilling. “You fucking love it. You love to be watched. And you are going to put on a show in my office every fucking day if I tell you to.”

Ana gushes at the threat, and she starts panting wildly and attempting to escape me, her body on overload, but I’m not letting her go. If she passes out from pleasure, I still won’t have fucked her hard enough.

I’m never going to stop fucking her.

Never.

She’s fucking mine.

And when I can’t hold back anymore, when I come so hard I swear half my spinal cord shoots out my cock into her thirsty cunt, I know that it doesn’t matter what happens.

She’s not going anywhere.

---