Page 87 of Milk & Malice: Vadik
Viktor cracked his neck, tilting his head side to side. The brute was Ayla’s godfather, and he took it personally.
Me?
I was not given to bouts of non-conducive emotion. I preferred my scalpel and bone saw. The Pakhan walked in quietly while Viktor hurled Ivan into the chair.
His blue eyes flicked over my table before he gave me a nod. They were dull, but I saw the fury simmering beneath.
Andryúsha, the Pakhan’s driver, had caught Ivan placing a bomb beneath the car. The car that carried his wife and child.
Alek and Irina’s remains flashed through my mind.
“Pakhan, I’m relieved you and your family are safe, and you know I’ll make him suffer,” I said, snapping my gloves on.“Make yourself comfortable.”
Viktor strapped Ivan down while the Pakhan removed his suit jacket.
Once I had every name behind the attack, I’d savour the look in Ivan’s eyes when his new reality was unleashed.
Empty and desolate—like Stumpy’s when he died.
My pet was fast asleep, and I could work all night.
Ivan would live a long life. Just not in one piece.
???
I cut the engine and stared at the first light swallowing the darkness. This was how my mind felt when I returned home—not to an empty house with lacklustre walls, but to my obedient, perfect pet.
She could move from barn to house via the ramp and cow door. I never left her outside. Not because I didn’t trust her, but because I didn’t trust the world.
Where rot once festered in my mind, now the bell’s tinkle or her sweet moos brought me back to the present. This was my haven within the chaos.
I yanked the handle and exited the car, inhaling the icy, fresh morning air. After a merciless and visionary period in the operating room, there was nothing better than a second round of violent fucking with my pet.
My naive little fuckcow believed I worked in a hospital saving lives. I let her believe it. Never fully sharing the depths of my rotten soul.
I put the coffee in the machine. I’d need a few espressos to get the job done this morning. While it brewed, I stepped into the shower to rinse off any blood spatter or other stray fragments that might’ve caught in my hair.
I’d learned my lesson when a piece of brain matter once landed on Lena’s perfect ass. Luckily, she was too busy mooing for my cock to notice.
After vigorously scrubbing my hair, I dried off and slipped into my robe. Two espressos later, I opened the barn door.
Her hair was longer now, spread around her, horns protruding proudly from her skull. She looked like a majestic beast born of myth and lore. I’d maintained optimum fat levels to ensure excellent milk production.
I emptied my pockets and set the items beside her before tugging down the blanket—only then realising how hungry I was.
Her breasts were full, heavy. The morning milk was always the sweetest.
I shrugged out of my robe and climbed over her to straddle her legs.
Her gold bell glinted beneath the soft orange light.
I squeezed her breasts together until her nipples met, then latched my mouth over her teat, sucking like my life depended on it.
The instant spray of warm milk made my cock jerk against her belly. I didn’t tease her this morning, I was too hungry for that. My little heifer was so used to my feasting she continued to sleep.
I licked her nipple clean before moving to the next, massaging her mammary glands with slow, steady pressure. It always helped her flow. Her breathing changed. Eyes fluttered open.
“Oh, you’re home,” she said, arching her back lazily—pushing her tits into my face before smiling.
