Page 102 of Corruption

I reach around to cup her cunt with my hand, pressing my palm hard against her clit as I thrust into her.

“I’m… Alik… I’m…”

She comes on my cock with a choked sobbing noise, and it’s all I can do to not come right here and now because I know she can take more. I know she wants more. And, fuck, when her cunt is that tight and wet after coming that many times, the orgasm is unreal.

The door opens, and Nadia walks in.

“The two of you could have at least locked the door. What if Isaak had walked in?” she asks.

I would tell her that Isaak learned that he should knock no matter what time of day when a door is closed and we’re in a room together the hard way when he walked in on Kiya sitting on my face while Nadia was riding me. However, I’m too focused on fucking Kiya to do little more than make a grunt of acknowledgment.

“Want to—” Kiya lets out a squeal as I stroke her just right. She finishes, “join us?”

“No. I have a meeting with a potential donor to replace Zeta. I just came to see your progress with the crib.”

I moan when Kiya’s body shudders and her walls collapse on my cock again.

I grip onto her hips and slam into her hard, desperate for the last few strokes I need until—

I come inside her with a primal groan and shoot my seed into her as her cunt milks me. If she weren’t already pregnant, she probably would have been from this.

“I think the crib will look better on that wall,” Nadia says after I’ve stood up and while I put my cock back in my pants and get them fastened.

“I thought the same thing,” Kiya says, sitting up in the middle of the floor, not even bothering to grab her discarded dress.

“Nadia can move it this time, then,” I grumble.

“Now why would I do that when Pretty Girl and I have a big strong man like you to do it for us?”

I don’t even bother to argue as I go to move the crib yet again.

“I’ve narrowed the names down,” Kiya says suddenly.

“Did you?” Nadia replies.

“Yes.”

Nadia and I decided the only say we wanted in the name of our son was that his name has to be Russian. But other than that, the decision lies with Kiya, who has spent a significant amount of time doing research to decide. Ruling out names of traitors to our family or rivals first and foremost before getting attached to anything. Her dedication has been impressive.

“Either Nikolai or Mitya,” Kiya declares.

I recognize the first name, but it takes me a while to recognize the second because she’s pronouncing it wrong. It’s probably her accent, slight as it is.

“It’sMee-tya, Kitten.”

“That’s not how the audio pronunciation for English said it.”

“You’re even butchering that. But it’s how it’s pronounced in Russian that matters. We agreed for a Russian name.”

“Whatever. Which one do you all like best?”

“The one you can pronounce properly,” I reply promptly.

Nadia covers her mouth to hide a laugh.

“Just because you said that, I’m going to name him Mitya and pronounce it however I want.”

I’m done moving the crib by this time and turn to look at Kiya. She’s got her dress back on but is still sitting on the floor and is looking at me less than impressed.

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