Sasha’s hand held my throat, our eyes locked in the reflection of the mirror. His inked fingers against my pale skin. Me at his complete mercy. My body blindly in his grasp.
His front pressed against my back and his cock buried deep inside me, I panted as he thrust in and out of me, my insides clenching around his shaft.
“Who’s an old man?” he growled in my ear. His thrusts were relentless, deep and hard. When I didn’t answer, that earned me a spanking. His thrust and spank against my ass cheeks were coordinated, enhancing my pleasure.
A few more swats. My ass burned. My thighs dripped with my juices. The pleasure built. The reflection staring back at me was a mess. My mouth was parted, my hair wild and sweaty, my eyes glazed with lust.
“Who?” he demanded. “Who’s an old man?”
Yeah, calling Sasha Nikolaev an old man was a mistake but such a delicious mistake. I didn’t fucking regret it. He was wringing the third orgasm out of me. My insides quivered, my pussy clenched greedily, milking him for all he would give me.
“You,” I panted, grinding myself against him. Another spank on my ass. “But you’re my old man.”
That earned me a few more swats and I came all over him, my juices glistening on my thighs. My legs quivered and Sasha’s hand slid from my hips to wrap around me and hold me up.
Sasha turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me.
My Satan’s spawn. My love. My everything.
“Happy anniversary, kotyonok,” he murmured, nipping softly at my earlobe. “I love you.”
My tongue darted out, swiping across my lips. My heart thundered excitedly. My pulse raced and it had nothing to do with what we had just done. And everything to do with what I was about to say.
“And I love you,” I murmured, slowly turning around in his arms so I’d face him. I took a deep breath in and then exhaled. “I don’t have a gift for you.”
“You are my gift,” he rasped, nuzzling his face into me. “The only gift I want.”
I swallowed.
“What about a baby?” He stilled, his pale blue eyes searching my face. “You said once we could adopt. I- I think I’m ready if your offer still stands.” He opened his mouth, then closed it. It was rare to see Sasha Nikolaev at a loss for words. “He or she won’t have your blonde hair or your eyes,” I croaked.
He cupped my face, pulling me closer and our noses brushing together.
“But he or she will have our heart. Our name. Our love. That is all that matters. He or she will be family. Just as much a Nikolaev as anyone else.”
He picked me up and I squealed as he walked us over to the bed.
“You, me, and our babies,” he murmured against my lips. “We’ll bring the world down.”
