Page 26 of His Public Claim
“Lev.” My wife’s amused and affectionate voice behind me cuts through my contemplation. “You cannot hide out in a dark corner all evening.”
Quick as lightning, I grab Nicole’s waist and swing her around, into my arms, attention all on her. Close. I always want my wife close.
“Wecould, though…” I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her orange-blossom scent.
She giggles softly and clings to me, her giggle turning to a purr of contented pleasure as I kiss and nip at the skin exposed by her dress. It’s red and off the shoulder and makes her look even more delicious than she was almost a decade ago when I won her virginity. Best money I’ve spent in my life.
And yes, I started a war with the Essex cartel. But an arranged marriage between my second-in-command and the Braintree mafia princess I orphaned ended it with less bloodshed than I had anticipated. Admittedly, the bloodshed was nearly my previous second-in-command’s, but the only reason Akim and his wife are not here tonight is that they’re expecting their third baby.
That’san idea.
“Lev,” Nicole protests breathily as I nudge the neckline of her dress down, revealing the swell of her breasts. But she doesn’t stop me. “We have four children out there, an exhibition to host, and the charity auction is about to…” I take one nipple between my teeth, bite, and tease my tongue over the sensitive tip. “Start!”
The last word is a squeak.
“They’ll wait. The kids have Ada with them,” I murmur, referring to the nanny. “They’re no trouble. So much so, I think we should have another…” I drag my lips over her nipple again, eliciting a moan. “If you’re worried about them, you can watch the gorgeous little creatures we created while I breed you again, right here.” I spin us around so my back is to the room, and she can peek over my shoulder, then begin to draw her skirt up.
“We shouldn’t,” she moans. “Anyone might see.”
“Better be quick then,” I breathe, and slide my hands into her knickers.
She lets out a whimper that could be a protest or acceptance, and I take it as the latter.
“Oh my myshka,” I sigh as I find her soaking wet. “Such a naughty girl.”
I wrap my arm around her ribcage as I rub circles over her swollen button. She collapses, as I knew she would, moaning softly.
“Need to be quiet as I stroke your needy little clit and thrust my fingers into that aching passage.” I suit my actions to my words, shifting my fingers down and seamlessly moving my thumb to caress where she’s most sensitive. She arches against me, and my cock goes rock-hard as I feel her begin to shake.
“Are you watching those people, far too nearby? I wonder if they’ll hear you moaning, my sweet whore. Andour precious babies. It’s a good thing they can’t see anything other than us talking close together in this corner. Because if anyone knew you were being fingered like a little addict…”
I rock the hard joint of my thumb over her clit as I rub two fingers into the tight wet heat of her passage.
“Lev,” she whines.
“That’s it,” I reassure her as she grips me. “You need it. I understand. I’ll give you everything, my love.”
“Your cock.” Her words are so quiet, pressed into the lapels of my dinner jacket as she can’t look anymore at the room. She’s on the brink.
“I’ll give you that too, later,” I promise. I am shameless, but I want to linger over breeding Nicole tonight, not rush it. “But now be a good girl and come for me.”
A harder thrust of my fingers and she breaks, shuddering against my chest and pulsing around my fingers. My god, it’s still heaven, feeling her come. My cock is leaking pre-come, as hard as I’ve ever been. Nicole continues to surprise me with how our bodies respond together. We’re the perfect combination at every turn.
I hold her, stroking her gently through her silent orgasm. “So good, well done. I needed you.”
She understands when I say that it’s not merely that I needed to be inside her, even if it was just my fingers. I need her pleasure. Her submission. I need her scent on my fingers and the buzz of the orgasm I gave her in her blood, and the flush in her cheeks. I’m still utterly obsessed with my myshka. My wife. My little mouse.
It’s with some reluctance that I withdraw my fingers from the hot slick place between her legs. Later, after I’ve come inside her, I’ll lick her until she shouts and begs.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she murmurs, looking up.Those gorgeous violet-blue eyes are full of love as well as hazy with pleasure.
I bring my fingers to her lips, and she opens at the touch. As she licks her cream from them, I grin unrepentantly.
I love my wife and over the years I might have become more possessive of her, but I also adore indulging her exhibitionist streak. Both for old-time’s sake, and for the way it makes her pussy gush. She’s mine, and after the signs of my ownership were all over her—her wedding ring, my baby swelling her stomach, the Dalston protection detail at her side—I relented slightly in my decree that no other man could see any part of her. Since then, I’ve calmed to the point that she doesn’t have to be covered head to toe, even if she’s not pregnant. There is no one in London that doesn’t know Nicole is a Vasiliev.
But even so, I can’t resist my wife. I should have fucked her before we left home so my seed made her knickers wet all night and ran down her thighs, but there isn’t always time. Dalston is a more powerful mafia than ever, bringing responsibilities as well as financial benefits.
Setting her back fully onto her feet, I wait until she’s steady then cup her jaw and brush my thumb lightly over her cheekbone.
