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“I think he’s going to come, my queen.” Ruby taunts him, dusting his tip. “He can’t fight us. He’s too weak. He’s dripping for us.”
“No…” Roman huffs. “Not like this. Please, Domina.” He lifts his desperate eyes to my mom. “You know how I want it. How Iwantto serve you.”
Unfortunately, I do.
The strapons on my mom’s gear table leave nothing to the imagination, and I wonder if I shampoo with Clorox if I can bleach the image from my mind.
“Then tell me,” Mom coaxes. “Be my good toy, and I’ll play with you. I’ll give you what you need. Tell me how you found us, or my princess will make you come, and you won’t get to lick my heels.”
With huffing breath, he stares at her, his brows bent for her. He’s fighting it, but then Ruby starts tickling his balls, and his other thigh shakes, too.
“Please, Domina,” he begs.
“Tell us,” Mom commands. “Or come.”
“Yebat,” he groans in Russian.Fuckis what it means and what he’s desperate for.
“Tell us,” Mom urges. “How did you find me?”
Stepping so close that her leather dress brushes his naked flesh, she whispers something in his ear. A promise to fuck him, I’m sure, and he groans, tossing his chin up.
“Your son,” he heaves.
“Who?” I growl, demanding a name, and fearing it, too.
Please don’t say Lyov, Nikifor, Jasha, or any of my brothers’ Russian names. It will destroy me.
“Yours.” Roman lifts his glare my way. “Yourson.”
Ruby stops, shocked like me. She steps back while I step toward him.
“What did you just say?” I demand.
“You have a son,” Roman confesses. “With your Katya. She was my wife before she was yours, andthat’show I found you.”
When everything you know explodes, it’s silent. Chaos claims your mind while the fragments of your life fall into new places. You stand numb in its destruction.
I can’t even feel my heart pounding in my chest. I can’t see. Tears blur my vision. I’m blind. All my senses leave me, while my mind can only focus on…
My son?
I have…
A son.
“Don’t do that.” The smacking sound of Ruby slapping his face brings me back. “Don’t lie and hurt him like that.” She’s crying. She’s defending me.
“I’m not lying,” Roman insists, his cock deflating at the heavy truth in the room.
I glance at my mom, and she’s in shock, too, shaking her head.
But then it hits me: the primal instinct. “Where is he?” I sneer. “Where’smyson?”
“In Moscow,” he answers. “With her and our father. They’re married now. He took her from me and sent her to you. To get pregnant by you and then return to him. To give him his true heir.”
It makes so much sense, I feel sick, worrying, “Is he okay? My son? Does hehurthim?”
With tears biting at my eyes, it’s my only thought. I’m a little boy again, remembering my father’s abuse, and all I don’t want to imagine is my son being hurt, too.