Page 161 of Jewel of the Assassin

“Roman, I-I?—”

All my protests die when his lips trail down my neck, then he lowers the lingerie strap down my shoulder, tugging to expose my left breast to the fading sunlight. His mouth closes around one erect nipple, hot and wet, and the bud is starved for his attention.

“Ahh. Twins. You have been producing more with a little help fromme.”

“You?” I pant, arching my throat as he applies strong suction to take my breast milk, drinking from the teat.

“Mmm, da.” He flicks his eyes up to mine, a telltale gleam there. “Hormone boosters. Your body has responded as well as I’d hoped.”

I snap, my hands flailing, weakly attacking himbecause the motivation might be there, but my energy is not. Especially when he yanks the diamond-encrusted bra right off my form and chucks it onto the stone of the balcony. I gasp from him taking control and trapping me against the balcony, gripping my wrists and pinning them at the base of my spine. All it does is thrust out my breasts more. The nipples keep leaking. So full. Too full. They need to be drained before they become engorged. Painful.

When Roman rubs the pads of his thumbs along my nipples, I whimper. The chill rakes across my skin, but they are erect most from his attentions.

“Unghhh, Romy!” I gasp as he takes my other nipple in his mouth, suckling my milk. Still latched on, he slaps the other swell, knocking it against the breast he’s holding. Then, he squeezes, kneading to urge more milk to flow.

“You’ve been rejecting me,” he says, low and dark, while roving his hand down my stomach. I wince from him coasting his fingers along my tender scar. “Because ofthis.”

More tears grow, and my voice cracks when I try to be strong. “I-I don’t know how to…” I falter.

Because I know I’m not a failure. I know he would never and willneversee me that way. Not once has he looked at me any differently. Or treated me any differently. If anything, he has elevated me even more.

“You don’t need to, Moya Samotsvet,” he tells me while gripping the undersides of my thighs and lifting me until the railing digs into the small of my back. But his cock! Oh! It’s been too long since I felt it grinding against me. My tits leak more from the arousal.

But Roman licks his tongue along the curve of my throat while notching his crown to my wet entrance. “Beg me, Valya.”

“Mmm. No,” I say defiantly, but my rolling hips say otherwise.

Chuckling darkly, he slips his hand beneath the jeweled bottoms, sinking his fingers inside to find me wet and needy. “Always so slutty for me, zhena. You need me. Here.” Hestabs three fingers inside, and I yelp from the pressure, doubling over. So long. Too long without him.

All it takes is three thrusts with the heel of his hand rubbing my clitoris. I fall apart, unraveling with the most intense orgasm since before the birth. My eyes roll back in my head. I cry through clenched teeth, humping his hand, riding out the climax. And the devil grins the whole time.

Then, he removes his fingers, makes a show of licking them, and before I can protest, Roman thrusts his cock inside me.

“Oh, fuck you! Ohgodfuckingshiiiiit!” I practically squeal because it’s been so long. He’s stretching me, burning me, smoldering my inner walls.

The next thing I know, Roman has bent me back with the base of my spine poised on the railing. He fucks me. He doesn’t hold back. Brutal. Vicious. Savage. Everything I want and need more than ever. My overfull breasts slap against his bare chest, dripping milk onto his skin, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop fucking me.

“God, it’s been too long, Valya,” he mirrors my earlier thoughts. “Too long without this sloppy, filthy cunt strangling my cock. Tighter than ever.”

He’s everywhere. The chilled air slaughters my back, but Roman is at my front. A wall of slabbed masculine heat. When his fingers wander along the scar lining my lower stomach, I tremble. Tears form, spilling down my cheeks.

The moment I try to turn away, he captures my chin, shakes his head, and says a breath above my lips, “No, Valentina. You are my wife. You are still my queen. In everything. This scar…the transformation of your body. It’s as exquisite as you are.. You have brought me life. You have given me everything a king could desire. The ultimate dream. And I will spend the rest of our lives reminding you, proving it to you.”

He’s right. It’s been too long. So, I climb up his body, digging my fingernails into his biceps and wrapping my legsaround his waist as tight as I can. I needed him to chase me, to hunt me, to force me back into our dynamic. Ourlife.

And as he finds his release inside me, Roman spins me around and slams into me from behind. He grips my breasts hard, spilling more milk to his delight. I clamp down and come again. The sound of the roaring sea crashing against the island’s cliffsides devours my screams.

In the late morning,we’re still in bed.

Roman’s arms tighten around me as I sigh, rubbing my cheek against his chest, not quite ready to wake yet. He wore me out like he always does. He still fucks like a god in flesh. A soft hum pulses along with the swollen burning in my pussy, and I close my eyes and yawn, ready to pass out again with the familiar feeling, one I’ve missed for the past three months.

And then, Roman taps the ring on my finger—the teardrop royal purple diamond—and asks, “What do you remember, Valentina?”

Smiling softly, I cuddle up to him as close as I possibly can. “I rememberyou. Nothing else.”

I’ve blocked out the vague glimmers of my past, the dark ones we killed and set fire to in the church so long ago.

When my stomach rumbles, I press my lips into a smile and add, “Oh. One other thing.”