Her Rustanov Bully: the (possibly romantic?) tale of how I pucked around and found out
Her Rustanov Bully: Chapter 40

Lydia did not make her flight that afternoon.

Nor did she make her Monday classes.

Two empty seats marked the Tuesday Clara Quinn seminar.

And by Wednesday, Val had sent an email asking if anyone could cover Lydia’s shift.

“Apparently, she’s been held up in Chicago….” Val wrote to the volunteer/intern list.

The hold up was Yom.

He couldn’t stop fucking her.

Couldn’t stop wearing her out, again and again, waking her only for meals and when her birth control alarm sounded.

In truth, he’d thought about ignoring the alarm. He had future plans for them, and with a dedicated nanny to supplement Lydia’s lack of executive function, he knew she’d make a great mother. But even the infamously morally gray Rustanovs had never stooped so low as to baby-trap a woman they loved—not intentionally, at least.

So he shook her awake to hand her two of her three daily pills.

She’d passed the orange-and-white capsule back to him that first time he tried to give her all three with a paper coffee cup of water. “Trust me, we do not want Adderall added into this… thrall—or whatever we’ve got going on here,” she’d assured him. “My heart’s already beating fast enough.”

Yom liked making Lydia’s heart beat too fast.

He also liked holding her down after sex with an arm barred across her stomach as he ate his latest load out of her sweet pussy.

But he’d yet to come himself that Wednesday.

He’d spent the entire morning engaged in hours of orgasm denial—retaliation for Lydia’s one and only attempt to revert to calling him “baby.”

“What’s the Russian word for wolf?” she asked, her voice shaky, body still quivering on the bed in the aftermath of back-to-back-to-back releases he gave her after all that denial.

“Volf,” he answered, his cock straining as he kissed down her trembling back.

Holding her at the edge had meant delaying his own release as well. He’d need to pull her beneath him again as soon as she recovered. Until then, he’d found a few new hotspots on her body over the past few days, and he was becoming addicted to the little tremors that ran through her whenever he touched, kissed, and licked her during her afterglow.

“Can I call you Volfie?” she asked. “Like Ruthie calls you Yommie?”

“I do not approve of this nickname,” he replied, voice flattening. “But her father is important family member. She takes advantage.”

“Aww, poor Yom.” Lydia mustered her strength, rising to her knees and pressing her hands to his chest.

He tipped onto his back, more out of bemused acquiescence than any real force on her part. “What are you doing, zayka?” he asked as she began kissing down his chest.

“Requesting a private lesson,” she murmured between soft pecks. She wrapped her hand around his straining cock. “So I can convince you to let me take advantage.”

With that, she swallowed his length into her pretty mouth.

Yom very nearly came at the sight of this alone.

But he could maintain control, he told himself….

This was something he’d spent countless shower hours envisioning as he frantically fisted his cock before school. He knew what to do—how to breathe through the nearly painful urge to release right away in the warmth of her mouth.

“Da, zayka. Exactly like that,” he said, leveling his voice out to appear calmer than he felt. “But you can have more. Tip head back, so you can take me deeper in throat—like sword swallower.”

Such a good girl, his Lydia was turning out to be. She did as instructed, scooting back to adjust her position, giving him a delectable view of her bottom in the process.

For the first time, he understood the instinct to touch a girl as she worked him like this. He threaded a hand into her hair, both to guide her and just to feel her softness as he murmured, “Good, good, zayka. You are pleasing me beyond words.”

Without prompting, she hollowed her cheeks, her mouth tightening around him. The sensation was almost too much, her warm lips drawing him in and making him lose control.

Yom wanted to savor this sight, to stretch out every second, but her eager mouth cut his resolve short. His balls tightened before he was ready, and a helpless grunt escaped him as he released into her, his body shuddering.

To his delight, she swallowed without being told, her throat working to keep up with his release. But his sweet, sweet zayka wasn’t done. She kept on sucking long after he finished, filling his oversensitive shaft with a too-intense tingling that was both painful and impossible to resist.

Even sated, he couldn’t let her get away with that.

“You want to be naughty, zayka, you will do naughty thing.”

He lifted her onto his lap, settling her over his spent length. “Grind on me until I am ready for you again. But do not dare come before I am inside, or you will pay for it.”

Again, she did as instructed, and again, it didn’t take long for his arousal to return. Her wet heat sliding back and forth over his shaft was more potent than any drug.

He watched her grind in his lap until she finally begged, “Could you… please put it in?”

“Nyet, play naughty games, win naughty prizes. If you want Daddy inside, you put him there.”

Her body shuddered dangerously at his words. Another hotel room discovery.

He’d been so concerned about upsetting her with his dominant ways. But there was something naturally submissive inside of Lydia. She liked it when he told her what to do—at least in bed.

After all that grinding, he could see her own resolve crumbling. For a moment, Yom thrilled at the thought of punishing her if she dared to come before completing his challenge.

But she gritted her teeth, bearing down as if to force back the wave of pleasure. Then she grasped him, slick with her arousal, and notched him at her entrance, sliding down onto him with a low groan. “Oh, God, Daddy! You’re in me even tighter in this position. It feels so good.”

Now, it was Yom’s turn to shudder. This was the first time she’d called him Daddy without being commanded.

However, he instantly regretted ever training her to say it in the next few moments. He’d wanted to draw things out, to tease her—but now she had complete control. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe, as she thrust herself up and down on him, building until she came with a shuddering cry. “Daddy, oh God, Daddy.”

Yom lost all restraint then. He flipped her onto her back, rutting into her like a wild beast, his mind giving over to pure animal instinct.

He couldn’t get deep enough, couldn’t get close enough. Digging his foot into the bed between her legs, he drove into her so hard she’d have hit the headboard if he didn’t have her completely pinned down to the mattress.

It was too much. For both of them. He bellowed, and she screamed into his shoulder, the climax overtaking them in a fire that consumed them, leaving only ashes.

Nyet, he decided at that moment. She wouldn’t be going back to school today. Or Thursday. Or Friday.

He felt himself begin to swell again inside her as he entertained thoughts of buying the hotel so they’d never have to leave—when Lydia suddenly screamed over his shoulder.

For a reason that had nothing to do with the pleasure they’d found in each other.

She slapped at his back, and he twisted around to see two people standing in the doorway.

An Asian man with long salt-and-pepper hair and a Black woman with both hands over her eyes.

Yom wished he did not recognize them. Then, he could have acted on his instinct to kill anyone who dared intrude into this room.

“Is it over yet?” Tasha Nakamura asked.

“Yes, it is,” her husband, Suro, answered in perfect English, lightly tinged with a Japanese accent. “Whether he wants it to be or not.”

Suro pressed his lips together, a warning glint in his eyes as he looked at Yom. “Your uncle sent me. It is time for the both of you to return to school.”