Page 3 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

He pushes me to my knees with so much force, I’m stunned into silence. I swallow, looking up at his blue-gray irises—darker than before, almost navy now. They flash as I reach for the bulge straining his tailored pants.

As I unbuckle him, his hand fists in my hair, and I relish the pull. When I release him from his confines, his dick juts up.

Fuck, he’s big.

Arousal slithers down my thighs, alerting me that I should play it carefully. Who knows what sex with him could make me say and agree to.

I have to remind myself that this is a one-time deal.

Tomorrow morning, I’ll be taking the first flight back to Moscow.

But right now, I’m going to enjoy him. I’m going to have fun.

After giving him a slow, tight stroke, I grin. There’s a tiny bit of hesitancy in his otherwise calculated and practiced moves. I never expected it from someone like Igor, and I can’t say I hate it. In fact, it sets me off in a twisted sort of way,encouraging me to look for more.

Running my tongue over his warm flesh, I circle the head, lapping the pre-cum seeping in a thin line. I tease him with slow strokes of my tongue, not letting him know yet how badly I want him to sink into me, how terribly I crave having him.

Before I lose my cool facade and let him touch the hot core throbbing between my thighs, I drag him past the edge of my tongue and into my mouth. It takes some maneuvering before he fits completely, but the second his throbbing rod slides all the way in, the hard tip of his dick rubbing against the inner flesh of my throat, I moan, the sound vibrating against his body.

“Oh, fuck.” He grits his teeth, pounding into me. My gag reflex works, my saliva thickening. But he pulls out fast, leaving a rush of cold air in his place. “Not like this.”

Then his hands are on my shoulders, pulling me up.

“I want to enjoy you as long as possible.”

This time, he grips me tight with both hands, turning me to face the water fountain and pushing my chest over the edge.

My fingers curl around the stone as he bunches the dress up my back, hiking it up to the pinnacle of my ass. It’s chilly out here, but his erection pressing against my butt cheek is anything but. His cock is thick and throbbing, wanting a taste of my wet pussy. And boy, he’s in for a treat. My panties are damp, eager to have his slickness mix with mine.

At this point, no sound in the world can penetrate the space around us. All I hear is my harsh breathing. I clench my teeth, gasping when he roughly grabs me and tears my panties off. He strokes his length several times before burying himself deep inside of me. We grunt in unison, and, as if we’re not even human, we go on a primitive rampage, completely blinded by the carnal cravings that overtake our senses.

There’s nothing gentle about the way I fuck his rock-hard dick. I grind and slide my body on his, meeting him midwayevery time he pounds into me. I push myself up and bend my back, tipping my head to rest on his firm shoulders.

His blue eyes land on me as he keeps thrusting. With a sly smirk, he trails a hand over my ass and then wraps an arm around me, placing two fingers in front of my lips. I take them in my mouth, sucking and moaning against them as he rocks his body into mine.

“You’re making it extremely difficult to extend this for as long as possible,” he says with a grunt, not breaking eye contact.

His dick pulses, my legs are quivering, my throat’s gone dry, and yet, the orgasm I’m chasing feels like it’s miles and miles away.

He trails his soaked fingers to my clit, rubbing the most erogenous spot of a woman in a practiced move that turns me into a vile, needy whore.

“There we go,” he praises in a low voice, and I buck, my thighs clenching as he fucks me harder, his cock gliding in and out, faster, pounding all my worries away. “Come for me, Katya.”

And I do.

Hard.

My spine goes limp as I crash forward, and if it weren’t for the steady power of his frame, I’d nearly be splashing into the water fountain. He pulls me back and sucks my skin in between his teeth, biting the soft flesh, groaning, spilling inside me.

All that remains is heavy breathing as the wind rustles the air, playing with the discarded piece of fabric on the ground. But I can’t bear to think about my torn panties right now. It doesn’t bother me, the post-orgasmic high clouding my vision and thoughts.

None of it matters. This was just a one-time deal anyway.

1

IGOR

Six years later

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