Page 8 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

His suggestive words open a floodgate of visuals that are unapologetically naughty. Before I can stop it, I imagine myself on my knees, my lips wrapped around his gorgeous cock, worshipping him.

In the next heartbeat, the image changes. One moment, I’m holding his length, teasing it, pushing my tongue over the head, driving him crazy with slow strokes down the shaft. But then we lock eyes, and I realize that no man has ever looked at me with such a hungry gaze, as if I was a goddess and a temptress wrapped into one sultry being. No man has ever given me more freedom to be myself, and yet been this demanding and all consuming.

When I can no longer take the agonizingly slow torture he inflicts upon me, I throw myself at him, pushing him back with so much force we both stumble backward against the door. Our bodies clash, but neither of us seems to mind. This is too damn exciting.

His blue eyes turn dark, a shade I recognize as a prelude to mind-blowing orgasms. I force myself to remember that despite my undeniable attraction to him, I’ll never give him more than my body. That’s all he can have. And still, something inside of me recoils.

My self-control’s lacking in this equation, and when he lifts me in his arms, I waste no time wrapping my legs around his waist, my dress riding higher up my thighs. His length rests comfortably against my pussy, so snug I could drop my body just a little to grind against him and ruin us both.

I tip my head down. His lips are mere millimeters away from mine, but not only because of the height difference. If I wanted to, I could kiss him. The need is there. It fills me with a fluttering of desire, but I don’t allow myself to go there.

“You feel so good against me,” he breathes, his muscles taut as he holds me in his arms. “I bet you’d feel even better without your clothes on. I’ve been dreaming of seeing you naked. I’ve been fantasizing about your breasts. We didn’t have nearly enough time in that garden for me to worship you the way you deserve.”

“You better get moving then,” I tell him, trying to feign control. “I have other plans after this.”

It’s a lie, but what else am I supposed to do? This is nothing but an opportunity to get him out of my system. Tomorrow, we can both pretend as though is this didn’t happen. One night’s all I can allow myself. It’s how long I can afford to let go.

He starts walking toward the bedroom, lifting me a little higher with every step. I fiddle with his shirt, unbuttoning it the best I can. My fingers aren’t getting a lot of work done because I’m too busy admiring him, running my gaze down his six-pack and the iliac furrow pointing straight down to his crotch. God, I can’t wait for that moment, when his length fits perfectly snug inside me.

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath. “You have a great ass. I could even tell it was magnificent under that judge’s robe.”

I twist my hips a little and wrap my hand around the long column of his neck, pulling his head up to meet me. His stubble rubs against my palm, and I tighten the hold, dragging my lips across the line of his jaw. The faint scent of his cologne is enough to speed up my heart. Or is it the rush of adrenaline that comes from holding a powerful man right in the palm of my hand? I slide down the hard edge of his cock pressing against his pants. Closing my eyes, I press my cheek against the crook of his neck and inhale deeply. My every sense is in tune with his body, with his hardness and the strong beat of his heart thumping against my chest.

He crashes us on the bed, one hand coming up to cup my ass. He pulls my body to his hips, aligning us until our groins are flush against each other. The slightest shift of his body sends a jolt of pleasure through me. I smile, allowing myself to bask in the incredible feeling.

“Fuck me like you mean it, Igor.”

3

IGOR

It’s the most beautiful order I’ve ever been given.

Even though I hate orders, I learned to follow them.

But now, being asked to please a beautiful woman—one I already know will blow my mind—it’s not hard to obey.

Whatever she asks me to do, I will.

If she doesn’t want me to talk about the case, I won’t mention it until she’s had so many orgasms she can’t even remember her own name.

Then I’ll remind her. Though I’m putting her first right now, I won’t completely forsake my duty.

She doesn’t waste any time. She tears the rest of my buttons off and exposes me completely. Licking her puffy lips as if I’m a feast, she wraps her hands around my wrists and pushes me to the bed, on my back.

She cages me in with her body, an angel, then leans forward to take my nipple into her mouth.

I let her have a semblance of control. I want to make her come over and over. Fuck, I need to taste her lips, to imprint my own flavor upon hers, make sure she hasn’t forgotten it.

After I flip us over, she playfully bites my shoulder. “I was having fun, you know,” she pouts in a voice completely unlike her. Then she gives me a wide-eyed look, batting her dark, thick lashes at me, and bites her lower lip. When her hands run over my pecs to travel to my length, my entire frame convulses, a primal instinct taking over.

Push and pull is what we’ll do tonight. Katya will make me get close, then push me away just when I’m about to combust.

I can’t say I hate it.

Ever since Katya walked into my life six years ago, I haven’t thought of another woman the same way. Even when I was fucking someone else, it was the image of her face that was on my mind, the phantom feel of her pussy wrapped around my cock. But as time went by, the memories of her became fuzzier

And now I want to create a new memory. After seeing her again, I realized I can’t escape the pull she has on me. Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to make her mine.

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