Page 82 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

But I don’t want him to.

“Katya,” he whispers, his voice a low, gravelly growl that rumbles through my chest. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” My reply is immediate, without hesitation. “I’m fine, Igor. I need you.”

I let my hands wander over his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his warm skin. His body feels like it was built to dominate, and yet here he is, treating me as if I’m made of glass.

He swallows hard, his jaw tight as though he’s wrestling with himself. His restraint is both admirable and infuriating. I don’t want gentleness. I don’t want him to be careful. I want him to unleash whatever fire he’s keeping locked away.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice shaking with need. “I want to feel you inside me. I want to forget everything else. Just you and me, Igor.”

His grip on my waist tightens, his fingers digging into my skin as his self-control frays. His dark eyes search mine again, and I can see the war raging inside him—desire battling with the protective instinct that’s dominated his every move since he brought me home from the hospital.

“You’ve been through a lot,volchitsa,” he murmurs, his forehead dipping lower until his lips brush my temple. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I promise, my voice firm. I pull back slightly, enough to look him in the eyes and make sure he understands. “You’ll only make me feel good. And I trust you.”

Those words hang between us, heavy with meaning. His eyes soften for a moment, the sharp edge of his worry dulling. And then, like a dam breaking, his resolve shatters.

His lips crash into mine, all hesitation gone. The kiss is rough, urgent, and consuming, exactly what I’ve been asking for. His hands slide up my back, tangling in my hair as he pulls me closer, like he can’t get enough of me. My body responds instantly, heat pooling between my thighs as I press myself against him.

He shifts, rolling me beneath him with a careful but firm motion. His weight presses down on me, grounding me, making me feel safe and desired all at once. My fingers explore his broad shoulders, his powerful back, the hard lines of his body sculpted just for me.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice rough with emotion. “Do you even know what you do to me, Katya?”

I smile against his mouth, arching into him as his lips trail down my neck, leaving a path of heat in their wake. “I could ask you the same thing,” I whisper, my voice breathless.

His hands slide beneath the hem of my shirt, his rough palms skimming over my skin as he explores every inch of me. It’s intoxicating, the way he touches me—like he’s memorizing me.

“I’ve wanted this,” he confesses, his voice a rasp in the quiet of the room. “For a long time.”

“Then don’t stop,” I urge him, my nails digging lightly into his shoulders. “Unravel me.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes blazing with an intensity that makes my breath hitch. “You’re mine, Katya,” he growls, his voice thick with possession. “Do you understand that? There’s no going back from here.”

I stay silent, the weight of his words pressing on me. Noticing my hesitation, he pounces, grabbing my face and locking our lips. The heat brewing in me explodes, shooting sparks from my core.

He angles his mouth, swiping his tongue across my lower lip. It drives me insane, eager for more of his delicious taste.Closer, I want him closer. I crush my mouth to his, inviting him to play with me. My other hand ends up wrapped around the bulge between his legs. Eagerly, I run a finger over his rock-hard cock, savoring the shivers traveling through his chest.

The smell of his male lust fills the air, adding to my desperation. My fingers dive beneath the fabric of his underwear. Warm, smooth skin meets my touch, making me buck my hips against him.

Igor covers my body with his. His erection, bulging through his boxer briefs, grinds against my inner thigh. Grabbing his ass, I urge him to kiss me once more.

“Damn it,volchitsa,” he exhales, breaking away. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” I assure him. “I’m all better now.”

My shortness of breath doesn’t persuade him. Even worse, he doesn’t realize how close I am to exploding. Heaving and panting, I practically beg him to take me.

“Please, Igor, make love to me,” I whisper, letting him know just how much I mean it.

He stills. Igor’s gaze swims with desire and conflicting emotions.

After blinking away his hesitation, his cold blue gaze connects with mine. The air in the room thickens, and tension rises from within him.

“Do you promise you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” he asks, an edge to his tone.

“Only pleasure, Igor,” I assure him.

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