Page 80 of Stolen By the Don

Where’s the victory declaration? The waving flag to let everyone know he’s won?

Roman walks into my room, his hands stuck firmly to his sides. “Solnyshko,” he whispers as he stops in front of me. Slowly, almost reverently, his hand cups my face. “You have no idea what this means.”

“I do,” I say tightly, though my voice wavers. “You wanted an heir. Proof that my father’s bloodline would end with him or me. You got what you wanted.”

“Revenge?” His voice deepens, rich and low, threaded with a hint of something tender. “You think that’s all this is?” He leans in closer. “You became mine the moment I took you. Don’t pretend I needed a child to keep you.”

“Then what is it?” I whisper, trying to hold his gaze even as it scorches me. “What is this?”

Love? I doubt it. He wouldn’t fall for a traitor’s daughter.

Roman doesn’t give me words. But when his lips touch mine, it feels like a promise. A lifeline that I cling to, wrapping my fingers around a fistful of his shirt as his mouth devours mine—ravenous, possessive, aching with a feeling deeper than lust.

When he finally breaks away, his lips don’t stray far. They trail down my jaw and across my throat, hot and commanding. “You’re mine,” he breathes against my skin, his voice rough, like gravel. “You’ve always been mine.”

I feel it vaguely when my back hits the wall because he’s right there with his arms around my waist, pulling me close.

“Moya,” he murmurs. Words I barely know the meaning to, but each one sends a flutter through my stomach. He pulls my shirtover my head, tossing it to the floor before his lips capture mine again—his tongue thrusting into my mouth.

I wrap my arms around his neck, pressing into him as his hands slide lower, gripping beneath my thighs. With one swift motion, he lifts me, and I gasp, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct.

My back brushes the wall again before he turns, carrying me through the room like I weigh nothing. Each step is deliberate, his mouth never leaving mine, lips dragging across my jaw, my throat. The low sound in his chest vibrates against me, awakening something primal and hungry.

Then the bed catches me, soft and cold sheets against my back as he lays me down, moving over me in a blur of heat and strength.

“How long did you plan on hiding it?” he asks as his thumb strokes my cheek.

I shake my head. “I don’t know.”

“Printsessa.”He shakes his head. “It’s not a good idea to hide things from me, you know. I’ll always find out.”

Whatever response I could’ve had to that vanishes as he slides down my body, his mouth traveling over my skin, leaving kisses on every inch…until it feels like my body belongs to him.

Truly.

And when he makes love to me—my arms wrapped around his chest and my legs curled up, pulling him closer, it feels gentle and firm, almost like a promise etched in my mind.

“Roman.” His name falls from my lips with a cry.

He kisses me fiercely, his hips bearing down on mine. “Come for me, my love.”

It feels so good, so intense that it brings me to stillness before I fall, feeling my body and mind shatter into a million pieces.

All of them belonging to him.

24

ROMAN

The glass of wine in my hand remains untouched, sweat beading along the crystal stem. I stare blankly into the dark liquid, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, until Leo’s voice cuts through the silence.

“Rough night?” he asks, stepping in like he owns the place. He plucks the glass from my hand and takes a casual sip. Setting it on the counter, he cocks his head. “Did you find out what’s wrong with your wife?”

Yes. She’s pregnant. Carrying my child.

I’ve said it a hundred times in my head and still can’t wrap my mind around it.

Leo sighs when I don’t respond, louder this time, irritation creeping into his tone. “I was the one who drove her to the hospital, Roman. I think I deserve an answer, don’t you?”

---