Page 84 of Mafia Prince's Secret Baby

He smirks.

When he captures my breast between his teeth, I gasp and writhe, begging for more. I need him to keep going and never stop.

“Kiss me again,” I plead.

My arms wrap around his neck, and I tug him down with me. He goes willingly, even though I can feel the last of his self-control crumble.

“Take me, Igor. Fill me with your thickness,” I demand.

He hesitates.

“Tell me if you’re in pain,” he growls. “Promise.”

“I’m okay. Only pleasure,” I assure him, even though there’s still a small sting.

At his questioning stare, I place my hands on his ass, pressing him close, not allowing him to pull back.

Finally, with no warning, he thrusts inside me.

“Igor,” I cry, and sink my nails into the flesh of his arm.

His big erection stretches me to my limits, the shock radiating outward, followed by intense pleasure.

“Katya,” he mutters hoarsely, gripping the back of my head. “Fuck. Stay still. I need to settle myself for a minute.”

With a swift, fluid movement, he leans in, capturing my mouth and sealing the words.

“Let me take care of you now.”

I stare at him, mouth agape. When he pulls back and thrusts inside me, the pleasure is so intense it steals my breath.

We are almost at the end of our rope, but neither of us is willing to stop. All that’s on my mind is satisfying the intense hunger I have for him.

Breathing comes with great difficulty. After a few powerful thrusts, he slows the tempo to something languid and romantic, giving both of us time to adjust to the connection.

There’s a sweet tickling in my belly—or maybe it’s on the surface of my skin. Or perhaps it’s centered inside of me. None of it matters. The only thing that does is the steady dance we fall into. The passion in his eyes and the way we’re connected prove how far we’ve come since we’ve met.

One of his hands roams to my rear, taking a firm grip and pulling me against him. My head grows lighter with each passing moment, and my desire to do something becomes dire and impossible to deny. At first, he doesn’t move, forcing me to take charge of our union. I want to take everything he has, and he lets me, without holding back.

I need him faster.

Harder.

Slowly, he starts thrusting, and the deeper he pushes into me, the closer I am to falling over the edge. Finally, something explodes within me.

“Igor,” I moan. My heart flutters.

He kisses my lips, then takes my breast into his mouth, his tongue rubbing circles against the sensitive flesh. I do the same, moving up and down his cock, working the vein on the back with everything I have.

My juices flood over his heavy sack. I can tell he’s close, too. He flips my legs, placing them over his shoulders as he rams into me in a lust-driven frenzy.

“Oh, fuck.Volchitsa,” he grunts, then releases my legs before he collapses on top of me.

Our foreheads touch, and I look into his darkened gaze. I wait as he holds me in his arms and twirls a strand of my hair. At this moment, I feel whole. The knowledge that I’ll be back in Russia soon, thousands of miles away from him, makes each moment more precious. My heart aches knowing our nights together are numbered. Minutes pass, but Igor doesn’t move an inch. He breathes heavily, chest heaving, while still lodged deep inside of me. My walls contract around his cock, savoring the sensation.

He kisses the corner of my mouth and whispers, “So fucking perfect, Katya. Made just for me, weren’t you?”

His words make me shiver, despite being burned alive by the fire surging through my body. He must know by now how weak I am, but he doesn’t use the power to his advantage. At least, not yet.