Page 11 of Mafia Pregnancy

He works me through it, holding my hips steady until I’m weak and gasping. When I finally come back to myself, he’s kissing his way back up my body, and I taste myself on his lips when he claims my mouth. We share more kisses before he speaks against my lips. “Better than I remembered.”

I reach for his belt, suddenly desperate to return the favor, to make him feel as desperate as he’s made me. “My turn.”

He catches my hands. “Danielle?—”

“Your guests don’t arrive for an hour.” I work at his belt buckle with hands that shake slightly from aftershocks. “I want to taste you too.”

His control snaps at my words. He helps me with his clothes, and when I see his cock fully aroused, my mouth waters with anticipation. His shaft is thick and broad. He’s gorgeous, exactly as I remembered, and the knowledge I can affect him this way makes me feel powerful.

I drop to my knees, appreciating the expensive carpet beneath me that cushions my knees. When I take his cock in my mouth, he grips the edge of his desk with white knuckles.

“Fuck.” The word comes out rough and desperate. “Danielle…”

I work him with lips and tongue, licking and sucking.

When I take his cock to the back of my throat and swallow, he lets out a harsh gasp.

That and the other sounds he makes encourage me to take him deeper and to use my hands on what I can’t fit in my mouth.

I grip the base of his erection and twist counterpoint to the way I’m swirling my mouth, all while applying suction.

His hand tangles in my hair. “You’re going to kill me.”

I pull back to look up at him, enjoying the way his eyes are dark with need. “Good. You deserve it.”

He laughs roughly, the sound strained. “Probably.”

When I lean forward to take him again, he stops me. “Not like this. When I come, I want to be inside you.”

The words send heat pooling low in my belly, making my pussy wet all over again. He helps me to my feet and backs me toward his desk, kissing me like I’m oxygen, and he hasn’t breathed properly in four years.

A bit of common sense reasserts itself, and I break the kiss to ask breathlessly, “Do you have protection?”

He reaches into his desk drawer and produces a condom.

I take it from him with hands that are shaking with anticipation now.

“Let me.” I tear open the packet and roll the latex down his shaft, enjoying the way his breath alters at my touch.

When I’m finished, he lifts me onto the edge of his desk and positions himself between my thighs.

He looks into my eyes, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

Before he can speak, I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer.

Guided by his hand, his cock enters me slowly, giving me time to adjust, and the sensation of being filled completely makes me gasp.

I haven’t had sex in four years, and this is so much better than my vibrator.

His forehead rests against mine. “Okay?”

I breathe out shakily. “More than okay.”

He begins to move, setting a rhythm that has me clinging to his shoulders and gasping his name. Every thrust hits exactly the right spot, and another climax builds embarrassingly quickly.

He groans against my ear. “You feel incredible. So tight, so wet, and so perfect.”

I groan. “Harder.”

He responds immediately, snapping his hips against mine with increased force.

The new angle makes my pussy clench and ache at the same time.

Instinctively, I rake my nails down his back as pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak.

The knowledge that his business associates could arrive any moment only makes everything more intense.

He slides his hand between us to find my clit so he can send me over the edge. “Come for me. Let me feel you come around me again. It’s been far too long.”

I shatter around him, clenching my inner walls as another orgasm tears through me. The sensation triggers his own release, and he buries his face in my neck as he follows me over the edge with a muffled groan. His cum is warm but blocked by the condom as he surrenders to his climax.

We collapse together, breathing hard, with our bodies still joined. Awareness slowly returns, and I can hear the distant sounds of dinner preparation echoing through the house.

Reality crashes back over me in waves. We just had sex in his office while his staff prepared for an important business dinner.

I’m supposed to be setting his formal dining table, not falling apart in his arms like a woman who has secrets he can’t know.

“Your guests,” I manage to say, still breathless.

He pulls back to look at me, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I have forty-five minutes. That’s plenty of time for you to finish the table setting.”

How emotionless he sounds, switching back to the tasks at hand. I strive for the same, proud of how cool and calm I sound. “That’s also plenty of time for you to prepare for dinner.”

He nods slowly. “Yes.” He briefly alludes to what just happened. “I won’t have to undress before my shower now, since there’s an elevator that leads to my bedroom on the floor above.”

I glance at it, recalling swiping it down with the duster on my second day here. He’d been blessedly absent during the process. “Yes.”

He withdraws carefully and disposes of the condom while I try to regain my composure. Neither of us moves to separate completely, suspended in this moment of stolen intimacy that feels both familiar and completely new. “This doesn’t change anything,” I say finally, though my voice lacks conviction.

He tilts his head. “Doesn’t it?”

I shake my head. “It can’t. You have business to conduct, and I have a job to do.

” I also need to hide Leo’s existence from him.

I still can’t be sure how he’d react to that knowledge.

If there’s even the slightest chance he’d try to take Leo—or if his world is as dangerous as he’s subtly implied—I can’t risk letting them know each other.

He nods slowly, but I see the conflict in his eyes. “The table setting needs to be finished, so you’ll have to hurry.”

I slide off his desk on unsteady legs. “I know.” I begin redressing with shaking hands.

My polo shirt is wrinkled, my hair mussed, and I probably look exactly like a woman who just had desperate sex with her employer.

I find my panties and slip them on, ignoring how uncomfortable they are with the crotch so damp, and slip on my pants.

He watches me smooth my hair. “There’s a powder room down the hall. Fix whatever you need to fix, and I’ll make sure the coast is clear.”

I nod gratefully. “Thank you.” I move toward the door, then pause. “Radmir?”

He looks up from tucking his shirt back in, and for a moment I see a flash of the man who just held me like I was precious.

“This can’t happen again.”

His expression goes carefully neutral. “I know.”

“I mean it. I can’t afford to lose this job, and you can’t afford distractions from whatever it is you really do.”

He straightens his tie. “I understand.”

I sound assertive and want to mean it, but as I slip out of his office and hurry to the powder room, I’m not sure either of us believes it.

The attraction between us is too strong, and the pull is too magnetic.

We’ve stupidly acknowledged a connection that’s been simmering beneath the surface since the moment I walked back into his life.

When I return to the formal dining room ten minutes later, it feels different somehow. The table where I need to set the china, arrange the silverware, and position the crystal glasses with perfect precision is exactly as I left it, but I feel fundamentally changed.

I work quickly, using the detailed instructions, including a picture diagram, Mrs. Yranda provided to create a table setting worthy of Radmir’s business associates.

I place each piece of silverware with precision, fold each napkin to exact specifications, and position each water glass at the proper angle.

The work is meditative, allowing me to regain my composure and remember who I am in this house.

I’m the hired help, and only the woman who cleans and sets tables.

I must remain invisible to the important people, who make decisions that affect millions of dollars.

I’m not the woman who just fell apart in Radmir Vetrov’s arms, and I can’t be.

It was never more than a transitory illusion both times, and I have to resist further temptation.

By the time I finish, the table is perfect.

Museum-quality china creates an air of refined elegance, crystal glasses sparkle like diamonds, and the silverware gleams against pristine white linens.

It’s a setting that speaks to wealth, power, and the careful attention to detail that separates the elite from everyone else.

I’m gathering my cleaning supplies when I hear voices in the front hall. They’re mostly male voices, confident and commanding, and speaking in accents that suggest international business dealings. Radmir’s guests have arrived.

I slip out through the service hallway, invisible as I’m supposed to be.

I’m just another member of the household staff who makes his life run smoothly, apparently including a random orgasm.

I stifle the laugh that would surely emerge with a sharp edge.

When I hear his voice greeting his associates, I can’t shake the memory of how he sounded when he whispered my name.

This afternoon changed everything between us, whether we want to admit it.

The question now is what we’re going to do about it.

My plan is to return to denial, aloofness, and pretense.

I can go on pretending he doesn’t matter to me, and he’s a stranger.

It’s true in most ways, and I have too much to lose for casual pleasure that ends with nothing but unhappiness.