Page 19 of Mafia Pregnancy

Radmir

I ’ve been watching Danielle for weeks now, noting the way she slips through the house like smoke, finishing her work in rooms before I enter them and avoiding the spaces where we might be alone. After what happened in my office, she’s built solid brick walls between us.

I find her in the upstairs linen closet, folding towels with mechanical precision. The hallway is empty, servants occupied elsewhere, and she doesn’t notice me at first. I lean against the doorframe and watch her work, noting the way her shoulders tense when she finally senses my presence.

She turns, and for a moment, her veneer slips. I see want in her face before she rebuilds those barriers. “Mr. Vetrov, I’ll be finished here in just a moment.”

The formal distance in her voice irritates me more than it should. “Why are you avoiding me?”

She turns back to the towels, but her movements are less steady now. “I’m not. I’m simply doing my job.”

“You’re lying.”

Her hands still on the fabric. “I need to finish this and move to the guest rooms.”

She hastily folds the last towel before she moves toward the door, but I step into her path. The hallway is narrow here, and she’d have to push past me to leave. She stops just short of touching me, and her pulse is jumping at the base of her throat.

I step closer, and she doesn’t retreat. “You’re lying about something. I can see it in the way you won’t look at me directly anymore.”

She finally meets my gaze, defiance flickering there. “I don’t know what you mean.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, probably another deflection, but I’m done with this dance. I reach for her, pulling her against me before she can retreat. Her breath catches, but she doesn’t push me away. “Tell me what you’re hiding.”

“Nothing. I’m not?—”

I silence her with my mouth, kissing her hard enough to make her gasp. She yields to me instantly, her body melting against mine in a way that contradicts every word she’s spoken. When I back her against the wall, she comes willingly, fisting her hands in my shirt.

This isn’t gentle. This isn’t the careful exploration from my office. This is hunger and frustration and the need to claim what’s mine. I pin her wrists above her head with one hand while the other finds the hem of her blue polo shirt.

She arches into my touch despite her breathless protest. “Someone could see.”

I work the polo up her torso, skimming my fingers along the warm skin of her ribs. “Let them.”

She shudders when I trace the edge of her plain white bra, and the small sound she makes goes straight to my cock.

I push the polo higher, exposing her breasts to my view.

The practical cotton bra should be unremarkable, but the way it frames her curves makes my mouth go dry.

I can see her nipples through the thin fabric, already hard and straining against the material.

I drag my thumb across one peaked nipple, watching her reaction. “You’re so responsive. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

Even as she protests, she’s pressing closer, her body betraying her words. “You shouldn’t.”

I lean down to close my mouth over her nipple through the bra, applying just enough pressure to make her gasp. “Shouldn’t I? Shouldn’t think about how you taste? How you feel when you come apart for me?”

She threads her fingers through my hair, holding me against her breast. “This is insane. Anyone could walk by.”

I release her nipple and look up at her face, taking in her flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. “Let them watch. Let them see how beautiful you are when you lose control.”

I reach between us to unfasten her khakis, working at the button while she watches with heavy-lidded eyes. When I slide down the zipper, she makes a sound that’s half protest, half encouragement. I push them to the floor, and she steps out of them after kicking off her shoes.

Her whispered name on my lips sends fire through my veins. “Radmir...”

I stroke her mound slowly, watching her face as pleasure builds in her expression. “This is what you’ve been trying to hide from me? This is why you’ve been avoiding me?” She’s so slick, so responsive, and the knowledge that I can affect her this way sends heat shooting through my veins.

The word comes out as a broken whisper. “Please.”

I circle her clit with my thumb, applying just enough pressure to make her buck her hips against my hand. “Please, what? Tell me what you need.”

She gasps out her confession. “I need... God, I need you inside me.”

The admission is all the permission I need. I free my cock from my pants with fumbling urgency, already hard and aching. She reaches for me without hesitation, wrapping her fingers around my shaft and stroking with deliberate pressure that makes me groan.

My voice is rough with need when I manage to speak. “Fuck, Danielle. Just like that.”

She pumps her hand along my shaft, sweeping her thumb across the head to spread the moisture gathering there. The dual sensation of her touch and the sight of her hand on my cock nearly undoes me.

I catch her wrist to still her movements. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

She nods frantically, lifting one leg to wrap around my waist. I guide my cock to her entrance, moaning at the wet heat against my tip. When I push inside with one swift thrust, we both cry out at the sensation.

Her sheath is impossibly warm and perfect around me. The angle allows me to go deep, and her inner walls flutter as she adjusts to my size. For a moment, we stay perfectly still, both breathing hard.

She whispers against my ear, urgent and needy. “Move. Please, just move.”

I pull back almost completely before thrusting home again, setting a rhythm that has her clinging to my shoulders and gasping my name. The hallway fills with the sound of our breathing, the soft impact of her back against the wall, and the rustle of fabric as we move together.

I increase the pace, whispering against her ear. “You feel incredible. So fucking perfect. I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

She responds by tilting her hips to take me deeper, the movement sending waves of pleasure up my spine.

She’s getting close. I can tell by the way her breathing changes and her muscles start to tense around me.

I slide my hand between us to find her clit, applying pressure that makes her arch against me. “Don’t fight it. Give in, lyschka .”

The added stimulation pushes her over the edge. She bites down on my shoulder to muffle her cry as she comes, her pussy convulsing in waves that threaten to pull me under with her. The sensation of her muscles contracting around my cock is almost too much to bear.

I follow her moments later, burying my face in her neck as my own release overwhelms me. For several heartbeats, we stay pressed together, both trembling from the intensity of what just happened.

When we finally separate, she immediately begins straightening her clothes with shaking hands. The practical nature of the gesture somehow makes what we just did feel even more forbidden.

“This can’t happen again,” she says without looking at me.

“You keep saying that.” That comment earns me a glare of censure as I adjust my pants and straighten my shirt, studying her profile. “Because you’re worried about your job?”

“It’s true I can’t afford to lose this job.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Isn’t it?” She finally meets my gaze, and I see something there beyond desire. Fear, maybe. Or guilt. “What happens when people start talking? When the other staff notices? When this affects your business?”

“Let me worry about my business.”

“Easy for you to say.” The bitterness in her voice surprises me. “You’re not the one who’ll be labeled the help who sleeps with the boss.”

“Is that what you think this is?”

She snorts. “What else would it be?”

I step closer, and she doesn’t retreat. “What happened four years ago… Was that just sleeping with the boss too?”

She flinches. “That was different.”

I put my hand on her arm. “How was it different?”

“Because you weren’t my boss then. You were just...” She trails off, shaking her head.

“I was just some guy you picked up at a party?” My stomach clenches as I dread hearing her answer. I don’t want to be just that to her, a random one-night stand who was fun but nothing more.

She shies away from answering. “It doesn’t matter. That was then, and this is now. This have changed.”

I have to resist the temptation to kiss her again, knowing it might spark round two, and this really isn’t the appropriate place for fucking her. “Now that you work for me, this has to stop?”

“Yes.”

“What if there was another way?” I watch her expression carefully. “We could keep this between us. No one has to know. Just us for now.”

She starts to shake her head, but I step closer. “Unless there’s someone else in your life who wouldn’t appreciate this?”

Her eyes flash with something sharp and defensive. “You think that’s what this is? You think I’m playing some kind of game? That I’d sleep with you if I cared about someone else?”

“I have no idea what this is.” I reach up to trace the line of her jaw. “You tell me to stay away, then respond to me like you’re starving for my touch. You avoid me for weeks, then fall apart in my arms the moment I get close to you.”

Her glower deepens. “I’m not falling apart.”

“Then what would you call what just happened?”

She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t leave either. The silence stretches between us, heavy with things neither of us is saying. “I have responsibilities,” she says finally. “Complications you wouldn’t understand.”

“What kind of complications?”

Her features spasm for a moment as if she’s struggling to hide her reaction. “The kind that mean I can’t afford to want things I can’t have.”

I caress her cheek. “What makes you think you can’t have this?”

“Reality. Common sense. Everything about this situation.”

I cup her face gently. “What if I told you I don’t care about any of that?”

She meets my gaze directly. “You should care. We both should.”