Page 10 of Oops Baby for the Mafia Boss

And I do too. Because this feels amazing.

But the air is thick with magic, so I force the question, a note of panic in my voice. “What’s happening?”

His purple gaze is softer than I’ve ever seen it when he strokes his fingers up and down my neck. “You feel it too, don’t you? Where’s yours? I didn’t see it on your arms the other day.”

The narrator’s tone is deep and as sweet as syrup.

Markov and I are staring at each other, our hands layered over his chest, my head tipped back because he’s so much taller than me, his dipped, and his expression serious. All that delicious focus on me. On my face.

Markov is a hot, dangerous Russian mafia boss. This is insane. I’m vibrating with fear, but I’m held in place by the audiobook and Markov’s grey eyes.

“Where’s my what?” It’s getting difficult to concentrate.

“Your mate mark,” Rovaj says slowly.

“My what?” He can’t have said what I think he did. My heart pounds erratically, a drum of war.

“Didn’t you know?” He skims his hand down my shoulder, over my clothes and the sensation eases.

This must be a dream.

Markov shifts at the same time as the narrator says the line, as though choreographed, and I have the contradictory impulse to lean into his touch, and also to hide.

Because I have a mark too.

“Didn’t I know what?” But that’s a lie. There’s understanding at the edge of my mind. And witches’ curse, he’s in my head. In my blood. On my skin.

“You’re my mate.” But his lips remain still. I hear his words as a low purr that echoes in my mind, and his hand drags at the fabric at my waist.

Arousal washes into me as Markov does the same, curling at my cotton top, not looking away from my face.

And that’s fine. He won’t see the birthmark on my thigh and tease me like the girls at school used to. Nothing to worry about.

“Get out of my head,” I snap, aloud. I don’t mean it. Rovaj’s voice is as seductive as honey and rose petals. And he does. But, it’s only to lean in?—

Oh my god. Markov gradually closes the distance between us, easily slow enough that if I wanted to, I could duck out of the way. I don’t want to.

He gathers me into his chest until we share breath, his a warm teasing whisper of mountain breeze against my lips. Then he leans towards me, holding my head in place as his lips capture mine.

Our mouths meet, and Markov’s lips are soft and full. He’s almost tentative as he kisses me in brushes that set me alight. I didn’t know kissing could feel so good. I’ve never kissed a man before, and Markov seems intent on luring me with his big, protective body over mine and his lips that are made for this.

But instead of feeling like he’s teaching me, it’s as though this is a mutual exploration, even as I’m freaking out that I am kissing a deadly mafia boss who has never spoken to me.

Our tongues dance together, an equal give and take. His kiss makes my head spin with how right it is.

I realise I haven’t been listening to the audiobook, and they’ve kissed too.

And I just kissed my boss. My stomach dissolves. I’ve lost my mind, but they kissed in the book, so this is okay. It’s just playing along. It means nothing.

As Markov pauses our kiss, his breath warm on my cheek as he slides his mouth away, I want to chase him. Kiss the scary Bratva Pakhan twice my age again.

The logical part of my brain is yelling and freaking out, but it’s almost impossible to hear over the audiobook and the riot of sensation from being held and kissed by Markov.

“Where is it, Solene?” Rovaj pulls back only an inch, his face shadowed in the firelight. “Show me your mate mark.” Lidded eyes spear mine, hazy with desire.

Heat blooms over my limbs. Then his questing hand discovers skin, and I can’t restrain the moan of pleasure as he caresses my hip.

At the same time, Markov touches my tummy, his fingers gentle, as though he can hardly believe I’m allowing this. I’m not capable of anything but continuing to melt. I think I’m held up by the magnetic force between us, and my inability to move for fear that this could all be a fever dream.