Boss's Runaway Queen

Chapter 4 - Leo's P.O.V.

?Flashback?

A little over nine years ago,

Waking up in the middle of the night, wanting to hold my queen against me, I flip myself around in the bed, only for my arm to fall on her side, empty and cold.

“Mallory?” I say, sitting up, my sleepiness vanishing instantly.

Could she have gotten nauseous again? I thought that part of her pregnancy was over.

Getting out of bed, I notice the bathroom light is off.

Where could she be?

“Mallory?” I call again, walking out of our bedroom.

I cautiously walk down the hall, listening to any sound that could tell me where she was.

I hate this feeling of worry I get whenever I don't know where she is. Especially since our deal with the Berlusconi’s has fallen through.

Alexander is nothing like his father. At least with the older Berlusconi, we could have proper business talk. Things sure are different now. His son is such a bastarda.

The way he looked at Mallory when we came out of my office, made me want to put a bullet through his skull.

The smirk he wore as she was getting closer to us, trying to get her attention, angered me so deeply. But my Mallory paid him no attention, coming straight into my arms and kissing me. That kiss made such a statement. It told everyone that she was mine, and I was hers.

Suddenly, a clinking noise catches my attention.

That noise is coming from the kitchen.

Without making any sounds, I grab the hidden gun from under the decorative table Mallory insisted on placing in the hallway.

I slowly make my way to the kitchen entrance, staying out of view, but looking in from the doorframe. I let out a sigh of relief at the sight before me.

My very swollen Mallory is sitting on the floor in front of the fridge, digging directly into the ice cream container, dancing with every bite she takes.

I can’t help but smile at the sight.

“What do we have here?” I gently say, placing the gun back where it was and out of her sight,

Mallory knows exactly what I do and how I obtain what I need, but she never liked the sight of my guns. In most situations. Although she told me that if someone ever threaten our child, she would gladly pick up one to protect her.

She jumps, placing one hand over her heart.

“You scared the bejesus out of me! Don’t sneak up on me like that! I’ll pee myself again!” She says, scrunching up her nose.

“I’m sorry my queen, but I woke up and you were gone. You should have woken me up if you were hungry. I would have gotten your food for you.” I say, pointing at the ice cream container between her legs, sitting down next to her.

She fills her spoon again and offers it to me. Lowering my head to eat it, she pulls it back. I give her a pointed look as she places the spoon closer again. But as soon as I pull forwards, she takes it back and stuffs it in her mouth, moaning, licking the spoon clean.

The sound of her moan entices my lust.

“See anything you like, my king?” She says, licking the backside of her spoon, knowing full well what she’s doing to me.

“Oh, yes. I do,” I say, grabbing the back of her head swiftly, and kissing her passionately. In no time, she responds to my fever, lacing he arms around my neck.

I gently pick her up and make her straddle me, pulling backward the hair on the nape of her neck, giving me better access.

Oh, I love this goddess of mine. The things she makes me feel…

Her moan only encourages me to ravish her more.

Gently, I lay her on her back. We use to f**k hard on any and every surface we could find, but ever since she’s gotten pregnant, I’m a lot more careful with her.

I’ll be damn if I do anything that could harm my unborn child, my prinssessa.

Pulling down the strap of her nightgown, letting her breast fall free, I gently cup it, placing my mouth on her hardened n****e.

Her moan only encouraged me to explore more of her delicious body.

She drops her spoon on the floor, making it rattle on the hard tiles of the kitchen. While placing her arms on the hem of my shirt, trying to take it off.

“Are you not hungry anymore, my queen?” I ask, teasing her other n****e with my teeth gently.

“Yes, no. I mean yes, but not for food. Not anymore.” She breathlessly whimpers, wrapping her legs around me, bucking her hips forwards, trying to create friction.

Grabbing the spoon that fell, I stick it into the ice cream container, filling it generously.

“What are you doing?” She asks, looking at the spoon, confused.

“You made me want some ice cream too.”

“Seriously? You’re just going to stop this and eat ice cream?” She says, frustration evident on her tender features.

“Yes. But I want mine on a delicious plate.

She goes to say something else, but I push her back down, tearing her lacy underwear at the same time, making her squeal as I empty out the spoon on her rosy slit.

“Oh, good god!” She says, a hand over her mouth.

I lower myself between her legs and lick the melting cookie dough ice cream off of her. Lapping it as if I were a man in a desert, finally finding water to quench my thirst.

“P-please, don’t s-stop, Mmmmh,”

Her breathing becomes erratic as her hips move even faster against my mouth, giving her the pressure she craves against her c**t.

I know she closes.

Caressing her slit with two fingers, I push them in with ease.

“You are so wet for me, my queen,” I mumble against her p***y, the vibration of my words giving her more pleasure.

Curling my fingers, I pushed them further in, finding the exact spot I knew would make her come undone.

“Oh, f-f**k, YES!” She screams, her body shaking, and her p***y pulsates on my fingers.

Keeping my fingers in, flexing them a few more times as she comes down from her high, I kiss her inner thigh.

“That was amazing.” She says breathlessly.

“Oh, darling, I’m just getting started,” I say, giving her a devilish smirk, picking her up and taking her to our bedroom, ravishing her a few more times before we are both spent for the night. Or should I say, early morning?