Pregnant For the Mafia Boss

Chapter 2

ISABELLA POV

The last visitor left, and the door clicked shut.

And then silence.

"Isabella." He growls my name. "What the f**k do you think you're doing?"

I could have stayed hidden or pretended to be innocent, or even played it safe.

Instead, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his inner thigh, feeling his thigh muscles jump under my touch.

"Bella..." His voice was strangled.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Viktor." I kept my voice low and sultry, everything I'd practiced in front of my mirror for the past week. "Stop treating me like one."

"Get out from under there. Now."

"Make me."

Wrong thing to say. Or maybe exactly the right thing, because suddenly Viktor was moving... his chair rolls back and his hand fisting in my hair thugs me harder now, pulling me out from under the desk with a force that should have scared me but instead sent electricity racing down my spine.

He hauled me up, and before I could catch my balance, he pressed me against the desk and used his body to cage me in, putting his face inches from mine.

And God, he was magnificent. He is all hard angles and barely controlled rage; his ice-blue eyes are burning with a fire that definitely wasn't paternal concern.

"What the hell are you wearing?" His gaze raked over my red dress, tight, short, completely inappropriate for a 'child'.

"Do you like it?" I tried to sound confident, but my voice came out breathless.

"That's not the point." His jaw clenched. "You can't be in here. You can't... Bella, this isn't appropriate."

"I don't care about appropriate." I reached up, fingers trailing down his tie. "I care about you. About this." I pressed closer, feeling every hard plane of his body against mine. "I care about what's been between us since I turned eighteen."

"You're imagining things." But his hands were on my waist now, holding me in place. Or holding himself back. Hard to tell.

"Am I?" I tilted my head up, my lips almost touching his. "Then why are you hard right now? Why haven't you pushed me away? Why..."

He kissed me.

No, that was too gentle a word. He devoured me. His mouth crashes against mine, and his tongue demands entrance into mine; his hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise. It was everything I'd dreamed of and nothing like I'd imagined; it is rougher, more desperate, and edged with a violence that should have terrified me or even anyone, for that matter, but instead made me moan into his mouth.

"f**k," he breathed against my lips, pulling back just enough to look at me. "f**k, Bella, we can't..."

"We can." I fisted my hands in his shirt. "We are. Viktor, please. I've waited so long. I've wanted you for so long, and I know you want it too."

"You don't know what you're asking." But his restless hands were moving, sliding up my sides, and his thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. "You don't know what I am or what I'm capable of."

"Show me." I pulled him back down, kissing him with all the pent-up longing of three years. "Show me everything."

For a moment, he resisted. I could feel the war inside him, honor versus desire, responsibility versus want. His whole body trembled with the effort of holding back.

Then something broke.

His mouth was on my throat, his teeth scraping against my pulse point. "This is wrong. You know that, right? This is so f*****g wrong."

"I don't care." I arched into him. "I want you. Only you. Always you."

"Jesus Christ." He lifted me onto the desk, papers scattering. "If we do this... Bella, if we do this, there's no going back."

"Good." I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I don't want to go back. I want to go forward. With you."

He stared at me, and I saw it all in his eyes, the want, the guilt, the fear, the desperation, and aching need that matched my own.

"Please," I whispered, cupping his face. "Viktor, please. Just love me, even if for one night, just let yourself love me."

That did it. Whatever wall he'd been maintaining shattered completely. His mouth found mine again, and this time there was no hesitation, no pulling back. Just desperate, consuming want.

His hands found the zipper of my dress. "Have you done this before?"

The question was rough, barely controlled.

"No." I met his gaze, unflinching. "I waited for you."

I saw the moment it hit him, what that meant, what I was offering. His eyes darkened, pupils blown wide.

"f**k. Bella..."

"Stop overthinking it." I kissed him again, my fingers working the buttons of his shirt. "Stop being the responsible guardian. Stop being the man who's afraid to want things. Just... be with me. Please."

He pulled back just enough to look at me, really look at me. And whatever he saw in my face, maybe the love, the determination, the desperate longing, made his decision.

"Last chance," he growled. "Tell me to stop, and I will. Tell me to walk away, and I'll never mention this again."

"Don't you dare stop," I commanded, channeling every ounce of Volkov steel my father had passed down to me. "Don't you dare walk away from me. Not tonight."

His eyes flashed. "You have no idea what you're asking for."

"Then show me."

He did, oh, he did

Viktor’s hands were shaking, only a little, but I felt it when he gripped the zipper at the back of my dress. The metal teeth parted slowly and deliberately, the sound so unnaturally loud in the quiet office. Cool air kissed the bared skin of my spine, and gooseflesh raced across my shoulders and down my arms.

He peeled the red fabric off my shoulders like he was unwrapping something fragile and dangerous at the same time. The dress caught briefly at my breasts, and he tugged it harder and impatiently; then it pooled around my waist. My bra was simple black lace, nothing fancy, but the way his gaze locked on my n*****s pressing against the thin cups made me feel naked already.

“Beautiful,” he rasped, the word torn out of him like it hurt to admit. One finger traced the scalloped edge of the cup, then dipped inside to circle my n****e. The touch was light...too light. I arched, chasing for more of his touch. He pinched, rolled, and tugged my n****e until I gasped, the sting blooming into heat that shot straight between my thighs.

He pushed the dress down my hips; it slid to the floor. I stepped out of it, kicking my heels off too. Now only the thong and bra remained. Viktor’s hands went to my waist, his thumbs pressing into the soft dip above my hip bones, holding me still while his eyes devoured every inch.

“Turn around.”

I did, very slowly, presenting my back to him. His breath hitched when he saw the thin black straps crossing my spine, and the way the thong disappeared between my cheeks. His big palm flattened between my shoulder blades and pushed me forward until my breasts and forearms were braced on the desk. Papers crinkled under my elbows; a pen rolled off the edge and clattered to the floor.

He kicked my feet wider apart. The position left me exposed and vulnerable. I felt the heat of him behind me, heard the rustle of his belt buckle, the slow rasp of his zipper. My heart hammered so hard I was sure he could see it pulsing under my skin.

His hand slid up the back of my thigh, his rough calluses dragging over my smooth skin, then cupped my ass, squeezing hard enough to leave fingerprints. “You really waited,” he said, his voice low and reverent and furious all at once. “Three f*****g years.”

“Yes.”

“For me.”

“Yes.”