Page 13 of Baby Bump for the Mafia Boss

“You feel so good,” he grits out, sounding on the edge of sanity. “My good girl.”

And perhaps that’s it. His praise might be what breaks me open. I’ve given Dane my virginity. I didn’t know I was waiting for him, but it’s evident now that there was never anyone for me but Dane.

Holding onto him with all I’m worth, pleasure sweeps over me, flowing out from my clit and where we join. I convulse, unable to hold myself together as ecstasy covers me like deep water.

And through it, I feel him come too. He thrusts in hard, his face creasing, brows low and intense. He’s gorgeous, and in this moment, he’s all mine. He’s inside me, pumping into me, and I’m the cause of that rough moan that tears from his throat. The sensation of him filling me in reams, his cock jumping with each, is intimate. It’s vulnerable for both of us. I’m open to him, and he’s giving me everything of himself.

It’s a bond so strong I know it’s unbreakable. With his eyes on me through the shadows, I’m a queen, and he’s my king. We’re together. This understanding is soul deep, and we’re both rocked by our connection.

Then his head drops to my shoulder, his weight is heavy on me, and I’m squashed in the best way. My orgasm flickers, continuing in sync with Dane’s micro movements. He’s buried right in me.

We don’t move for a long time. I close my eyes.

“Stephie. My good girl,” he murmurs. Then he stiffens. “I’m squashing you.”

“It’s ok—” In a second, he’s flipped us over again and I’m on top of him, but a bit unstable.

I giggle, and happiness courses through me. Dane’s cock slides out and I bite my lip to stop the protest at the loss.

“Mmm.” Dane sounds as content as I feel as he rearranges me on him, though it’s odd. We’re beneath the blankets, and cold bites at my toes where I slid off my shoes. Both of us are undressed only at the waist and below. Dane’s trousers are rough on my calves.

We’re not naked. I always thought sex would be naked.

Wetness dribbles down my inner thigh, and it takes me a few seconds to realise what it is, unfamiliar as this whole situation is. I attempt to stop it by clenching between my legs. But my movements are groggy from my orgasm that’s still making everything feel fine. Even when I reach down to try to hold it in, it’s useless.

“What is it?” asks Dane sleepily.

I’m pushing his come back into my pussy when his hand covers mine, slippery with our combined juices. He doesn’t help, seeming to relish it, our fingers playing together as though in slow-motion.

“I’m making a mess,” I mutter, embarrassed.

“Don’t care,” he murmurs, barely coherent, his hand slipping up to cup my naked bottom. He’s slurring. Maybe that’s normal after sex, because I feel exhausted too. Sleep is threatening to drag me under.

I have a brief moment of concern that we haven’t used protection. But it’s all spilling out of me. Yes, there’s an outrageous amount, but if it’s not in me, I can’t get pregnant.

A pang goes through me. More’s the pity.

Dane’s breathing evens out, though his arms remain around me. Holding me tight even as he falls asleep.

For a moment, I have this fear that I shouldn’t let this go.

And then I’m sliding into sleep. On top of the man who I gave my virginity. The man I love. My boss. The kingpin of Beckton.

6

DANE

I wake to the bite of cold, and the knowledge that something’s wrong. I feel different. Not necessarily bad, but far from normal.

Opening my eyes a crack. Stone walls, a fire that’s more embers and ash than flame, some rough wooden furniture. The cottage. The helicopter crash. Being drugged.

Stephie. My heart gets an electric shock as I realise she’s nowhere to be seen.

“Stephie!” It comes out as half-shout, half-croak.

“I’m here!” My little assistant pushes open the door to the cabin and shakes snow from her feet. She’s in bloody high heels. This is insanity. It’s not the place for her. In her arms she carries a couple of small logs.

“We used up the rest last night,” she explains brightly.