Page 118 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

The baby was almost a year old now.

Nadia and Alex were both thrilled to have a little brother.

After Evan was born, I'd been breastfeeding him for nearly a year. Finally, weaning time was close.

The little guy lay in my arms, latched onto my nipple, nursing contentedly. His tiny fist clutched my other breast, the wet suckling sounds loud in the quiet bedroom.

Ivan stood in the doorway watching, finger pressed to his lips, silencing the housekeeper. Only after Evan finished, yawning in satisfaction, did he stride over and lift our son from my arms, passing him to the housekeeper at the door.

Then he locked it.

"Little man's had his fill. My turn now."

He pounced, pinning me back against the bed.

His large hand yanked up my loose nursing shirt, mouth closing over the nipple still wet with Evan's saliva.

I shuddered, that familiar ache spreading through me—ticklish and burning. I shoved at his head. "Ivan Volkov! Have you no shame? That's for your son, not you!"

He ignored me, sucking harder, tongue circling the tip.

His other hand found my other breast, kneading until both nipples tightened and hardened, heat pooling low in my belly, that familiar ache building.

He sucked, then bit down lightly.

Looked up at me, those gray-blue eyes bottomless, drowning in lust. "My kitten, even here you taste sweet. I regret not being there when you were pregnant with Alex. I missed so much."

My face burned. I cursed him for his shamelessness.

What kind of talk was this?

But my body melted like water. A year without him—I'd missed his touch desperately.

His palm slid lower, finding the apex of my thighs, fingertips stroking my clit through the thin fabric of my underwear.

I tensed immediately, gasping.

He bit my nipple again, voice dropping to a rough command. "Spread your legs, kitten. Do it yourself."

I bit my lip, trembling under his touch, and slowly obeyed.

He reached for something he'd prepared earlier—a restraint—dangling it before my eyes with a raised brow. "New one today. You'll love the color."

Wine-red silk ribbon that made my skin look even more glowing.

He took my hands, positioned them behind my back, and began binding them slowly, expertly. The pressure was perfect—not painful, but inescapable.

"Master..."

The word slipped out, muffled around the nipple still in his mouth.

Satisfaction flickered across his face. He licked along my collarbone, breath hot against my ear. "Good girl. Master's going to reward you properly."

He released me, knelt between my spread thighs, and kissed his way down from my belly. Lower. Until his mouth found that most sensitive place, tongue working magic.

Bound and helpless, I could only arch into him.

Pleasure crashed over me in waves. He knew my body too well—knew exactly how to make me shake.