Page 53 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

“Of course.” She laughs then sighs hard as the frown washes back over her face. “His loyalty counts; my safety doesn’t. Nothing about me counts except what I’m carrying, and the day it’s out of me you’ll hand him to a nanny and put me out the gate.”

“That isn’t⁠—”

“Don’t.” She holds up a hand, glaring at me. “Don’t sit there and pretend you care. You came in here to be sure your investment’s eating right, not because you care about me.”

I’m so angry with her. That’s not why I came here at all. She’s getting me so frustrated I might just do something stupid.

“Go back to your room and leave me alone. I’m tired, Bastian. I’m so tired of you and your rules.”

She makes me so infuriated I almost can’t control myself—almost. I’m one hundred percent in control when I lean forward, gripping her face with both of my hands firmly and kiss her hard.

She’s been hot and cold for so long I’m not sure what’s going on, it’s driving me nuts. I kiss her so hard she’s gasping for breath when I pull back.

“Stop it,” she snips, but I kiss her again, and her hands come up to cover mine where they grip her cheeks. She doesn’t push me away. In fact, she starts leaning into it, kissing me harder until I feel her begin to rise up and shift positions.

Her mouth opens under mine, and I taste the salt of her tears mixed with the heat of her response. I keep my hands on her face, holding her steady while I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers hungrily. She whimpers into my mouth, and that’s all it takes for the last of my control to slip. I pull back just enough to look at her and it only ignites my desire for her further.

“Raina,” I growl as I slide one hand down to her neck, then lower, over the thin strap of her nightgown. The fabric is soft where I trace the curve of her shoulder, her belly full and round between us, and I move carefully, aware of every shift. She watches me, breathing rapidly, but she doesn’t tell me to stop.

I lean in and kiss her again, slower this time, guiding her back against the pillows.

My other hand moves to her hip, bunching the nightgown up her thighs.

The material rides higher as she parts her legs a little, making room for me. I break the kiss to pull the gown up farther, exposing her completely. She’s bare underneath, and the sight of her like this, pregnant with my child and still wanting me, tightens everything in me.

“My god, woman, you’ll be the death of me,” I growl, which draws a soft moan from her lips. Her hands rest on my shoulders as I move down the bed, settling between her thighs.

She’s already wet, and I run my hands along the insides of her legs, spreading them wider but keeping my touch firm. Her belly rises and falls with each breath as she watches me lower my head and press my mouth to her mound, my tongue sliding through her folds in one long stroke.

“Shit,” she gasps, her hands fisting in my hair, which only encourages me. I do it again, licking her slowly with more pressure, focusing on the spot that makes her hips twitch. It’s erotic knowing what I do to her, knowing that swollen belly is the product of what we’ve done. It makes my dick so hard it’s painful to think about it.

I hold her thighs open with my hands, my fingers pressing into her skin just enough to keep her in place as I study her dark pink folds, swollen with arousal.

Her chest is heaving, belly so large it probably makes it more difficult for her to breathe but now I need her.

“Fuck, Bastian,” she breathes. I don’t answer with words. I answer with my mouth, sucking gently on her clit before pointing my tongue against it and moving in steady circles. She’s sensitive, her body reacting to every stroke, and I keep the rhythm consistent, building it as her breathing gets louder.

I slide one hand up to rest on her belly, feeling the firmness there, a reminder of how close she is to delivering our son. It doesn’t stop me.

If anything, it makes me more focused on her, on giving her pleasure. I push my tongue inside her, then pull back to lick upward again, over and over.

Her hips start to rock against my face, chasing the sensation, and I let her, adjusting my grip to support her.

“Mmmm,” I growl and she whimpers and pulls my hair as I devour her, my lips and tongue working together until her thighs begin to tremble around my head. I suck her clit into my mouth again, applying steady pressure while my tongue flicks against it. Her hand comes down to my hair, gripping tightly, and I don’t stop. I keep going, matching the way her body demands more.

“Like that,” she breathes raggedly. “Don’t stop.”

I don’t. I lick and suck, faster now, giving her exactly what she needs. Her nightgown shifts with every movement, the straps slipping off her shoulders, but I stay focused between her legs. Her moans fill the room, and I can feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around my fingers as I slide them in and thrust.

She arches as much as her belly allows, hands still pulling at my hair and I hold her there, until her whole body seizes up.

She comes hard, her thighs clamping around my head as waves roll through her.

Her body jerks and jolts, and she knocks her head on the headboard, but she groans for more, gasping and panting as she claws at my head, neck, and shoulders.

I keep licking her through it, drawing it out, and I taste every bit of her release.

When she starts to come down, I slow my movements but don’t pull away right away. I press one last kiss to her before lifting my head, looking up at her flushed face. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her nightgown twisted around her, and her eyes meet mine with a mix of exhaustion and lust.