Page 89 of Emerald Malice

Her face contorts into rage. “You have no right to?—”

Before she can finish her sentence, I’ve grabbed her around the waist and walked her backwards into Byron’s rickety desk.

“‘Right’?” I snarl so vehemently that she falls silent. “You want to talk to me about rights? What makes you think you have the right to stand here flirting with sniveling mudaks when you’re carrying my child?”

“I wasn’t… That wasn’t…” Those perfect green eyes of hers are star-bright, sparking with a mixture of confusion and anger.

And maybe something else.

The first flickers of a wildfire.

“I thought I made myself clear, lastochka.” I hoist her onto the table and knock her legs apart with my knee. “You’re mine.” She opens her mouth to argue, but I cut her off at the pass. “And if you need any more proof of that—” My hand slips up her sexy pencil skirt and grazes along her inner thigh. “—I’m only too happy to provide it.”

“No, Andrey,” she protests, squirming against me in a way that doesn’t do a damn bit of good to convince me she means what she’s saying. “Stop…”

She tugs on my arms again and again, but each is weaker than the last.

I push aside her panties and slip my fingers into her warm slit. To nobody’s surprise, she’s dripping wet.

Her eyes pop open. For a moment, she’s lost in the feeling. Then her gaze flickers to the glass walls behind us.

“No, we can’t! Byron will… Fuck, he’ll see.”

“Good.” I growl. “He needs to understand how pointless it is to pursue you.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but I never discover what, because her words are lost to a moan.

I lean in and catch that moan with my lips, sliding my fingers deeper inside her while my thumb strokes her clit. The closer she gets to orgasm, the more desperate and panicky she becomes. “Andrey… please… please…”

But I’m about as capable of stopping as I am of inducting Byron into the Bratva. Natalia shudders, biting her bottom lip so hard that she draws a thin line of blood.

I lick it away.

Then I unbuckle my pants.

“No!” she gasps, trying to push me away. “No, Andrey… not here… not on Byron’s desk.”

My fingers curl around her throat as I lick the side of her neck. Her breaths are coming hot and fast. “Don’t worry, lastochka,” I assure her. “He’s not watching.”

It’s a lie, of course. I can see him, peering around the corner every few seconds to try to see what we’re doing.

Let him watch.

No one can say Andrey Kuznetsov isn’t generous.

Pulling my cock free, I shove her skirt higher around her thighs. Natalia doesn’t try to stop me. I thrust myself inside her and?—

Fuck.

My mind goes blank.

It’s like all the noise, all the worries and doubts that have been rolling around in my head since I became the fucking pakhan… It all fades away.

Nothing and no one exists.

Except for her.

Except for me.

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