Page 87 of Ruthless Mafia Daddy

It’s almost one in the afternoon, so I assume he would have finished his meeting by now and headed out for lunch. But as I walk down our little private corridor, I glance into his office and find him sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands.

My chest tightens as I watch him so lost in his own thoughts.

Without thinking, I push open his door and walk over to his desk.

He doesn’t look up as I place my coffee on the desk and move to stand beside his chair.

“Andre,” I whisper, placing my hand on his shoulder.

His entire body tenses under my touch, but he makes no move to push me away.

“Look at me.”

His heavy sigh fills the silence, but he turns in his chair, and I step between his legs, my arms wrapping around his neck and holding his head to my body.

His hands find my waist, and he presses a soft kiss to my stomach as I gently run my hands through his silken hair.

A deep ache fills me as I look down at Andre resting against my stomach.

This is how I imagined him to react when I told him about the baby—pulling me into his arms and pressing soft kisses to my abdomen. But he keeps pushing me away the moment we get close, and I don’t want this child to be the catalyst that tears us apart forever.

So, if I have to keep it a secret a little longer purely for my selfish desires, then so be it.

I gently run my fingers along Andre’s broad shoulders, then his arms, before I clasp his wrists and remove his hands from around my waist.

“Lila,” Andre groans, finally lifting his eyes to meet mine.

I sink to my knees at the sight of his pained expression, wanting nothing more than to lift the shadow that is veiling him. I say nothing as I reach for his belt, my blood thrumming in my ears as I pull his cock free.

Andre grips the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he makes no move to stop me as I softly run my fingertips along his length.

I’m already desperate for him, wanting to climb into his lap and sink down onto his cock, but it seems like he needs this more. So, I’ll be patient, no matter how badly I ache between my thighs.

I gently brush my thumb over the tip, and Andre lets out a pained hiss.

Biting the inside of my cheek to hide my smile, I continue stroking him so softly.

From the way he shifts in his seat and how the muscles in his forearms flex, I know he’s getting worked up. But I won’t give in. Not yet.

“So perfect,” I murmur, tightening my grip and stroking him harder.

Andre’s hips buck, and I stroke him again. “I can’t wait to taste you Andre.”

“Fuck, Lila,” Andre groans.

I glance up, and his head has fallen back against his chair, his eyes screwed shut. I marvel at the strong lines of his jaw, his cheekbones, the way his throat bobs as I work his cock harder.

A soft whimper escapes my lips as I lean forward and brush my tongue along the slick head of his cock. My eyes flutter closed at the taste of him, and I lose hold of my restraint.

I wrap my lips around him and take him so deep my eyes sting, but the deep guttural growl that comes from Andre makes me want more.

I want him to lose all control, and to release all the pent up tension in his body.

I take the base of his cock in my hand, squeezing hard as I suck.

Andre’s fingers find my hair, and I moan as he fists the strands, the sharp pain making me gasp around his cock.

I let him lead, pushing my head down so I can take more of him.

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