Page 57 of Filthy Business
“I’m going to let this slide since it’s your first offence,” he said, tapping my nose.
I rolled my eyes.“How magnanimous of you,” I drawled.
“Yes, I agree.”
“So you don’t want the desserts I bought especially for us?” I pouted.
His eyes narrowed on me, and he pulled back—but didn’t move far. His hand vanished into his pocket and emerged with a black and gold card. He slapped it on the counter.
“Use this until yours comes. You do not use your allowance on me, sweetheart. Go mad. Get baby things or whatever you need. I only need you.”
He wasn’t used to receiving, and it made him uncomfortable.
“Thank you, Daddy. I don’t deserve your generosity, but I do appreciate it,” I murmured.
He wasn’t the enemy I’d once thought him to be. And over the years, I’d seen how he kept himself buried in work—too buried.
“What’s going on with you today? Why don’t you deserve my generosity? It’s my bloody job to spoil you. I’m not getting fucking sacked.”
I giggled and rested my head on his chest. His arms enveloped me in his warmth.
“I missed our lunchtime blowjob,” I said against his shirt.
“Ah, that’s understandable,” he said, patting my back in consolation.“I do have a fine cock.”
While I got the chocolate and berry desserts, he stayed in the kitchen with me, helping to dish out the food. I spent the night watching him talk, sinking into him while we relaxed on the couch, and clinging to him in the throes of passion in bed—hoping my fire wouldn’t burn us alive.
Chapter 25
Magnus
Moody, emotional, weepy, and fatigued. I put my phone back on the nightstand, realising I needed to step up for Iris. Pregnancy hormones were no fucking joke. Tonight she’d been soft, sweet, and accommodating—not her usual sassy self.
The meal she prepared was delicious. Crowned by dessert and a shot of Macallan, it was perfection. Her thoughtful gesture took me by surprise, but as I lay here watching her sleep, I realised that aside from my parents or grandparents, I’d never received that kind of—thoughtfulness.
It made me want to wrap her in cotton wool and shield her from the world. I never wanted her to lose her sweet, gentle heart. Iris Dalton—soon to be Trentham—wasn’t a hardened cynic like me, and she didn’t realise how much I needed her in my life.
I gathered her in my arms, resting my hand on her lower back, and fell asleep rubbing her spine. The woman not only held my heart, but nourished our babe within her.
???
I watched her carefully the next morning, but she was suited up and ready for work. The drive into the office passed in comfortable silence, her cradled in my lap, her hand drifting between my cheek and my tie. Her quiet sigh as we pulled up didn’t go unnoticed, and I held her a few moments longer, peppering her face with light kisses.
“I’ll get you a footstool for the conference. I can’t have my pregnant future wife kneeling on the floor when you worship my cock at lunchtime,” I murmured.
“Again, your generosity astounds me, Daddy,” she said dryly.
“I know. You’re so lucky,” I said, nipping her earlobe.
Her smile was like sunshine, and this time, it was me who sighed when Nick knocked on the window.
???
When Benedict turned up in my office with a file in hand—bleak and serious—I cancelled all meetings for the rest of the day. He left shortly after, and I made a few calls before messaging Iris that I couldn’t make it to lunch. Nick drove me home, and I started searching through all of her belongings.
I was about to give up when I looked around at the mess I’d made. Her life was scattered around me. Clothes. Books. Little traces of her everywhere. Then my eyes landed on the small travel suitcase, half-zipped and tucked beneath the bed.
I pulled it out and unzipped the side compartment.
