Page 6 of Nurse for the Russian Mafia

He sighs, his chest quaking as if with the movement of tectonic plates. I have never been in the presence of a man like him.

“Nothing,” he glowers. “It can wait … but not for long.”

Dad laughs, shaking his head. “Alex, my old buddy,” he says. “You haven’t changed. You always were a cryptic bastard.”

We all laugh, then, and I don’t have to force it. Liquid relief flows through me like a balm, soothing my nerves and relaxing my muscles.

Later, once Alexander is set up in the guest room, I hurry around the house, cleaning, mostly to try and distract myself. Even long after Dad has gone to bed, I’m in the kitchen, polishing our good glasses just in case we have any fancy dinners. Mom used to do this. Thinking of her lays a heavy weight of grief on my chest.

Dad has been through so much.

Alexander’s words replay in my mind. He wants me to be the mother of his children. He wants to make me his …

Silly girl.

The thought that this could all be some cruel trick pops into my head. I’ve been tricked before. I let my guard down and people were not shy about taking advantage of it. Well, one particular person was not shy, although calling him a person is misleading. He’s more like a worm.

I want to believe Alexander so badly. The lips of my sex are so sensitive right now, even my PJ bottoms grazing against them make me wet, flooding my center with warmth every time I remember the way he stared at me.

In my mind, I’m confident when it comes to the bedroom. I imagine bending over and not caring about my plus-size voluptuousness. He’ll fist my hair and I’ll sit my hips back on him and then he’ll burst into me, taking me for the first time, and…

And what? He could be grossed out by the mess the first time would make. He could be misleading me. This could all be some twisted ploy.

In any case, I have no choice but to see him now. I’m bringing him a supper of chicken drumsticks and a large hunk of buttered bread. His room is in the basement, at the rear of the house. That’s a good thing. It’s as far from Dad’s bedroom as it’s possible to get. I know Dad isn’t comfortable having the billionaire leader of the Russian Bratva under his roof, but I also know he’ll be way, way less happy if anything happens between us.

I push the door open with my hips and then carry the tray into the room.

I stop, staring, just about saving the tray from falling as I take in the scene before me.

Alexander is lying back on the bed like a king reclining on plundered furs. Completely naked except for the crimson-white bandage, his muscles pulsate with each movement of his hand, which strokes up and down his throbbing length. A vein winds from the base almost right to the tip, livid and well-defined. His manhood is so large, he has to move his hand a lot to cover all of it. And a spot of glistening precome lingers at the head for a moment. Then, as he opens his eyes and smirks wolfishly at me, it slides down and makes all of him wet and shiny.

“Samantha,” he growls, not even a hint of shame or embarrassment in his voice. “I was hoping you’d join me.”

Chapter Five

Alexander

I’ve never felt such all-encompassing desire before.

When I came down to my makeshift bedroom, I didn’t plan on letting my mind stampede into these fields of fantasy, but my blood is running hot tonight, far hotter than it ever has in all my forty-two years. I just had to close my eyes and picture her in her nurse’s scrubs.

I imagined striding into the waiting room, only this time, it’s empty. I don’t want anyone else’s eyes feasting on the bounty of Samantha’s beautiful naked body.

Stripping away her bra, her breasts spill freely, all for me. They are large and round and perfect, so fucking perfect my cock slides between them as though they were made for each other.

She pouts her ample lips, her azure eyes goading me, encouraging me.

“I’ll fuck that perfect pussy soon,” I imagined telling her, stroking my rock hard manhood quicker and quicker.

I’m always in control. But, with Samantha, I’ve finally met the woman who can turn me feral. She’s one of a kind.

“I’ll fuck you hard, Samantha,” I tell her in my fantasy. “Until you come on my cock, and then I’ll come inside of you. I’ll pump you full of my seed and trap it there with my cock, driving deep, so that it takes hold and our baby begins to grow in your belly.”

Now, I watch her as she puts the tray on the counter. Her hands are shaking and there is this gorgeous look of uncertainty on her face. She’s wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt that clings to her breasts, and…no bra.

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