Page 104 of Demanding Mob Boss

"You have with your body."

"That's not how sex works." My aunt drilled into me from a young age that a boy having sex with me didn't mean he was committed to me.

She didn't want me to get pregnant and have no way to support a child, the refrain was a common one between her and I. Almost as common as the "Why can't you at least pretend to be normal?" one.

"It does between us. The day you offered your body to me to calm my rage, you sealed your fate."

"That should worry me."

"Does it?"

"No."

"Good. Finish your dinner. I have plans for after."

We're going to have intercourse. My body buzzes with anticipation. I want that. So much. I want to feel more than his fingers inside me, I want to experience the sensation of his semen inside me, not just on my breasts.

Though that is something I never want to give up.

"I'm not on birth control," I tell him.

"Okay."

Then I admit, "I don't want to use condoms."

"Neither do I," he growls and puts down his half-eaten soup before grabbing my nearly empty bowl and placing it back on the tray.

"What if I get pregnant?"

"Then we'll have a baby."

Shock courses through me. "I can't be a mom."

"Who says?"

"My aunt."

"She's wrong."

"But what if she's not? I don't know how to interact with children."

"There are plenty of kids in the mob. You can practice being around them. And Ma will help. She raised me and the girls, she's got it down."

"You make it sound so easy."

"If you're afraid to get pregnant, we'll use condoms until you can get on birth control. Or you can take the morning after pill." His eyes burn with desire, but his tone is calm and pragmatic.

I'm not just afraid of being a mom, I'm terrified, but the idea of having a family again fills me with yearning so strong, tears burn the back of my eyes.

How did we go from planning sex to considering starting a family?

"I don't know what I want," I admit.

He nods. "Until you do, we'll use condoms."

He doesn't want to. He said so. But he will. Because even if he's not afraid to become a dad, I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to be a mom. No matter how much I want it. And I'm his to take care of. So, condoms.

"Will you come on my breasts after? Like you did last night?" Heat climbs into my face.

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