Page 82 of The Pakhan's Secret Baby

I moan and dig my nails into his shoulders as pleasure builds, and I feel like any second I'm going to crest and release again. "That's it," he murmurs. "You're gonna be my wife. Now you know how a wife gets fucked."

I whimper, arching up to meet him as my body responds to every movement. The heat between us grows until I'm whining and on the edge, and he pulls out slowly. "Fuck no... I'm so close," I groan, but he flips me onto my stomach and lifts my hips so I'm on my knees.

Then he slides back inside me from behind, his dick entering so deep I gasp and fist the sheets, biting down on the pillow. His hands hold my hips tight as he starts thrusting again, building speed. "Oh God, yes, just like this," he growls. “God, your ass in the air is a sight."

I push back against him, moaning louder as the pleasure intensifies. "Rashid... it feels so good... harder." When he slaps my skin, I clench around him and he growls.

But he obeys me and starts fucking me harder. One hand reaches around to rub my clit, making me whimper more, until I almost can't breathe. "Come for me," he commands. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

My orgasm crashes over me suddenly. Intense waves roll through my body, walls clenching and pulsing around him. Pleasure floods every nerve as I moan his name over and over. My thighs shake and my breath comes in sharp gasps, but the climax keeps surging in long, shuddering peaks that make my vision blur and my body tremble uncontrollably.

"God yes," he groans, and his thrusts become erratic and urgent. His dick swells and pulses as he comes. Thick, warm spurts fill me with each heavy throb while he buries himself impossibly deep. A deep, strained groan rumbles up out of him as his orgasm takes over, muscles tensing with every pulse. But he keeps moving through it, emptying himself in several powerful jets until the last of his release fades.

When he pulls out and my hips fall to the side, I feel the bed shift. He climbs up next to me and lies down, staring up at the ceiling as he catches his breath. But I'm suddenly acutely aware of some noise coming from the baby monitor. It's Anna, and she's speaking softly with Lex, cooing at him and making baby sounds.

And my heart clenches.

Rashid basically told me I'm going to marry him, but I'm not sure if he's actually discussed this with his mother. It's no secret what she thinks of my father, and I don't have to guess what she thinks of me either. The woman hates us both. The only good part of my world in her eyes is my son—her grandson.

I'm only a problem to her, and I'm not sure what to do if she speaks against me and Rashid being married. But I hope she can see how much he cares for me, and how I'm learning more than ever that I care for him too.

30

RASHID

The hospital hallway's quiet when I step off the elevator. I haven't stopped by to see Oleg yet, but when Emory came home so excited that he had awakened and was feeling much better, I knew I had to. I'm here to make sure he understands the situation and agrees to it. I can't have him going behind my back like I did before. Not when he almost cost me my life.

My guard waits near the nurses' station while I walk toward the room at the end of the hall. I've got round-the-clock security for him, though I'm not sure he needs it. Gusev's men are more worried about avenging his death by coming after me than they are recovering the petty cash a dying old man stole from them. But the guard I placed outside Oleg's door still honors my wishes. He straightens when he sees me coming and steps aside to let me in.

I push the door open and Oleg's sitting up in bed, propped against a stack of pillows with a tray of untouched food on the table beside him. He's lost weight in the face and his skin has a yellowish tint the fluorescent lights make worse, but his eyes areclear and tracking, which is an improvement over the last time I saw him when he was bleeding out on my living room carpet.

He watches me walk in and pull the chair closer to his bed. I can see him trying to decide whether this visit is a courtesy or a threat. I let him wonder for a moment while I unbutton my coat and settle into the chair.

"You look better than the last time I saw you," I tell him, lifting both eyebrows. Emory is right; the man looks very sick. They've given him a terminal prognosis, but I'm not sure if they've told him yet. Life expectancy for someone with advanced cirrhosis is two years, if he quits drinking. But a man that addicted, with a body that frail, I doubt he makes it that long.

"The last time you saw me I had a bullet in my stomach," he says dryly. "So that's not saying much." I saved his life by sending him here, paying his bills for him so he doesn't have to worry, and he still sounds bitter. He's lived a hard life for the most part, and he's used to the way Gusev ran his businesses. I have to give him a bit to adjust to me and the way I run things. He'll come around hopefully.

"Well you're alive, aren't you? A lot of men in your position wouldn't be." I'm not sure he understands just how close he came to dying. He put himself in harm’s way to save his daughter, so in my book we're even. But if he thinks of pulling shit like that again, risking my child and my soon-to-be wife, I'll put the bullet in him myself and I won't miss.

His hand moves to the bandage on his stomach and rests there, fidgeting with it. It bunches his hospital gown and he scowls, yanking it into place. "I want to thank you for what you did in that room. I know you didn't have to come back for us."

I did have to come back, because there was no way in hell I was losing my son and the woman I love. And it's a brave thing making that statement. I almost died in that warehouse fire because of him.

"I came back for Emory and the boy. You happened to be in the room."

"I know that," he says, "but you could've let me bleed out on that floor and nobody would've blamed you for it. You're not as horrible as I thought."

I lean back in the chair and cross one leg over the other, taking my time before I respond. The old man's being genuine. I can see that. But genuine and trustworthy are two different qualities, and I've learned the hard way that Oleg Rostov can possess one without the other.

"I'm going to tell you something and I want you to listen carefully," I say. "Emory and I are getting married this summer. That makes you my father-in-law, which means you'll be under my protection for the rest of your life whether either of us enjoys that arrangement or not."

Oleg's expression shifts. His eyebrows draw together, probing for the catch or condition, the price of this particular mercy. "What does that mean for me, exactly?" I'm not sure if he's upset by my announcement, but he doesn’t comment on it.

"It means you'll have a room in my house when you're well enough to leave this hospital. You'll see your daughter and your grandson every day, and nobody touches you—not Gusev's people, not the men at the port—nobody." I pause and watch the lines on his face lighten before I continue. "It also means that my business will be entirely outside your reach. You won'tknow what I move, where I move it, who I sell to, or what any of its worth. Nor will you have access to my office, my communications, my men, or any part of my operation. You're Emory's father and Aleksandr's grandfather, and that's where your role in my house begins and ends."

"I understand," he says quietly, but there's a quality to it that tells me he understands exactly what I'm saying. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him.

"I'm not finished." I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees. "If you ever sell information about me or my family to anyone, if you even think about making a move behind my back, I promise you that you'll fall asleep one night and not wake up. Emory will believe you died peacefully in your sleep and she'll grieve you and move on. Your grandson will grow up hearing nice things about his grandfather because I'll make sure of it. But you will be gone, Oleg, and nobody will ever suspect that I had anything to do with it. Do you believe me when I tell you that?"