Page 105 of The Don’s Omega

His eyes flicker. “Marcello,” he whispers.

My heart stutters because his face is still impossible to read. “You don’t look like you feel the same. Do you not feel any real connection to me?”

“I… I didn’t say that.” He studies me intently. “Are you being serious right now, Marcello?”

“Dead serious. I… I love you, Elio.”

“You love me,” he murmurs, appearing almost startled. “How can that be? You could have anyone.”

“I want you.” I reach over and touch his cheek. “Surely you know that? You must know that?”

He wrinkles his brow, avoiding my gaze. “Marcello, please don’t toy with me. I’ll give you your heir. You don’t have to say things like that to me. I’ll do what you hired me to do. There’s no need to play with my emotions.”

I scowl. “I’m not playing with you. Do you really think I’d do that?”

He meets my gaze and pain glitters there. “It might kill me if you do.”

“No. I swear, I’m not toying with you.” I think I surprise us both when I get on my knees in front of him.

He blinks at me, cheeks pink. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I admit. “I only know that I love you, Elio. I want you as my omega, even if you never give me an heir. I need you to know I’m serious.”

His lips part and he touches my face. “Jesus, Marcello, get up. You shouldn’t be on your knees for me.”

“Why not? I’ll happily beg you to love me, if that’s what you want. If you don’t love me back, I’ll die, Elio.”

“God, don’t say that.” He slides down onto the floor with me and he leans in and kisses me.

His mouth is warm and searching, and I groan and slip my arms around him. I pray this kiss means he feels the same as me.

Please don’t let it be a pity kiss.

He pulls back, cupping my face. “Is this real?”

“Yes,” I say without hesitation.

He lets out a harsh breath. “I… I love you too, Marcello. I never dreamed you’d love me.”

“I do,” I rasp. “We can tear up the contract. I don’t need a contract with you. You’re mine, Elio. No one else better even think about touching you.”

He grimaces. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Promise?” I push the hair off his smooth brow, staring into his beautiful green eyes.

“I promise.” He slips his arms around me, holding me tight. “This can’t be real.”

“It is,” I rumble, holding him tight.

He stiffens suddenly, looking past me. “Oh, my God.”

I stiffen too, and turn my head to look. “What’s wrong?”

He pushes up out of my arms and he stumbles toward the counter. “Oh, my God, there are two pink lines.”

I stand and move toward him. “There are?”

“Yes. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with your baby, Marcello.”