Page 107 of Marked By the Mob

He doesn’t make me wait. His hands work the button of my jeans, pulling them down my legs along with my underwear. The cool air against my heated skin makes me shiver, but then his fingers are there, sliding through my wetness, and I forget everything except the sensation.

“So fucking perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb circling my clit while two fingers push inside me. “Always so ready for me.”

I can’t form words, can only moan as he works me with steady, deliberate strokes. The pleasure builds fast, coiling tight in my belly. When his mouth closes over my nipple through my sweater, I nearly come apart right there.

“Not yet,” he says against my breast. “I want to be inside you when you come.”

He pulls his fingers free and I whimper at the loss. But then he’s freeing his cock, thick and hard, and positioning himself between my thighs. The head presses against my entrance, and he pauses just long enough to make me slap his shoulders impatiently. He chuckles and pushes inside in one hard thrust, filling me completely. I cry out at the stretch, at the delicious fullness. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, just starts fucking me with deep strokes that make the desk shake beneath us.

“Yes,” I gasp, my nails digging into his shoulders. “God, yes.”

His hand slides between us, finding my clit and rubbing tight circles that push me closer to the edge. The dual sensation is overwhelming, pleasure building so fast I can barely breathe.

“Come for me,” Rurik commands, his pale eyes locked on mine.

His words push me over. My orgasm crashes through me in waves, my body clenching around him as I cry out his name. He follows moments later, his release hot inside me as he buries himself deep.

We stay like that for a long moment, both of us breathing hard, tangled together on the desk. Then Rurik pulls out carefully andhelps me down, his hands gentle despite the roughness of what we just did.

I dress quickly, my legs still shaky. Rurik watches me with those intense pale eyes, and I know he’s reading every emotion I’m trying to hide.

“There’s something you’re not telling me,” he says quietly.

My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”

“You’re scared. More than usual.” He steps closer, his hand finding my face. “What is it?”

I want to tell him. Just blurt out that I’m pregnant and terrified and have no idea what to do. But the words stick in my throat.

“I’m just worried about confronting Langford,” I lie. “That’s all.”

Rurik doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. “We’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

I nod and force a smile. “I know.”

Later that evening, I sit alone in the bedroom we share, holding a cell phone. The number I need to call is already pulled up on the screen. All I have to do is press the button.

My finger hovers over Langford’s name, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. This is it. Once I make this call, there’s no going back. The trap will be set and everything will move forward whether I’m ready or not.

I take a breath and press the button.

The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Then Langford’s familiar voice fills my ear, warm and concerned, exactly the way I remember.

“Hello, Langford.”

“Emma? Is that really you?”

45

EDUARD

The satisfying crack of pool balls breaking echoes through the game room as I lean over the table, lining up my next shot. The weight of the past week sits heavy on my shoulders, but for the first time in days, I feel like I can actually breathe.

We did it. We actually fucking did it.

Volkov’s empire is crumbling, and the bastard is on the run with only a handful of loyal men left. The coordinated assault we launched across all three families worked better than I dared hope. Every piece fell into place with brutal efficiency.

I engineered the financial collapse myself, spending sleepless nights tracing Volkov’s shipping routes through shell companies and offshore accounts. Once I found the weak points, I struck hard and fast. Frozen assets, canceled contracts, and strategic leaks to his competitors that made his business partners scatter like rats from a sinking ship. The man lost millions in a matter of days.