Page 6 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

“Ms. Volina, welcome to my home.” He sips his drink and motions for me to come closer. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

I swallow hard, pushing away the knot that’s forming in my throat as I unbutton my coat and slip it down my shoulders. “You have a nice home,” I mumble awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“You have a nice body,” he croons in a predatory tone. It makes goosebumps rise across my flesh and my stomach flips. I watch him set the glass down and stalk over to me, undoing the buttons on his suit jacket.

He takes my coat from me and drapes it over the large leather sofa to my left then tips my chin up, like he’s assessing my face for flaws. “Take your clothes off.”

My eyes widen and I feel heat rush to my face in shock. “What?”

“You’re here to become the mother of my child, right?” he asks, looking down his perfectly straight nose at me. His breath smells like vodka, and a cloud of his musky cologne wraps around me. It’s heavenly and arousing.

“Well, yes, but I thought⁠—”

“Then take off your clothes. I told you yesterday, there’s no time like the present.” Bastian’s eyes drift downward toward my chest, and they’re filled with hunger and desire. “I’d like to get started as soon as possible and do it as often as needed.

The ache spreading through my groin is unmistakable. This man wants me desperately. Every muscle in his body is taut with that desire.

“Yes, okay,” I mutter, not entirely on board with how quickly this is going, but I did sign up for it.

I peel my shirt over my head and drop it onto the sofa beside my coat, and his eyes track every single movement.

My fingers hesitate for a moment on the button of my jeans before I open it and push the denim down my legs along with my underwear. I step out of the pile of fabric and kick it aside.

My bra comes off last, the hooks releasing under my fingers until the straps slide down my arms.

I stand there completely naked in front of him while he remains fully dressed in his suit, jacket open, his eyes tracing every line of my body with clear hunger.

Bastian reaches out and runs his palm down my side from my ribs to my hip. “Good girl,” he growls. “Turn around for me.” I turn slowly, letting him examine every inch of my body. His hand follows the curve of my ass before he pulls me back against him, keeping one arm wrapped around my waist while his other hand slides up to cup my breast. “These are perfect.”

I swallow again, but my throat is loosening up now. The way he touches me is reverent, not demanding.

Like he is worshipping my body, not commanding me to perform. When he turns me back to face him, I’m not sure what to think.

He leans in and kisses me, his mouth claiming mine in a deep, demanding kiss that steals my breath.

His tongue slides against mine as his hand continues to knead my breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. I kiss him back, resting my hands on his chest, feeling the heat of his body under his shirt.

When he pulls back slightly, his eyes are dark with lust. “You have no idea how much I am going to enjoy this body,” he murmurs against my lips.

His mouth moves to my neck, kissing and nipping along the skin there while his hands explore.

One hand stays on my breast, squeezing and teasing, while the other slides down my side to grip my hip. “So soft here,” he says, his voice low. “And these hips—they’ll look even better when your stomach is swollen.” I shiver and lean into it.

The way he’s talking to me almost makes me forget the reality of the money still sitting in the back of my mind, and his hands are making it harder to focus on anything except how good this feels.

I’m not sure what I expected when I thought about sleeping with him to get pregnant.

I’m not a virgin, but I’m not extremely experienced either.

A man his age has probably had enough sex to know exactly how to make my body sing. God, it’s exhilarating.

“Tell me what you like.” Bastian pulls back enough to look at me. His fingers pinch my nipple again, sending a spark through me. “I want to hear it from your mouth while I touch you.”

I almost whimper as the pain in my nipple brings pleasure to my body. “I like when you do that. It feels good.” He smiles at my words and lowers his head, taking the nipple into his mouth. He sucks slowly, swirling his tongue around it while his hand massages the other one. My fingers thread into his hair as heat pools low in my belly.

“Tits,” he mumbles, “use the word tits. Not breasts. It’s hotter.”

“Mmm,” I moan in agreement. Just the use of the word makes my core clench.