The Russian's Pregnant Mistress (12 page)

Damn she was beautiful.

He was trying very hard to respect her wishes about the no sex, but when she looked like that, with her soft, fuzzy sweater gaping open as she leaned into the counter, those full breasts exposed to his hungry eyes and her soft, curly hair shining from the pendulum lights…she wasn’t making this easy for him.

“How do you feel about animals?” she asked, looking up at him but still bent over the counter.

Damon quickly moved his eyes up to her face, wondering if she knew that he’d been looking down her sweater like some sort of voyeur.

“Eating them?” he asked with increased confusion, his eyes glancing down at the mutilated chicken he hoped they weren’t having for dinner. He thought it was very sweet that she liked to cook. And she really was an exceptionally good one. But he had doubts that even she could rectify what had happened to the demolished chicken parts.

Gabby couldn’t help but laugh. He did that for her a lot, made her laugh. He had a dry sense of humor that just struck her funny bone. She didn’t think he even meant to say something funny but she was the kind of person that found lots of humor in everything. “No. As in pets.”

The confusion cleared and he looked back at her warily. “Pets are nice. What did you have in mind?”

She thought about it for a moment, then said, “I like dogs.” She nodded for emphasis.

Damon wasn’t sure where this was going, but he thought about a great dane or German shepherd, something large that could help patrol the house and keep his family safe. Or maybe a fluffy cocker spaniel or golden retriever, a dog their son could play with and throw balls with during the summer months. He and Yuri had never had a pet, never had enough money for a pet and after his mother died, they hadn’t even had a place to live so adopting a pet was completely out of the question. “A dog would be nice,” he finally said.

His reward was a huge smile from Gabby and the lust in his body increased. He’d made her happy and he wanted her more? Was there nothing this woman could do that wouldn’t increase his desire for her sexually? Was this normal? Hell, he didn’t care if it was normal or insane, he liked it.

Of course, he’d like it even more if he could do something about it.

Gabby picked up the wooden board she had been using to protect the counter tops while she pounded out the chicken, scraping everything into a plastic bag and sealing it before putting it into the garbage can. “I also like cats.”

Damon didn’t know anything about cats except that they had long, sharp claws. A dog would be better, he thought, but said to her, “Cats are probably nice.” He didn’t want to commit to anything like a cat. From what he’d heard, cats were evil, independent and obnoxious.

“Yeah, you don’t have to walk a cat,” she explained as she put everything into the dishwasher. “Since chicken is out of the question, what are you in the mood to eat for dinner?” she asked and bent down into the lower level freezer to grab a popsicle, another craving she’d discovered.

Damon watched her cute bottom as she bent to get something and his body hardened even more. What would she do if he said he wanted her for dinner? He could easily starve for the night if he could just get her naked and into bed. It had been months since he’d had sex. It was the longest he’d ever been without female companionship since he’d discovered the amazing joys of sex when he was eighteen but not just any woman would work. It had to be this one with all of her quirks and confusing conversations and that body that he wanted so badly he actually ached to bury himself deep inside her.

Gabby spun around, popsicle already unwrapped and in her mouth. She looked across the kitchen at him. Taking the popsicle out of her mouth, she watched him warily. “I know, it’s getting bigger.” She sat down on one of the bar stools, staring at the popsicle dejectedly. “Everything is getting bigger and it’s embarrassing.”

Damon had lost track of the conversation with the view of that delectable derriere. “Are we still talking about pets?” he asked.

Gabby laughed as she bowed her head. “No. We’re talking about my butt.”

Damon could get into this conversation. He sat down on the stool next to hers and took her popsicle, taking a huge bite for himself and ignoring her gasp of horror. “I like your butt. Don’t judge it until you can see it from my perspective.” He took a sip of his scotch, impressed that popsicle and one hundred year old scotch was actually pretty good. Who knew?

“Hey! You ate half my popsicle.”

He shrugged and took another sip of scotch, turning to face her. “You ruined whatever you were making for dinner. I was just taking what was offered.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t offering my popsicle.”

“I didn’t ask,” he came right back.

She laughed again. “You’re pretty good at just taking what you want, aren’t you?”

The heat in his eyes startled her. “Not everything,” he said.

Gabby knew exactly what he was saying and she froze, the popsicle halfway to her mouth.

Damon watched, waiting for her to say something but when he just saw the same heat in her eyes, he couldn’t hold out any longer. He bent down and kissed her soft lips, waiting for the rejection because of her stance on sex.

When she didn’t push him away, he stood up, pulling her against him and deepening the kiss. He was ravenous now and apparently, so was she. She pulled herself against him, her hands reaching up to dive into his hair, gripping his neck and pulling him down so she could kiss him more, the popsicle forgotten as it fell to the counter.

He didn’t hesitate. Feeling her response, he grabbed her underneath her legs and carried her into the family room, not wanting to wait until they reached her bedroom. He laid her down on the sofa and quickly came down on top of her, careful to not put too much weight on her stomach. But he wasn’t taking any chances on her changing her mind. With swift hands, he pulled her shirt off, dispensing with her bra and taking one of those luscious mounds into his mouth.

Gabby screamed out and arched her back, her hands taking his head and moving his mouth to her other breast. She couldn’t stand the intensity, but didn’t want it to stop.

Damon ripped his shirt open, taking her hands and placing them on his chest. He groaned as her fingers moved along his skin, shifting everywhere and he wanted to rip off her clothes and find her heat. He stood up, hearing her whimper and rushed to toss off his clothes. When he was finally free of the obnoxious material, he reached for her waist, unbuttoning the skirt, then sliding it off along with her underwear and tossing it somewhere, just not anywhere near. As he looked down at her, his mind registered that she was even more beautiful now than she had been the first time they’d had sex.

“Don’t stop,” she pleaded, her hips shifting restlessly, eager for him to come back to her.

“Don’t worry,” he growled and moved over her, his arms flexing in an effort to hold himself above her, afraid he’d hurt her. “Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, suddenly worried about hurting the baby.

Gabby grinned, warmed by his concern. “Not only is it okay, but we don’t really need to use protection any longer,” she told him.

What she was telling him finally sunk in and he smiled back at her. “I’ll be careful,” he promised and moved his length back to hers, gritting his teeth at how incredibly good she felt against him once again. “I’m sorry, Gabriella. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t wait,” she gasped, her legs already moving to wrap around his waist, her hips arching up to his and she begged him to move inside of her. “Hurry!” she urged.

They were frantic, both of them moving their hands over each other, trying to feel all the skin they’d missed for the past several months. When he moved into position, Gabby couldn’t wait any longer. She pushed herself higher, feeling his erection against her heat and she wanted more of him. Her hands were on his shoulders, pushing him as if she could make him move the way she wanted him to move.

When he finally pushed himself deeper, Gabby gasped and he froze. “Are you okay?” he demanded suddenly.

“Yes!” she cried out. “But you won’t be if you stop!”

Damon heard the words and almost lost it right there. But he somehow managed to control himself and slowed down, pushing himself fully into her and closing his eyes, trying to slow himself down so that he could pleasure her.

But as soon as he started moving, it took only a few strokes and she lit up, exploding around him and Damon took intense pleasure that she was so responsive, that he could do this to her. Over and over again, he took her higher, pushing her over the edge until he could no longer hold back. When his climax came, he held her tight, wanting the moment to last forever as he called out her name.

When they could breathe once again, although still with labored, gasping breaths, Damon somehow managed to roll them over on the sofa so that she was laying on top of him. He reached for his slacks and pulled something out of the pocket. Sliding a ring onto her finger, he said, “Gabby, please, you’ve got to marry me,” then let his head fall backwards as he continued to try and get his breathing back under control. “End of conversation. Just choose a date, woman.”

Gabby lifted her head from his chest where it had been laying and stared down at the beautiful ring with a huge diamond in the center. Marry him? He hadn’t really asked and she didn’t have the energy to hold her head up. Letting it flop back to his chest, she continued to try and gather her senses about her.

Yes, she was in love with this obnoxious, arrogant man who had absolutely no panache when it came to proposing. She didn’t mind that so much as the worry that he just wanted to marry her for the baby. Was that enough? Could they make a marriage work based only on a child, her love and an incredible sex life? The sex would go away, or so she’d been told. The spark would dim and they’d be left with just her love and their child.

Should she hold out for his love? Would he ever love her? There was something in his past that was holding him back. He never spoke about his childhood, Yuri rarely ever came around but she knew that Damon took care of him as well by paying his rent and giving him spending money. Damon was a good, kind man who had a great deal of power, but from what she’d learned of him, he didn’t abuse it. In fact, several people’s jobs had been saved through his ability to work a company back to health. He was some sort of financial genius that just happened to be held in a body that was amazing.

“Did your parents have a lot of problems with their marriage?” she asked softly, layering her hands and putting her chin on top so she could look down at him.

“My parents aren’t the issue,” he said, not letting her get into that painful chapter of his life. “You and this baby are what’s important and I want to know that you’re taken care of. I can protect you. We should get married.”

“That’s not really a reason,” she argued back, but not with any heat.

Damon wanted to disagree with her, but she still had his ring on so he was counting this one as a triumphant victory. “We’re getting married, Gabriella,” he replied firmly, as if that ever ended the argument with her. He knew she’d start in again about something but he was aware of one way to stop her. His hand moved from her waist to that adorable bottom he’d been watching and admiring earlier. “Did you want to discuss this further right now?” he asked.

She wiggled against him, those feelings soaring right back but she scrambled up and grabbed his shirt. “Why didn’t you have any pets when you were a child?” she asked. She was determined to find out what he was hiding. It had hurt him and she wanted to love him completely, dark, horrible secrets and all. She contemplated giving his ring back to him, but it really was a beautiful ring and it looked perfect on her finger. She admired the sparkle as she moved her hand and wondered how he’d known what size to get.

Damon didn’t want to talk about his childhood. He’d been a filthy street urchin who ate out of garbage cans after his mother’s drug addiction took her life. She’d sold her body to feed her habit, not her kids. After she’d died, the government tried to put him and Yuri into an orphanage. He and his brother found out quickly that living on the street was much safer than a government run orphanage. So telling Gabby about his pathetic childhood was completely out of the question. Better that she know the man he was today. If she found out about his past, she’d run screaming, getting as far away from him as she could.

“No. We weren’t allowed to have pets,” he stated honestly. Pets weren’t really an option in a warehouse with temperatures that dropped well below zero during the night. And food had been too precious to waste on an animal. “How about you?”

Gabby smiled and curled up onto his lap more comfortably. “We always had pets. My mom loved cats and my dad loved dogs. So they chased each other around the house. The cats would get up higher on the furniture than the dogs and wait for them to pass by underneath, then they would scratch their noses or heads. The dogs would look up and realize the cats were there and would start barking. Usually a chase would ensue and sometimes something broke.”

That didn’t sound like a great way to live, he thought. It seemed more like a combat zone. “Wasn’t that annoying?” he asked.

Gabby laughed and shook her head. “It was fun. The dogs would sleep on one side of me at the end of my bed, the cats would curl up on my pillow and I’d be pretty warm all night long.”

He bent down and nuzzled her neck with his mouth and his teeth until she squirmed. “If you’d let me back into your bed, I’d curl up around you all night and keep you warm,” he said and bit her ear lobe while his hand started sneaking up underneath his shirt she’d put on.

She squirmed and laughed. “I don’t think I can keep you out after tonight,” she sighed.

“Good. Let’s go upstairs now,” he suggested, his arm already snaking underneath her legs so he could carry her to her big, comfortable bed where he could explore her blossoming body more thoroughly.

She laughed and put her hands on his shoulders to stop him. “You have to feed me first.”

He was fine with that. “What happened with the chicken earlier?” he asked, more curious about the little things she did than he’d ever been about anyone in the past. “And what’s with all those boxes of pasta?”