Mafia King's Contract Breeder

Lara POV

"I went to kill someone," said Emmanuel, by way of explanation. "The man who sent the assassins earlier tonight. They will not be a problem anymore."

A sharp, startled breath tore out of me at that admission.

He made it sound so normal. So easy. As though the greatest problems in the world could be solved at a snap of his fingers.

While my mind was swirling with that statement, Emmanuel spun me around, back to his chest, facing away from him. His arms wrapped around my waist, one hand settling possessively over my abdomen, the other finding my bare thigh under my night dress.

His chest pressed against my back in a searing line of heat. The hard bulge hot and insistent against my rear told me everything I needed to know about what Emmanuel wanted right now.

"Does the smell still bother you like this?" he asked, the polite tone entirely at odds with the proprietary way he touched me, igniting my nerve-endings in an entirely different way from the adrenaline rush of a fight.

I could still catch the metallic tang of blood and death that clung to his skin and clothes. But with his body wrapped around mine like this, solid and inescapable, the scent no longer made my stomach turn. It sank lower instead, coiling tight and electric between my legs.

My panties were dragged down to my knees.

The first touch on my clit made me gasp out loud.

There was an urgent, almost desperate edge to him tonight—or was it morning now? Urgent, but not rough. Every touch stayed measured, careful, as if he were handling something newly fragile and infinitely precious.

He lay me on my side, entering me from behind, the force of his thrusts short and shallow until it made me groan, "Harder..."

"Be patient..." Emmanuel murmured in return. One arm stayed locked around my waist, that possessive hand never leaving my abdomen. "I must take care with you now...you heard the doctor, hm? Just take it...good girl..."

Every time the scent of blood rose again from his skin it sent a strange, electrifying thrill through me—terror transformed into something darker and hungrier. The same man who had walked out into the night to end a threat was now moving inside me with deliberate care, protecting what we had only just learned existed.

I closed my eyes and melted into the sensation. Emmanuel’s thick cock stretching me open, his breath hot and heavy against my ear, the metallic tang in the air never quite allowing me to forget how dangerous he was. My orgasm built slowly and hit deep.

I dragged the duvet over my face and muffled the sharp cry into the soft cotton, toes curling hard against the mattress as the pleasure rolled through me in long, shuddering pulses.

Afterwards, the bone deep feeling of peace and relaxation was incredible. It swept away every trace of fear and doubt, leaving me almost giddy with euphoria.

I groaned as my higher brain capacity began to return. I burrowed my face deeper into the duvet, trying to block out the scent of blood, which was once more turning unpleasant.

The mattress dipped and released, a weight removed.

I peeked out of the top of the duvet.

Emmanuel stood just beside my bed, stripping off his clothes. Blood had seeped through the bandage at his shoulder. To add to his injuries, I only just noticed there were many small, thin cuts over his face and neck, as though something had scratched him.

"What happened to you?" I asked.

He lifted a hand to his face and traced one of the deeper scratches. He had more reddened scratches on the back of his hands.

"I jumped out of a window," he said mildly.

I shook my head in disbelief.

"You—I can’t believe you were in the mood for sex..."

"Oh?" A smile flashed across Emmanuel’s face. He leaned in closer as though to share a secret. "Doesn’t it make you feel...more alive?"

"I..." I shifted back, knocking into the headboard. "I prefer staying alive."

"You will," Emmanuel replied instantly. "No one will get through me to you."

I looked away, gripping the duvet tightly.

Emmanuel looked at me a little longer, and then turned towards the door.

"I will get myself cleaned up. As for you, time to get out of bed, I think. It is almost midday. I will have Ricci help you move your things upstairs."

"Why am I moving upstairs?" I had barely gotten used to this room. Sharing the penthouse apartment with Emmanuel alone? That was...alarming.

"I’m fine here," I added.

"You are carrying my child," said Emmanuel, stretching out the words as though he particularly enjoyed saying it. "...and you have already proven that you need personal supervision. So I want you closer."

So, as usual, it was not something I could decline.

I sighed. "Great. An even smaller cage," I muttered.

"You had best take a look at what I am offering you before you call it a cage," Emmanuel replied.

——

The guest suite in Emmanuel’s penthouse was bigger than my entire house in East Windlem had been.

Massive bed, check.

Floor to ceiling windows, check.

Walk in wardrobe, luxurious bathroom suite, and it even had something that Emmanuel’s bedroom did not — a private rooftop garden.

I opened the balcony door and stepped outside onto the grass, which was framed by two pristine rows of green leafy plants.

The garden was encircled in the center of the building, so it was not windy despite being 89 floors up in the sky. Only the sky was visible overhead, speckled with stars and the occasional airplane, no sight of the city below. Beyond the glass on the other side of the garden must be some other area of the penthouse, too dark to tell exactly which.

"Is this adequate for you?" Emmanuel asked, leaning against the balcony door.

He was all cleaned up and immaculate again. The cedar and citrus scent of his cologne was stronger than usual, like he had sprayed extra to avoid setting off my nausea again.

At his voice, I tried to reign in my dazzled expression. It was beautiful, of course. A huge upgrade from the functional room in the staff quarters, let alone what I was used to before I came here. But this sleek, modern luxury style felt cold and masculine — his style, not mine.

Emmanuel really wanted this child. He would spare no expense for it. Even back when he had offered me the contract, he did not even blink an eye when I asked to double the payment.

Even though I could not quite believe that I was carrying a child, I realized something important. This child gave me leverage over Emmanuel Sagres that I did not have before.

The realization did not, exactly, make me happy.

It felt kind of hollow. But I didn’t want to dwell on that feeling.

I tested it instead.

"It would be great if there was a swing here." I pointed at a spot on the grass.

Emmanuel nodded.

"I will have Ricci install one for you."

"Can I choose it?" I offered a hopeful smile.

"As long as it is not dangerous for you, yes."

I pointed at the heavy velvet curtains next.

"I don’t like this color. Can I change it?"

"Of course."

I turned back from the rooftop garden and stepped towards Emmanuel, until I laid my hands on his waist.

Emmanuel’s gaze heated easily the moment that I came close.

I gave him a hard shove. Towards the suite’s door.

I knew very well, by now, that if he didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t budge an inch. Hello, terrifying killing machine. And yet when I pushed him, Emmanuel slowly stepped back, his brow furrowed.

"What are you doing...?"

"What if I don’t want you in my room?" I lifted my chin in challenge as I continued to push him back.

"You want me to leave?" He sounded somewhere between disappointed and mocking.

"I don’t want you climbing into my bed in the middle of the night again!" I said. "Let’s cut that out, okay? It’s really creepy."

"Really?" he said. "I thought it was to our mutual enjoyment."

My cheeks heated slightly.

"No," I said firmly. "I need my own space. Somewhere that you’re not going to be breathing down my neck."

Emmanuel’s eyes darkened, dragging down my body in a way that said he wanted to do more than breathe down my neck.

With one last push, I pushed him clear across the threshold of the doorway.

He stood in the hallway, looking in.

I stood one step inside, looking out.

If I didn’t take this opportunity to enforce some boundaries, I could be sure that Emmanuel would invade every element of my life.

"Boundaries," I said firmly, pointing out the line between the hall and my new bedroom.

Emmanuel didn’t answer either way, his expression flickering.

Well, I was going to take silence as agreement. That, and possibly jamming my door knob with a chair before I went to sleep. A good old classic...

I snapped the door shut.