PREGNANT FOR THE BILLIONAIRE MAFIA'S HEIR

PREGNANT FOR THE BILLIONAIRE MAFIA'S HEIR

Penelope Kazakhstan

4.5
Comment(s)
52K
View
141
Chapters

I never broke eye contact as he slicked his already hard cock up with it. It never did take him long to get hard in my presence, especially after working me open when we had stood under the stream of the shower. Shuffling his ass forward just a little, he pulled me close to help me slowly sink onto his cock. Once my ass was flushed against his lap and he was to the hilt, he sighed, and I could see the exact moment that all the stress left his body. "Thank you." He whispered. ______ I got pregnant after a sizzling one-night stand. I didn't know then he was the son of a billionaire mafia Don. That night, he walked over to me with powerful strides that announced to the world, that he owned it. The dim light dancing over his sculptured face, Teased me with a glimpse of perfection. His deep baritone voice vibrated thru my core, and before I knew it, we were back at my place, thrusting into ecstasy. For hours he took me to heaven and back, But on earth, he became cold as ice. Then, without so much as a name, He walked out the door and out of my life. I tried to forget him, Until I got unexpected news from my doctor weeks later. and before I had time to digest the information, I was snatched by two men. Now I'm in the presence of the Don of all Dons, congratulating me on my pregnancy. And the man that took me to heaven, is now tasked to keep me in hell.

Chapter 1 1

Aryana

"Here's your drink!"The bartender had to shout for me to hear. I gave a small smile and collected what had to be the fourth drink tonight. I sipped from my glass of whiskey as I turned my attention toward the dance floor. It was so full that you couldn't see the floor.

The vibe in the club was chill, but I couldn't seem to relax. I was so tired! My schedule was hectic. Between studying hard to get my master's degree in psychology and working part-time to pay for my education, it was no wonder that I was so exhausted. That was the reason why I was here by myself. I just wanted to have a drink and have a night's reprieve from all the stress in my life.

I stared at my drink, watching the liquor bounce around in the glass. Then my eyes strayed back to the dance floor. I was tempted to join the throng of sweaty bodies dancing without a care in the world. It made me envious of how they could dance, as if their week had been much better than mine. I downed my drink, stood up, and went to the dance floor.

By the end of the night, I was feeling better. Turning my head, I noticed someone looking at me, and I stopped dancing. I wanted to pretend I had stopped dancing for another reason, but it was because I was astounded at how strikingly handsome this man was!

He was tall with broad shoulders. With the dim lighting at that side of the club, I couldn't make out his features, but from the high cheekbones and sharp jawline I could see, it was clear that this was a man of a high caliber. His gray eyes gazed at me, and I wasn't sure if he had been watching me all along or if it had only been a passing glance, but it was definite now.

It was hard, but I managed to tear my gaze away, breaking the brief connection we shared, and made my way back to the counter. I ordered a glass of water and hurriedly gulped it down, hoping it would quench the heat in my body. I took a deep breath and looked back in his direction. I furrowed my brows when I couldn't see him. I wondered where he had gone, but I wasn't left to contemplate his whereabouts for too long when he appeared beside me. My breath hitched in surprise.

Seeing his face up close was enough to put me in a trance. His gray eyes glittered whenever the strobe lights flickered over his face. It complimented his olive skin.

"Can I get a tequila?" His deep voice echoed in my ears as he addressed the bartender. The magnetism of his voice was enough to jolt me out of my blatant staring.

When the bartender returned with the mysterious man's drink, I had expected the man to leave. Instead, he sat on one of the stools, leaving me excitedly confused. I was happy he had stayed and wondered if he would speak to me. When I saw him earlier, it didn't look like he had come alone. Weren't his friends waiting for him? I looked back but couldn't catch any sight of his companions. I shrugged. I wasn't complaining.

"Um..." I trailed off, not knowing what to say, as I got lost in his deep gaze that seemed unfathomable.

"Would you like to dance?" The man asked, a small smirk hanging on the corner of his lips.

This stranger wanted to dance with me? There was no way I was about to refuse. I smirked back and stood up.

Wow! Standing beside him made it clear just how tall he was. My head only approached his collarbone, meaning I had to tip my head back to make eye contact with him. I didn't want to admit how much that made my legs quiver.

"Sure," I replied and took his offered hand. As he led me back to the dance floor, I tried not to dwell on how warm and big his hand was. Judging by the calluses on his palm, he was not a stranger to hard work. It made sense with how strong his body looked under his black, silky shirt.

My hips swayed, and my hands and arms began to move with the music. I wasn't aware of my own body, only his, as he placed his large hands on my hips and tugged me closer to him. One dance led to another and another. His skin glistened as the beads of sweat rolled down his collarbone. As the bar faded into a blur, we never spoke to each other, and the world became just us.

Our bodies moved as one. Perversely, I reveled in the dampness of his silk shirt. I imagined being with him in bed, embracing him after making tumultuous love. With my eyes closed, I could feel his breath and heartbeat. I opened my eyes and saw a bead of sweat roll down his face. I followed its path, stopping when it reached his mouth. I don't know how long I stared at his heart-shaped lips. I unconsciously licked my own, and my body was set on fire when I noticed his eyes watching my mouth and tracing my tongue. I did it again, but slowly. I basked in how his eyes got darker and glowed with lust.

Continue Reading

Other books by Penelope Kazakhstan

More

You'll also like

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

The Mute Heiress's Fake Marriage Pact

Alma
5.0

I was finally brought back to the billionaire Vance estate after years in the grimy foster system, but the luxury Lincoln felt more like a funeral procession. My biological family didn't welcome me with open arms; they looked at me like a stain on a silk shirt. They thought I was a "defective" mute with cognitive delays, a spare part to be traded away. Within hours of my arrival, my father decided to sell me to Julian Thorne, a bitter, paralyzed heir, just to secure a corporate merger. My sister Tiffany treated me like trash, whispering for me to "go back to the gutter" before pouring red wine over my dress in front of Manhattan's elite. When a drunk cousin tried to lay hands on me at the engagement gala, my grandmother didn't protect me-she raised her silver-topped cane to strike my face for "embarrassing the family." They called me a sacrificial lamb, laughing as they signed the prenuptial agreement that stripped me of my freedom. They had no idea I was E-11, the underground hacker-artist the world was obsessed with, or that I had already breached their private servers. I found the hidden medical records-blood types A, A, and B-a biological impossibility that proved my "parents" were harboring a scandal that could ruin them. Why bring me back just to discard me again? And why was Julian Thorne, the man supposedly bound to a wheelchair, secretly running miles at dawn on his private estate? Standing in the middle of the ballroom, I didn't plead for mercy. I used a text-to-speech app to broadcast a cold, synthetic threat: "I have the records, Richard. Do you want me to explain genetics to the press, or should we leave quietly?" With the "paralyzed" billionaire as my unexpected accomplice, I walked out of the Vance house and into a much more dangerous game.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

The $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire

Nap Regazzini
4.5

I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future. "Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead. I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good. I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything. I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it. "I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing." He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book