Page 43 of The Bratva's Nanny
I lifted a brow. “I don’t remember asking you to.”
“But—”
“You won’t leave this room until I say so, Maria,” I ordered, “Stay put.”
She did, and I swung a leg over to keep her in place in case she wanted to try something funny. The crimson on her cheeks morphed to a deep shade of scarlet, and I tipped a finger under her chin, raising her head up to eye level.
I knew a hint of mischief gleamed in my eyes. “What, don’t tell me the great Maria Simmons is shy now?”
She scoffed and plucked her chin from my finger, holding her head up high in the air with the same arrogance she had the day I blackmailed her.
“I don’t know what thoughts about me swim around in that head of yours, respectfully, sir, but it’s not every day I end up in bed with my boss.”
I suppressed a grin.
I really had underestimated this one.
She was as feisty as she was shy and as audacious as she was submissive.
And no, she couldn’t even begin to grasp the thoughts I had about her swimming in my mind. The naughty, dirty things I wanted to do to her.
“Roman, Maria,” I reminded her rather softly. Her gaze fell to my mouth, and she hiccupped. “Never ‘sir’.”
She answered quietly, “Okay.”
Then, her head snapped up, and the feistiness had returned. Her lips fell to a straight line like a tight stitch, and her short fingers curled into the duvet. “But the point is, this….” She motioned between us and shook her head. “What happened last night…it can’t happen again.”
Scooting closer, I squeezed her thigh and enjoyed watching the subtle shivers roll down her skin. Stopping above her knee, I asked her, “You didn’t like it?”
Her gaze flickered between my thumb, rubbing circles on her kneecap, and my face, and her blush deepened to a richer red. Her words tripped, one over the other. “It’s not…it’s not that I didn’t like it. I just—”
“Did you like it or not, Maria?”
She let out a frustrated groan. “I liked it, Mr. Varkov. Very much. But the subject matter here is Polina’s perception, okay? I care about how she sees me, and I don’t want her seeing me on this bed, with you. You, on the other hand, are such a great dad to her. Polly adores you.”
“She adores you, too.”
“I know that,” she stated firmly, trying to make me see reason with her. “But if she sees us this way…. How will we explain that to the six-year-old? That admiration might turn to hate.”
I knew Maria cared a lot about my daughter, and it touched me. Was almost heartwarming. But if she thought I was never going to fuck her again because of what Polly would think, then I was going to have to enlighten her. I did whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.
I deadpanned, “She won’t.”
“But you don’t know that.”
“Maybe not.” I shrugged and snaked my hand up her thigh, letting it linger close to the mound between her legs before withdrawing it. “But I have the upper hand, Ms. Simmons. I know your body: what you like, how you want it, how to give it. I know how to make your lips quiver, how to make your legs quake. You are not about to resist me, and you know it.”
By the time I concluded, our lips were no more than a hairsbreadth apart.
She breathed fast, inhaling and exhaling like she’d run a marathon. I saw the fight, her struggle to prove me wrong and walk out that door. There was a shift in her eyes right before she asked the most absurd question.
“I’ve been meaning to ask—”
“Why do you always get to the point where you suddenly need my permission to speak?”
She made a gesture with her shoulders and rubbed her elbow. “I guess it’s because you never fail to remind me that you’re in charge.”
Hearing that from her lips sent a rush of blood straight to my cock. I adjusted on the mattress, moving backward to evade brushing her thighs with the crown of my head.