Page 9 of The Pakhan’s Hidden Heir

I ease out of her slowly and reach for a tissue from the side table, wiping gently between her legs, then myself, before helping her stand on unsteady feet. She avoids my eyes at first, that same reserved flush still coloring her cheeks, but her eyes do linger on my still-hard cock.

I hand her clothes to her one piece at a time and watch as she dresses. Once she has her clothing back on, I button my own shirt and straighten my jacket, tucking my dick away from her curious eyes.

“Come with me,” I say, placing a hand at the small of her back.

Raina hesitates for a moment, but when I start moving she moves with me. I lead her out of the study and through the quiet hallways.

The house feels different with her in it, though I refuse to dwell on that thought right now.

I’m so close to having my heir I can taste it, and I don’t want to spoil that pleasant thought with the thousand negative ones that challenge it.

We climb the stairs to the second floor and I open the door to my bedroom, the large space dominated by the king bed against the far wall.

She makes a squeak of surprise as her eyes widen and she stumbles into the room, then she turns to me and says, “What’s this?” I hear the shock in her tone, but I’m not surprised by that either.

A woman of her means is probably awestruck by my luxury. She will just have to get used to it. That might take a bit of time.

“This is where you’ll stay,” I tell her, gesturing inside. “With me. Every night until the job is done.”

She takes a step back toward the door, and one hand comes up to her chest. “I thought I’d have my own room.”

“Did you?” I let the door swing wider so she can see all of it. “How did you imagine we’d make a child, Raina, with a wall and a hallway between us?” I don’t mean to sound cold or harsh to her, but I’m sure that’s how she perceives me. The rigid set of her shoulders tells me she feels like she’s being chastised.

Her mouth opens then closes. She never let herself picture the actual mechanics of the thing she signed, only the money waiting at the end of it. Her eyes turn toward the bed then back to me, and I see the moment she decides not to fight me on it. Smart girl.

“I didn’t think it through,” she admits.

“That’s alright. Now you understand.” I carry her duffel, left by my men near the door, to the bench at the foot of the bed and set it down where Ingrid will find it later. “You’ll sleep in here but you may use any part of the house you’d like.” When I turn back I notice how frightened she looks.

She stands in the middle of my bedroom, looking tiny and overwhelmed, and takes it in—the bed, the windows. It’s an impressive room, though I’m not one to be showy with my decor. But whatever she’s feeling, she keeps it off her face.

“There are things you need to understand about how I live, so we’re clear from the start.” I cross to the window and look out over the grounds then back at her. “I work long hours. I’m gone most mornings before you’ll be awake, and I train before that. Some nights I don’t come up to this room at all—there are weeks in this business where sleep is the last thing on my mind. But when I’m here, and I want you, you’ll come to me.”

That makes her eyes widen slightly, but she purses her lips and nods.

“That won’t always be at a decent hour, and it won’t always be in this bed. There will be days I send for you in the middle of my work, and you’ll come then too, no matter what you’re doing.”

She’s gone still, arms folded across herself, but she isn’t protesting my instructions.

The thought of having her at my disposal day and night, any time the urge strikes me, is arousing enough I’d like to take her again right now, but I restrain myself.

“You understand what I’m saying to you?” I ask, tipping my head toward her as my eyebrows rise.

“You are saying I have to have sex with you any time of the day or night any time you call?” Her throat works, but still she keeps a serious face and I’m impressed.

Such a good girl she is for not balking at my demands. This may work out better than I hoped.

“For as long as this takes.” At least she’s quick. I won’t have to say the same thing twice, which is more than I can say for half the men under this roof.

But she frowns and asks, “When you don’t want me—what am I supposed to do with myself all day?” Her tongue draws out over her lips, and I picture the moisture probably still drizzling out of her into her panties. It makes my dick twitch.

“Whatever pleases you.” I mean it, mostly. She’ll have a few restrictions but not many. “You have the run of the place. The kitchen, the library, and the grounds inside the wall. Ingrid will bring you anything you ask for. I’d rather you be comfortable than miserable. A miserable woman doesn’t carry a child well, and I’ve put too much into this to have you fretting yourself sick over being bored or isolated.”

“And if I want to leave? Go into the city, see my friend?” Her chin rises slowly, but she doesn’t look defiant. She looks curious. We didn’t discuss any of this previously in detail, so it makes sense that she still has questions.

Here’s the part she won’t like, so I give it to her straight. “You can leave the grounds but not alone. I’ll have guards on you at all times. Men who aren’t happy with me will actively seek any in-route into my life. That includes you.

“The day you’re carrying my child, you turn into the easiest way in the world to get to me, and every man who’s spent years hunting for a way in will use you the moment he learns you exist. So when you go out, my men go with you, and they stay close. That isn’t about keeping you on a leash. It’s about keeping you alive.”