To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) (2 page)

His fingers clutched my chin and he gently raised it, bringing my eyes from my glitter painted toes to his raging erection. I continued my ascent and paused on his muscled, golden chest. I continued the journey to the clear eyes that turned me into putty in his hands.

“Tell me what you want, Lay.” His words ran as deep as his ocean blue eyes. “To have sex?”

“There is no such thing as just sex with us,” I joked. His eyes flashed and I quickly added, “I mean, I want-” I paused, my nostrils flaring. “I want you to use my body...as you see fit.”

The slightest smile danced across his lips, turning my stomach into a flurry of butterfly wings. I was still falling, still craving him like I had at the start.

“We don’t have nearly enough time for me to use your body as I see fit. That’s going to take a lifetime.” Not one to dwell on romance and ooey gooey Hallmark moments, he stepped back and gestured at the chair I’d abandoned a few moments ago.

His voice was dark with erotic promises. “After you, Mrs. Whitmore.”

~

H
earing him call me ‘Mrs. Whitmore’ made every step I took harder than the last. The syllables rippled over me, starting at my toes. The marble beneath my feet was as cool as his glacial blue eyes, eyes that felt like blue flames as they lingered on my ass. That intensified the thrill as I took the second of four steps. Would he tell me to get on all fours, with my ass in the air? It would take a little more effort than usual with the bundle of nonstop energy that was growing in my belly, but it would be worth every iota of exertion to feel that sting as he doled out a punishment I deserved. That I craved.

The multicolored braided fibers that made up the rug beneath the chairs gave my toes something else to taste. Equal measures of rough and soft. Like his touch, when he was making me work for it. Taking me to the edge of pain and bliss and stroking away any urge to use the word that would bring it all to a screeching halt. In that space, in those moments, the only word I knew was, ‘More’.

I reached the edge of the iron legs of the chair, leaning in to the kiss of metal for a moment before I ducked my chin against my shoulder and peered back in his direction. All the excitement that exploded in me like fireworks wrapped around my question.

“What’s next?” I sucked in a breath when I realized he’d moved like a ghost and was right behind me, his fingertips skating along my spine.

“I know it’s been awhile since we’ve explored, but I assure you: the rules have not changed.”

He gathered my hair in a low ponytail, his grip gentle, almost soothing and I inhaled, heat rushing to my cheeks, to my pussy because I knew the other side to the coin was coming.

“But you know that, don’t you?” His grip tightened, his tug jolting my head back.

My exposed neck wasn’t that way for very long, his other hand sweeping across my collarbone, his fingertips gliding across my taut flesh. I gulped and breathed in the moment. The ocean, the sun warming my skin, the hiss of discomfort, followed by the heat of desire as he teased my neck. He had a direct line to my nipples, engorged and pointed skyward. My core hadn’t stopped clenching, fluttering like the first time, from the moment he looked at me like I was the beginning and the end. The reason the sun rose in the sky and the moon gleamed among the stars.

He released my hair when I whispered ‘Yes sir’, tears pricking my eyes. The hand that disciplined me joined the other that pleasured me, roping around my belly, stroking the curve gently before veering downward, to the apex of my desire. The wetness between my thighs.

His digits strummed my quivering folds and moans whispered from my lips.

“Oh, Jacob,” I groaned, spreading my legs wider, knowing I was being bold and incapable of helping myself. The spanking I was gunning for was about to be mine. I heard him cluck his tongue with disapproval, but he dipped his fingers deeper inside me. Pushed into my warmth and my body sighed around his touch.

“You’re so wet for me,” he breathed into my ear, his lips brushing a hot trail up and down my neck. “It’s been too long since you’ve let me touch you.”

Let me?
My eyes flew open, my heart twitching in my chest. No one let Jacob Whitmore do anything. The first time we’d met, we didn’t waste time on my misgivings or any concerns about public indecency. He took what he wanted.

Before I had time to pull us from the moment, to get defensive, he spun me to face him and I saw all I needed to see in his eyes. He was different. The cold, terse enigmatic billionaire was not all there was. There was a husband there, a man who had needs, but also had love and understanding and support.

He was hard and throbbing with all the things he wanted to do with me. To me. But he wasn’t sure how to be my Dominant, my husband, and a expectant father, too. And despite the little tug from earlier, he needed my words. He needed me to speak up. ‘Let’s have sex’ wasn’t good enough.

I made a T sign with my hands. It earned a smirk and a nod from him, despite his body screaming the very notes my own body screamed. He’d felt the days and nights without claiming me too, and the last thing either of us wanted was a time out or a soliloquy on the state of the Whitmore union.

“I’ll be quick, promise,” I assured him, my voice raw and husky with lust. Since I was already in deep, I went a step further and assured him with my grip, wrapping my hand around his cock and squeezing. My words fell from my lips like machine gun fire, frantic and absolute. “I’m afraid, too. Of everything. Of being a mom. Of balancing it all. But I don’t want us to become one of those couples that has sex once a month. Or on their anniversary.”

He pressed a single finger over my lips, shushing me as his smirk broadened to a full-on smile that made my heart float right to my throat. “Life happens, baby. And if you have any doubts about how badly I want you, need you, and how impossible it would be for me to only have you once a month, hell, once a year...” He rounded my breasts, his fingers poised around my nipples. “Let me ease your worries.” He flicked them with his pointer finger, massaging my swollen mounds until I forgot every word in the English language and could only moan. “I want you. Now more than ever.” He let go of me abruptly and crossed his arms. “Now lay back and spread your thighs for your Dom.”

I moved with more eagerness that my new body was prepared for, and the aches and pangs had nothing to do with BDSM. I eased myself down with a little bit of TLC and reclined like he commanded. He saw me, all of me, and I couldn’t stop the blush from possessing my face and racing down my neck. The sunscreen kept me from turning red as a lobster at the hand of the sun, but there was no shield that could keep me from turning crimson under my husband’s hot gaze.

I focused my energy on steeling my trembling limbs and spreading my thighs. I couldn’t meet his gaze. It brought out the brat in me, the wild woman who wanted to ignore protocol and pull him into me. The impatient woman who forgot that the ritual was just as important as the release.

“Close your eyes.” His order came from above me, the sun darkening his features, masking him in a way that turned him into everything. My whole world. “I just want you to feel me.”

I shut my eyes, welcoming the dark. Riding the bliss as his fingers skated over my knees and he pushed my knees gently apart. I bit my lip, reveling in how exposed I was. Completely at his mercy.

Nothing prepared me for his mouth. His lips collided with my erotic flesh with no warning. His tongue lapped and circled my clit with a frenzied beat that matched my pulse, galloping, reckless as I gripped the armrest and begged for more, knowing that I’d never be sated. There was no ending. No amount of him that would be enough. No way I, or he, could stay away long enough to bring my worries to fruition.

Blowing on my clit, ending me in three of
our
favorite words, he whispered, “Come for me.”

My release came roaring from me like something that seemed tamed, only to break its shackles and go for the kill shot. I thrusted my hips up to meet him, my body, forgetting that there was anything except this bliss.

I clutched the air, clutched my husband, with everything I could muster. Still trembling and trying to catch my breath, I turned to Jacob. He wasn’t staring at me like I was the current record holder for ‘Hottest Mess Ever’.

In his eyes, I saw nothing but love.

“D
o we have to go home?” I sighed ruefully, gazing out at our incredible view of Diamond Head. The sun glittered on the golden sand, beckoning me in a way I’d either ignored or practically missed our entire vacation.

A week in paradise—I’d spent that time away working remotely, napping in a bed I wished I could take home with me, and delighting in my growing baby bump. I’d heard that those peevish requests to feel my tummy (and those who didn’t bother to ask) got annoying, but I hadn’t reached the point of glaring anyone down. I saw the wonder and awe in their eyes and I felt it whenever I touched my tummy myself. It was a humbling and terrifying thing, like the world had become vast and filled with colors and sensations and possibilities I’d never even considered...and a niggling fear that there were two sides to this coin. What in the world had I done to deserve this life? What had I done to deserve happily ever after? And why couldn’t I shake the feeling that there was something lurking, waiting to turn everything upside down?

“Personally, my vote is to sell it all and just live here.”

Jacob’s voice rippled across my skin, so close that my heart danced in my chest. When I caught Jacob’s glimmering outline in the glass, my body sighed with contentment as he wrapped his arms around me.

He pecked my bare shoulder with his lips. “We could open a little cafe on the beach.”

“I’d be the head chef, of course,” I grinned, going all in since we were crafting our fantastical island life. “You could round up the coconuts so we could give every table their own coconut water, straight from the source.” I bit my lip as I snuck a hand between our bodies. I gripped him, knowing I’d find him swollen. At this hour, he was only a few strokes, a squeeze, or a coy glance away from being throbbing, pulsing, and ready. “You’d hunt for coconuts shirtless, just so we’re clear. A walking billboard for our cafe.”

I couldn’t see his face, but from the way he twitched against my palm, I had a feeling I’d find that signature Jacob smirk on his lips. It was etched into my heart: one side of his lips lifted just far enough to say that he wholeheartedly approved of my boldness—but to tread carefully. If there was one thing that drove him crazy (and made him hard as a rock) it was when I topped from the bottom. It was a surefire way to ensure he’d punish me.

I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate our last morning on the island.

He rounded the curve of my bottom in response, squeezing and kneading it. When he spoke, his voice like red wine and honey, I nearly melted on the spot. “Didn’t get enough yesterday, hm?”

“Psh,” I dismissed that notion, pushing my body backward, feeling solid proof that he didn’t get enough yesterday, either. “There is no ‘enough’ when it comes to you. To us.”

“On that we are in agreement,” he answered, his voice dropping a few octaves to the rich timbre that drove me mad with desire. Truly bold. Bold enough to do whatever it took to have him. “But your methods,” he continued, digging his fingers into my flesh. “They’re guaranteed to bring out the Dom in me.” He lightened his touch, his fingertips grazing my tender skin. “But you know that, don’t you?”

“No sir.”

I smiled at his reflection. Jacob had let his hair grow in the front, softening the cool, fierce lines of his face. Making him more playful. There were no fun and games in his blue gaze as he outlined my spine, stopping when he reached my neck. I’d teased him so he gave it right back to me, stroking the back of my neck, gazing at me like he had the best view in the house and it had nothing to do with what lay on the other side of the glass.

“No sir?” He repeated, vaulting his dark brow. His fingers stopped tugging my strings, his voice deepening with equal measures of admonishment and intrigue. “So, you're not only provoking me, but you're lying as well?" The rumbling in the back of his throat was hard to pin down. There were equal notes of incredulity, awe, and something that I swore was grunt for 'Tread carefully'.

I did my best to still my stammering heart and focused on the part of me that wanted to be bad. That needed to be punished. That needed his strength so when he let go, we both could find our bliss.

Besides, we hadn't put a dent in the lust that seemed to be eating me alive. As much as he craved control and my submission, neither of us could deny that there was something about my defiance, a taste of brattiness that clearly turned him on. And I didn't know of any other way to be. The fight, the comebacks, the bite of sarcasm along with my submission—it was
me.

I bit my lip, muting the smile that reached from my mouth down to my core, remembering the feel of him hardening in my grip a few moments ago.

I spun on my heels, the tangled covers swirling to the ground around me. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief when I saw that awe had kicked anything else to the curb. His face was awash with curiosity, and I had his full attention. My eyes darted to his crotch and shot back up as heat claimed my cheeks.
All of his attention
.

My options were endless. I could drop, or ease, all things considered, to the floor and take him in my mouth. Show him how badly I craved him. Feel the way his body reacted to my lips. My tongue.

I could lead us back to the bedroom, the sheets already discarded, giving us a blank slate for a very erotic masterpiece, starring Jacob and Leila Whitmore.

I could skip the bed and step things up a notch and head to the shower. I'd finally figured out the console that controlled the water. It was high time that we determined if the ledge in the shower was the right height for me to perch a foot and him to slide in real close.

“I can see your mind is racing with all the things we could do,” he said casually, crossing his arms against his chest like he wasn't naked, delicious and hard as a rock. His blue eyes flashed with something closer to the truth. A heat that flickered and danced and made it seem logical, hell,
mandatory
to play with fire because it would hurt so good.