Page 7 of Oops Baby for the Billionaire
I don’t want him to ask me to finish that thought. I part my lips, trying to think of what to say to change the subject, and his gaze darkens. All the air around us goes hot as his stare intensifies.
My lips immediately go warm from his attention, a curious heat that swirls inward, pouring into my chest and lower.
“Willa,” he finally manages to say. Just my name. But I hear the concern. I don’t want his concern. I want more of that wicked attention on my mouth.
So I change the subject the only way I can think to. I push up on my toes and I kiss him.
Chapter 4
Roman
Willa tasteslike the copious strawberries on display inside, fresh and tart, a burst of summer against my tongue. I lick at her again, deepening the kiss. Tasting champagne and youthful eagerness I have no right knowing, but I’m going to remember forever nonetheless.
Her mouth is lush, sweeter than anything I’ve ever experienced in my life, and the way she whimpers as I take over the embrace does something to me on a cellular level.
I growl back, hauling her tighter against me, until her soft curves are pressed against my normally hard and unyielding body.
Thigh to thigh, hip to hip. Belly to cock, and there’s no hiding how instantly hard I am for her. Breasts to chest.
And her arms tighten around my neck.
“I’m getting carried away,” I growl as I fill my hands with her ass. “Tell me to stop.”
“Why would you stop?” She lets out a surprised laugh. “Do youwantto stop?”
Fuck no. I kiss her as deeply as I can, swallowing the last of her laugh. Holy hell, that tastes good. The best thing ever, actually.
And when I ease out of that kiss, she chases my lips.
Both of us laughing.
Both of us needy.
I sweep my hands up to her waist, to that thin blouse that doesn’t do a thing to hide how tight her nipples are. “Is this okay?” I ask against her mouth as I brush my knuckles against the side of her breast.
“Oh yeah,” she pants. “Please touch me.”
I cup her breast through the shirt, her flesh filling my palm, and my thumb curves around her to perfectly land on her nipple.
She gasps into my mouth.
“Yeah? You like that?” I pull her lower lip between mine, sucking on her mouth the way I want to devour her nipple.
She whimpers and nods, enough permission for me to flick the first button free on her shirt. But then she shudders, and when I put my fingers to the second button, that escalates to a full body spasm.
“Okay, sweet girl,” I murmur. “We don’t need to?—”
She grabs the front of my shirt. “Don’t stop.”
“You’re scared.”
“I’m nervous.” She gives me a tremulous smile. “I don’t think I’m scared.”
“Nothing to be nervous about. I think you’re beautiful.”
She rolls her head to the side, blushing.
I release my hold on her shirt and catch her chin, bringing her gaze back to meet mine. Her eyes flare at whatever she sees in my expression.
