Page 37 of The Billionaire's Baby
Her features freeze. "You bastard," she snarls.
"It’s true, isn’t it?" I tilt my head, "You want to get pregnant. I am happy to oblige. In fact, I am doing everything in my power to ensure that our joined mission is successful."
"You sound so sincere," she stares at my face, "I almost believe you."
"That’s because I am." I turn back and pop the bread into the toaster. "I have your best interests at heart, Sparks."
She scoffs, "Sure, you do. That’s why you tied me up, huh?"
"It’s part of our agreement." I turn to glare at her.
"It’s not what I agreed to."
"You agreed to submit to anything I want," I point out.
"This," she waves her hand in the air, "this isn’t what I expected."
"You concurred." I tilt my head.
"You could have warned me." She holds my gaze.
I survey her flushed features. "Fair enough." I place the spatula to the side, turn off the flame under the skillet and cover it. "I won’t tie you again until you ask." I prowl over to her. "And ask, you will, I promise."
Her pupils dilate.
She bites down on her lower lip and my gaze drops to her mouth. Pink lips, swollen from where she’s been worrying it between her teeth.
I reach out, drag my thumb across the puffy flesh.
She shivers, then steps back, "Stop that."
"You don’t get to dictate this arrangement."
She throws up her hands, "Hello, this is about me getting pregnant, isn't it? So clearly, I need to get a say. Besides, left to you, I’m not even sure you're going to copulate with me."
"Copulate?" I blink. "Did you say copulate?"
"It seems more official than using the F word," she mutters. "In this situation, I mean. After all, we have an arrangement, right?"
I stare at her, and she folds her arms across her chest. "Look," she draws in a breath, "I’m trying to figure out what the hell you want from me, okay?"
"That’s where you are going wrong." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ears. "You don’t need to overthink this. Just surrender yourself to me for the next few days."
"Surrender?" She stares up at me. "You’re asking me to put myself in your hands."
"What do you have to lose, hmm?"
"My control?" she snaps back.
"Would that be so bad?"
"You don’t understand." She rubs her fingers across her arms. "I’ve never gone a day without working. Not in a long time. I’ve devoted every second of my working time to building my business, and now, out of the blue, you tell me to switch off."
"It’s good for you to occasionally pull back."
"You mean slack off?"
"I mean gain perspective." I take in her agitated features, the way she shuffles her feet, then twists her fingers together in front of her. "Something you could do with," I add.
