Page 40 of The Billionaire's Baby
"Feeding you before I fuck you."
My skin tingles. Jesus, this man has a filthy tongue…and a filthier mouth. The things he’d done to me with that mouth earlier. I wriggle around in his lap and the hard column in his pants jabs in between my asscheeks.
"Keep that up and I’ll lay you out on the table and eat you instead."
Moisture laces my core and I squeeze my thighs together. "That was a terrible line," I scoff.
"So why are you turned on?" He leans over to scoop up some of the food then holds it to my mouth, "Open."
I flatten my lips together, and he chuckles. "You’re cute when you’re annoyed."
"I’m not annoyed, I—"
He slides the food inside my mouth. I lick the food off the fork tines and his gaze intensifies. "Careful," his voice rumbles up his chest, "you’re testing my patience."
"Wasn’t aware you had any." I chew the food and swallow. The flavors linger in my mouth. "This is good." I frown at the food, then up at him.
"Why are you surprised?"
"Just thought you, with your billionaire lifestyle...."
"Billionaire lifestyle—?" He forks up more of the food, offers it to me. I wrap my lips around the fork, and once more, the buttery taste of the eggs underlined with the fragrant notes of basil, seeps into my consciousness. "It’s really good." I say with my mouth half-full.
"I cook better than most people."
I blink, then laugh, "Of course, you do."
"It’s the truth." He feeds me a few more mouthfuls of the omelet along with the toast.
I open my mouth, and he bypasses me. Instead, he wraps his succulent lips around the fork tines and licks it clean.
My belly flutters, my mouth waters, and trust me, it’s not only for the food.
He reaches for the food, offers it to me again. I lean forward, and this time, he brings it to his mouth.
"Hey," I protest as he repeats the previous action; this time he seems to curl his tongue around the fork even longer.
I should look away, should get up and walk out and... Go where? It’s a freakin’ boat. And I’m trapped here with him. And we have a deal, for better or worse. He’s promised to give me what I need most. The price I have to pay for it is not that much, in the larger scheme of things. If anyone can get me pregnant quickly, surely it is this very virile a-hole of a man, right?
He reaches for the remaining food on the plate and I wrap my fingers around his wrist.
He freezes.
I trail my fingers across his knuckles and goosebumps dot his skin.
Huh. Imagine that. Apparently, alphahole, here, isn’t impervious to my charms, either. I slide the fork from his grasp, scoop up the last piece of food from the plate. I turn and hold it up to his mouth. "Open," I murmur.
He parts his lips and I slide the fork between them. He swirls his tongue around the tines and my core clenches. He curls his fingers around my wrist, moves my hand down. He squeezes and the fork slips from my fingers to clatter onto the table.
The sound ricochets between us as he leans in closer, closer. He places his lips right in front of mine. The heat from his big body enfolds me, sinks into my blood. The scent of him—bergamot and edgy darkness goes straight to my head.
His gaze holds mine. Those blue irises lighten until they seem almost transparent. A mirror that reflects back some of the sensations I am feeling right now. Lust, need, a gnawing emptiness that spills from my core.
"I am going to kiss you now." His breath sears my mouth.
I lean in closer, until my lips almost touch his. Until there’s only a hair’s breadth of space between us. No, not even that. Less than that, actually.
He stays that way for a beat, another. My hairline prickles; my toes curl. This anticipation… It’s w-a-a-y sexier than anything I’ve ever experienced. My throat closes and my breath comes in small pants.
