Baby for the Billionaire(150)

He repeated the caress. This time she groaned, and her body went soft, pliable—no sign of resistance remaining.

Her dressing gown opened with one tug of the sash that she’d tied in a bow. Underneath she wore a white, lacy confection that was likely to drive him insane.

Three buttons teased him.

It took him less than thirty seconds to unfasten them all. He brushed the neckline open, exposing the sweetly scented dip between her breasts. The slopes of her breasts glowed, pale and luminescent. Like a pair of priceless pearls.

Dana had always sported a tan. He forced his thoughts away from Dana, and stroked his hand across the rise of pale skin.

“Beautiful.”

He peeled the lace of the tab away, baring her breasts and covered her with his hands. “See? You fit inside my palms like you were made for them. Why would you want more?”

He could feel himself growing hard.

Releasing her, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off. Her hands came up and touched the bare skin of his stomach. His muscles pulled taut, and he fought back a groan of delight.

He wanted to murmur, “Touch me, touch me”. But it was too soon.

Instead he lowered his head and kissed the tips of her exposed breasts.

She arched her back, coming off the couch.

Connor opened his mouth, covering her whole nipple and used his tongue.

Victoria moaned, her eyelashes falling against her cheeks. Her head moved restlessly from side to side.

He moved across and sucked on the other nipple, until she shifted and moaned again.

“Like that?”

All he heard was a guttural sound of pure desire.

Connor blew on both nipples, and watched as they hardened and gooseflesh rippled across her breasts and belly. The hunger that took him was raw and primal in its intensity.

Lifting his own head, Connor slipped his hands under the hem of her skimpy nightgown, and stripped it off over her head.

His fingers trembled with want. And his heart was racing, the beat of it pounding in his ears.

He rose to his feet and dropped his pants and boxers.

“Don’t stop,” she remonstrated, opening her eyes. They grew wide as they took in his nakedness, his readiness for her.

He waited for her to back out.

But she didn’t.

Instead she sat up and stroked the length of his erection with her delicate fingers. Connor saw stars. He fell back against the couch and pulled her over him.

“Now,” he whispered.

She straddled him. Before he could shift himself nearer, she’d surrounded him with her hands and drawn him to the entrance of her body. In one swift movement she sank down on him.

Her body was hot and wet and wild around his.

When she started to move, he moved, too. The rhythm that built was full of passion and power. As he thrust upward, Connor felt the heat take him.

He met her gaze, the green-gold eyes wild with emotion. He’d never seen anything … felt anything … so absolutely, perfectly exquisite.

“I can’t hold—” He gasped.

Then pleasure surrounded him as her orgasm hurled her over the edge and the feminine shivers trembled around him.

Victoria awakened to the sound of clinking china. She opened her eyes to the unfamiliar surroundings of Connor’s bedroom. And the domestic picture of Connor clasping Dylan—clad in only a diaper—against his hip, while he carefully poured tea. The dark liquid spilled into two delicate, rose-patterned tea cups arranged on a tray on the chest at the bottom of the bed, much to Dylan’s wide-eyed fascination.

Connor should’ve looked incongruous—he didn’t.

In fact he’d never looked more gorgeous. Wearing only a pair of boxers—and an almost naked baby—he’d never appeared more male. Her gaze lingered on the broad chest on which she’d rested her head before falling asleep in the early hours of the morning.

Images of the intimacies they’d shared last night flashed through her mind.

It had been wonderful. And, as Connor had promised, there had been nothing casual about the experience. Victoria stretched, languorously, slowly becoming aware of all the hidden places where she ached.

“You’re awake,” Connor greeted her as she moved.

She gave a soft groan. He raised a dark eyebrow with interest and she felt her cheeks grow hot.

Before he could say anything—anything at all, however innocent—she said, “Oh, I’m dying for a cup of tea.”

At his slow grin she realized she’d given him an opening for any number of risqué comments, so she simply cooed at Dylan to break the growing hush.