Billionaire's Surprise Baby: An Mpreg Romance

by Harper B. Cole

  He ignored my comment, acknowledging it only with a lift of one eyebrow. “So I started applying for internships that week, got the job, and as soon as I finished up the classes I was still working on, I picked up, moved, and started.” There was a slight hesitation as he ended his sentence, but he seemed to shrug it off. “That’s it, really.”

  “I’m impressed,” I said.

  The haughty look and posture returned. “Did you think I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own?”

  “I wasn’t being sarcastic,” I assured him. “I am impressed. That took a lot of hard work in a short period of time. You don’t stop at anything once you set your eyes on it, do you?”

  There was a moment of awkward silence, and I wondered what was going through his brain as he looked off into the distance. “Generally, no,” he agreed.

  I could tell there was a level of this conversation I wasn’t reading, and it was driving me nuts. I was used to seeing the connections and motivations between people and words while barely trying. Now, I was bending my entire body and will to understand Michael, and I was coming up with a whole lot of nothing.

  I had this devilish urge to set him off balance, to crack open the shell he was hiding behind and see what was inside. “I’ve thought about you,” I admitted, and was rewarded with the shocked widening of his eyes.

  “You must say that to all the men,” he said finally, tossing away my comment like it was nothing to him.

  “Yes,” I agreed, and his nostrils flared. “I’ve said it to every man I’ve been with for the past two and a half months.”

  “How does it normally work out for you?” His tone was so acidic, that if words were tangible, they would have fallen to the floor beneath us and burnt through to the ground.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’ve only been with one man during that time frame, so I’ll let you know how it goes later.” There, that had shocked him out of his composure. “I really wish you’d stayed a little longer that morning. I reached for you. It’s disconcerting to reach for a warm, sexy man and come up with cold sheets. I had plans…”

  His tongue darted out and licked his full lips. Again, I thought of how good they’d look wrapped around my cock and nearly groaned out loud. How was I going to get any work done this afternoon knowing that those soft lips and that sweet, sweet ass were only a couple floors away? Fuck this afternoon, how was I ever going to get anything done? I might as well just turn my office into Porter’s Pleasure Den and invest heavily in some lube companies.

  I was in the process of clearing my brain so that I could act like a decent human being and not a hormone-driven Neanderthal when Michael asked breathlessly, “What kind of things?”

  My cock twitched, and I gave up that fight. “I wanted more of you, Michael. I want more of you still. I wanted to wake you up with my mouth on your cock, to bury myself deep inside you, your fingers clutching at the sheets before your brain even knows why.”

  I could tell he was on the edge of something. Edge of what? Staying or running away? Before I lost him, I had to do something. I slid my chair around to his and kissed him. There was a frozen moment, and then he melted into me, just as sweetly as I remembered. It was torture to break away, but he wasn’t the only one who followed a plan. My brain had been working furiously since I saw that unforgettable ass the moment those elevator doors opened, and committing acts of public indecency was not on the schedule.

  My lips brushed his as I whispered, “Go to dinner with me this week?”

  It was comforting how fast he shot back his answer, with no thought or question at all. “Yes. When?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Michael

  A date. I was going on a date with the man who had filled my dreams and thoughts for the past two months—and my belly with a child, but I tried not to focus on that. I was already nervous without that being my predominant focus. Looking in the mirror, I decided good enough. I was wearing my best shirt, pants, and shoes, in which, if he took me anywhere like the place we went to lunch earlier in the week, I was completely underdressed. Thankfully, I still fit into all my normal clothes. I was already slightly showing since I was a little skinny in the first place, but my clothing was baggy enough to mask it, and it was at the point where it could look like I’d just had too much beer. I knew the baby was there, but no one else would unless I told them. My brother was already flaunting his baby bump all over social media. It was as awkward as you can imagine for me to know that we conceived on the same night. Not that he knew I was expecting. I needed to tell Porter first, and preferably before the baby was born. I needed to grow a pair. Come on, Michael, time to nut up.

  The knock at my apartment door made the butterflies that were already causing chaos in my belly to amp up their game. This man had power over me, the extent of which I was scared to admit to myself. I grabbed my wallet and keys as I made my way to the door. Even if I wanted to invite him in, which I wasn’t against, all I had was one old upholstered chair in the living room and one plastic lawn chair in the kitchen. I intended to go look at local thrift stores but had yet to manage it.

  “You look ravishing.” He stood before me as the door swung open, roses in hand, dressed more relaxed than normal, but still GQ-worthy.

  “Says the smexy man in my doorway.” I took the proffered flowers, enjoying the look of shock on his face. “I love them.” Thankfully, they were in a vase already, which I discovered as I carefully unwrapped them. All I had was an empty milk jug waiting to be recycled, and they were far too beautiful for that.

  “Why didn’t you come in?” I asked, perplexed that he stood just where I left him.

  “One, you didn’t invite me.”

  “Sorry. W-won’t you come in?” I stammered. Leave it to me to be rude to the one person I wanted to impress. “I haven’t had my own place in a long time. I tend to forget things like…you know…manners.”

  “Oh, sexy, that was only number one.” That wasn’t the first time he called me that, yet it held all of the power it had the very first time. He thought I was beautiful. Me, the formerly underemployed, no-style man. Me. Maybe he needed glasses. Maybe he was blinded by the insane attraction we felt. I didn’t care the reason, only that he did.

  “Two being that if I came in, we would miss our reservation.”

  Yes, please.

  “A little sure of yourself, aren’t you?” And the man had every reason to be. If he came in, things would get heated. When he had kissed me at lunch, all the feelings from our night together flooded my mind. It was no longer just a memory. I could close my eyes and feel his hands on me, his lips on me.

  “Am I wrong?” He leaned into the doorway, wearing the cocky smile I loved so much. I wanted to close the distance between us and taste his lips. Who was I kidding? I wanted to taste all of him.

  “No. No, you are not.” He barely held in his chuckle at my honesty. “Which makes you a very dangerous man, Mr. Dahl.”

  “I told you before that you are safe with me.”

  “My body is, of that I have no doubt. My heart… I have a feeling that is very much in jeopardy.” Which would be true under normal circumstances, but now that I was carrying his child, it became exponentially more so. Closing my eyes, I pulled on all my courage to tell him. Right here. Right now. Except that as I opened my eyes, his words had my knees about to cave.

  “In this, you are not alone, love.” And with that he offered his arm, which I took without pause, all thoughts of confessing put on the back burner. “Shall we?”

  And with that, we were off to a night of eating and dancing, all the dancing. We kissed. We laughed. We talked. The night was magical, and even though the guilt sat close to the surface, I ignored it. I wanted this one night. One night, and then I would tell him. It wasn’t like it was a secret I could keep for long. I just wanted one night to know what could’ve been for when reality slammed into me.

  As he opened the car door for me when we left the restaurant, I once again took a de
tour from all the things I had mapped out for my life. “I don’t want to go home.” I sealed my words with a kiss before he swept me into the car.

  “Then we will go to mine.”

  As we drove off to his place, I committed every detail to memory, for I had a feeling that after tonight, a memory would be all I had.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Porter

  His place, my place, it didn’t matter, but so far this evening was following my plan. Before I could make the suggestion that we continue the night somewhere private, he had beat me to it. I should have expected that. Maybe someday Michael would stop surprising me, but I hoped not.

  That image I’d had of him that first day I realized he was working for me, the one where I messed up. His put-together look with swollen lips and rough sex hair, that image plagued me on the drive home. And it didn’t help that his hand pressed lightly against my thigh. It felt like my cock was a heat-seeking missile, and Michael was its target, just waiting to be fired. But I kept my cool long enough to get behind my sturdy front door. The moment I dropped my keys on the entryway table, though, it was on.

  I backed him up against the wall, shoving a knee between his legs as I braced myself on either side of his body. Immediately, his hips rolled, and I could feel the heat of his cock rubbing along my leg. I pressed my body against his, the hard planes of his body a little less firm, claiming and exploring his mouth. We were both panting and his hands knew what they wanted, slipping underneath my coat to pull me close to him and then sliding down to grab my ass. I grunted, the motion sending electric shocks straight to my balls, and I took a half step back. I needed to slow things down a bit. I had plans to make sure he never wanted to leave again.

  But Michael apparently had plans, too, and he quickly dropped out of the circle of my arms and fell to his knees in front of me. Fuuuck. “Keep your hands on the wall,” he commanded. “You are bound by my will.” The words were an echo of what I had told him that night in the hotel room. I had never been one to be controlled, let alone enjoy it, but I knew in that moment that no matter what Michael asked of me, it was his.

  He caressed my erection through my pants, and my hips involuntarily jerked forward. With focused intensity, he undid my belt and unzipped my pants, pushing them and my boxers to the floor with no preamble, and then his hands were on the front of my thighs, moving up over my hip bones, tracing the V of my groin. He took me, swallowing me whole. His mouth was a wet, tight wonderland. And then he started sucking. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the sight of his hollowing cheeks, of my cock sliding in and out of those perfect lips. It was everything I’d thought it would be and more. His tongue pressed hard against the underside of my cock and then twirled around the head as he rose to it, his hand following, twisting as he bobbed up and down. This hadn’t been in my plan, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to say no to it. Besides, I figured it fell under the general directive of giving Michael what he needed. And I could tell by the way he sucked me down and his eyes fell in satisfaction that this was something he needed.

  That thought was what tipped me over the edge. I didn’t have any time to warn Michael because suddenly I was coming down his throat as I realized how much pleasure this was giving him, let alone me. Michael sucked my cum down greedily, though, and popped off with a satisfied smack when my cock finally stopped pulsing.

  I fell to my knees beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. “Omega mine. You’re going to be the death of me.”

  I could feel his smile as his chin tilted downward, his head pressing against mine. “I hope not. I’d like to keep you around for a while.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant for just tonight or longer, but those words fed the craving I had for him. I stood, pulling him up with me. Instead of tucking myself into my pants, I simply removed them, the jacket and shirt quickly following. Then I scooped Michael up, making promises I intended to collect.

  I brought him to my room, to my bed, and set him down gently. I didn’t need to say anything; he was stripping the moment his feet hit the floor, naked before I had the chance to ask him to slow down. “I know you won’t be ready to go for a while yet,” he said, “but I’d love to lie with you.”

  As tempting as it was to indulge in one of my less carnal, more domestic fantasies of cuddling with Michael, there was something I had been waiting for months to do.

  “I think I can do better than that,” I growled and was satisfied to see the smoldering fire catch and bloom in his eyes. “Lie down in the middle of the bed.”

  I crawled between his legs and marveled. The last time we had done this, it had been a storm, a frantic need. I’d had two months to think of all the things I hadn’t had the chance to learn about Michael, two months to imagine how I would rectify that, and so I took my time, running my hands down his naked body, exploring his every plane, paying special attention to his responsive nipples. He’d filled out a little bit, and it looked so good on him. And when he was finally limp beneath me, his entire body relaxed with the exception of his perky nipples, I lowered myself to his cock and began enacting the fantasy I had dwelt on every night. He was absolutely slick, and I let my tongue dance from side to side, teasing his tip, swiping up to capture his pre-cum. I waited until he was a shaking, begging mess before I added a finger, entering him slowly and curving around to find his prostate. I had let myself think before, that there would be another chance to taste his release in my mouth, and I had been wrong. I wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass.

  And when he came, it satisfied me the way it had before, his cum shooting down my throat as his body quaked beneath me. His muscles clenched around my finger like a vise, and I remembered what it was like to be buried in him, feeling that same pressure milking me to completion. He screamed my name, he begged it, his entire vocabulary reduced to me. I licked and cleaned his cock with my tongue after the first wave subsided.

  Only then did I finally ease away from him and climb up the bed to wrap my body around his.

  I had thought that maybe one more night with Michael would settle me, that it would ease this aching longing I had been carrying since I saw him sitting alone in that bar in the town I had left behind so long ago. But it hadn’t. If anything, the feeling had intensified, and it scared me.

  The only person I’d ever given a damn about in this life was Miss Betsy, and she was gone now. Until Michael. And Michael had already left me once before. My arms tightened around him, locking him into place, and he hummed in pleasure, pushing that amazing ass back against my cock. It stirred in interest.

  “So, we’re going for round two this time?” I had to concentrate to keep my tone light and even. I felt like I was cracking at the seams, and every molecule of my being was asking one question: would he be here in the morning or not?

  “I figured we were playing tournament style,” Michael responded.

  “What sport, though? Tennis? Roller Derby? Ping-Pong?”

  Michael laughed, and the sound wrapped around my tattered heart, smoothing all its jagged edges and sneaking into every crack. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll figure out the rules as we go along.”

  I needed this man with an intensity that terrified me. He was everything bright and good in this world. I was only pure determination, but he made me want to be more.

  “What’s the first rule?”

  Michael pretended to think. “Well, each match must start naked.”

  “Every match? That seems to be leaving out some very crucial undressing moves.”

  “I wasn’t thinking. You’re right.” His hand trailed across my arm, sparks following every touch. “And we can’t say every match you have to start with clothes on because that would be a lot of unnecessary putting on of clothes.”

  “Very true,” I murmured in his ear, nibbling on the soft patch of skin just below it.

  “Then perhaps each match simply needs to start with a declaration of intent. Like tennis has a serve.”

  What would he do if I declared
my intent right now? That I wanted him in my bed, my life, forever. Would he run away? Would I lose this game?

  I shifted my hold on him to wrap my arm around him as I let my hand drift down to his entrance. “Like, ‘I’m going to push you up against that wall and fuck you so hard you can’t remember your name’?”

  He moaned as I teased his cock, diving farther to pick up moisture. Damn, he was slick. “That’s—that’s a good one,” he gasped.

  If we were sticking to tennis analogies… “I believe you have to hit a return to me.” I curled my fingers inside him, and his eyes went blank.

  “Uhh…”

  “Shall we say point to me?”

  I took my time with him, licking and teasing every inch of his skin. When we finally came, my cock buried deep in his ass, my eyes on his, it felt like the most glorious homecoming in the existence of humanity. As I lay down and wrapped my omega in my arms, still anxious that he might leave, without me even seeing it happening, with as little time as we had spent together, Michael had become my home. Something I had only found temporarily before, with Ms. Betsy.

  I was scared shitless.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Michael

  Why did he have to be so flipping perfect? Every time I finally gathered the courage to tell him, he had to go and do something amazing. It was never anything that most would consider big, either. He would notice something I had done or look at me with the intensity of a thousand suns as he gently ran his fingers through my hair. Once left me the sequel of a book I mentioned loving, on my desk. Not only wasn’t available to the public yet, making it a pretty big deal, but he remembered my mentioning it.

  Porter did have a tendency to spend stupid amounts of money on me, but he learned quickly that the things that made me the happiest and, quite frankly, put me on my knees, had nothing to do with his wealth. They had everything to do with his kindness and thoughtfulness. He might be the richest person I had ever met, but that wasn’t who he was. Sometimes I got the impression I was the first person to think so, aside from Ms. Betsy who’d loved him through all of his successes and failures. I wished I’d had a chance to meet her.