CARRYING THE BILLIONAIRE’S BABY, BOOK 2
THE BILLIONAIRE’S GIFT
Gwendolyn Bridges
Smashwords Edition, Copyright 2013
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OUR STORY THUS FAR
April O’Connor receives a strange offer from enigmatic billionaire Alexander Atherstone. He wants to hire her to be his surrogate and deliver him a child — but he wants to impregnate her the old fashioned way. After some convincing from Joanne Brook, Alexander’s most trusted advisor and longtime assistant, April signs the billionaire’s contract. Their first attempt to conceive results in a night of steamy passion. But April isn’t pregnant yet — and she still has a lot of questions about her mysterious new employer.
Carrying the Billionaire’s Baby, Book One: The Billionaire’s Offer is available now — visit gwendolynbridges.com for purchase details.
Those first few precious weeks were some of the best of my life.
We quickly developed a routine. I’d put on one of the designer dresses he had given me and complete the look with dark sunglasses so big that they covered half of my face. There was really no need for secrecy — It’s not like anyone would ever identify me and expect the truth. But I liked to play up the clandestine nature of our meetings. I guess I had always wanted to be a secret agent. This was the closest I was likely to ever get.
And so April O’Connor, erstwhile secret agent, would steal into the big Atherstone tower, looking nonchalant with my sunglasses and fancy dress. I tried to wear heels a couple of times but could never make it from the door to the elevator without stumbling. So I stuck with my flats. Secret agents always wear flats, I told myself. It seemed like something that might be true.
I’d nod at Darryl, the nice man who stands beside the billionaire’s private elevator. That’s all he did every day — stood there. I tried to ask him once if he deals with a lot of visitors on a day-to-day basis. Darryl just shrugged. Then I asked him if the job paid well. To that, Darryl just grinned.
On an average day, he’d simply nod and produce a small silver key. Placed into a lock above the elevator buttons, the door would open and I’d step into my direct private transportation to the building’s top floor penthouse. A penthouse that belonged to billionaire Alexander Atherstone, the man who was working hard to put his child in me — to impregnate me the old fashioned way.
The first few visits, I’d be met by his personal assistant and confidante, Joanne Brook. She was a reserved older woman who still insisted that I call her Ms. Brook. She’d make me wait while she fetched Alexander from another room. But after a few visits, I no longer saw her. I knew she was probably somewhere in the sprawling penthouse, but she stopped greeting me. Instead, there was just him.
The elevator would ding and I’d step off, and there he’d be — Alexander, my billionaire. He always looked completely composed in a well-cut suit, his hair — dark with just a hint of grey — always perfect. He wore an elegant mixture of cologne that didn’t overpower but was so unique that just a hint of it reminded me strongly of him.
After days of meeting and making love — of trying to conceive — any lingering awkwardness about what we were doing faded and was replaced by a kind of primal passion. I stepped out of the elevator one day and was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him, our lips instinctively finding each other and meeting in a tender but passionate kiss.
I hadn’t expected so much kissing when I had signed the contract to carry the billionaire’s child. Alexander always struck me as so by-the-book and business-like that I couldn’t imagine this arrangement leading that kind of passion. But I had been wrong. There was something about how his eyes focused so clearly on me, and the way he kissed me — I had to admit that in my weaker moments I wondered if this thing between me and him was more than a simple contractual arrangement.
But I always pushed those thoughts out of my mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. My job was to get him aroused and ready so that he could put his seed inside of me.
On one particularly perfect afternoon, the sun streaming through the windows of the giant living room in the penthouse, he wasted no time at all, kissing me passionately and pushing me up against the wall next to the elevator. His roving hands drew down the sides of my dress, his every touch sending shivers through me.
“Hey,” I whispered, as our mouths broke apart briefly.
“Hey yourself,” he said, his hand wrapping around my back to find the zipper of my dress. “Arms up,” he ordered.
I had gotten used to this — the way he took control and told me exactly what to do. Truth be told, I loved it.
I complied with the command, and he pulled the dress over my head, tossing it to the side. I was wearing sheer black lingerie underneath — something that I had never really thought to do before, but had wanted to do specifically for him. It didn’t hurt that the money had had provided for expenses was more than enough to cover my rent, food and medical bills — I had enough left over for special treats.
He stepped back and looked me up and down, passion in his eyes. Then he gave me that trademark half-smile of his, so quick that you had to know him to notice it.
“Step over to the window,” he commanded, and so I walked over to the side of the room, standing next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side of the room in the penthouse. Afternoon sun streaked in, bathing my nearly-naked body in natural light.
“Turn around,” he demanded. “Put your hands on the glass.”
I didn’t think twice, turning my back to him and sliding my hands against the nearly-invisible glass wall, leaning forward so that my forehead was pressed against the window. I could see everything from up here in the billionaire’s house — thousands of people walking on the streets below and beyond that a great big expanse of water. It was the kind of view that could make someone feel contemplative.
But Alexander gave me no time to contemplate anything. Instead, he quickly stepped toward me. I heard a ruffle as he shed his suit jacket, then a jangle as his belt buckle hit the floor. Just as I heard a soft zip — his pants opening — I felt him pressed against me.
“I’m going to fuck you now,” he said, his lips so close to my ear I could feel his every word.
He gripped my thighs and pushed them apart, my hands sliding against the glass of the window. He didn’t even take the time to pull my panties down — instead, he just pulled them aside and pulled down the waistband of his boxer briefs. I felt the head of his cock press against my soft folds, and spread my legs a little wider to help perfectly position him. This was no time to play coy, I realized — he wanted to be inside me and I would be a fool to pretend I didn’t want the same.
He entered me quickly, his manhood sliding deep into my pussy. He worked his way in harder and deeper, pressing in as far as he could take his thick, hard cock. When he was pressed in almost to the base of his cock, he reached around and caressed my breasts, pulling down the cups of my bra and touching my nipples. He’s wasting no time today, I thought, as he tweaked my nipples and pressed himself in deeper.
I looked down over the city as the billionaire started to fuck
me. The idea that I was totally exposed up here — my panties pulled aside and my bra askew — only increased my arousal.
“Fuck me,” I whispered, as he pulled his cock out of my cunt almost completely. At my urging , he shoved it back inside.
But he wasn’t content to fuck me just the one way that day.
“Turn around and face me,” he commanded. And I did, pressing my back against the window. He quickly gripped his hands underneath my thighs and suddenly lifted me, holding me up so I was pressed against the glass, my breasts pressed against his unbuttoned shirt — our bare skin felt warm against each other.
Then, still holding me up, he pulled the soaked material of my panties aside again, and positioned his cock against my wet lips.
He said nothing as he thrust into me, but our eyes met and locked together. We stared deeply at one another. I wrapped my arms around him, caressing his back through the thin material of his dress shirt as he pushed me hard against the glass window, lifting me higher and then impaling me on his hard cock. I rode him with all that I had, our eyes locked in an intense arrangement of passion.
Thrusting his cock deep into my cunt, he shuddered in pleasure and brought his mouth to my breasts, sucking my exposed nipples pushed up against the material of my bra. I moaned and responded back, letting my mouth find his neck and kissing him up and down, my tongue lingering on his skin.
That only drove him further into lust. I knew he wanted to come.
“Give it to me,” I whispered, licking at his earlobe. “Shoot your cum inside me. Impregnate me. I want your seed.”
My words seemed to set him off because he wasted no time in lifting me high into the air and then thrusting me down hard on his hot throbbing cock. I felt the tremors building quickly along his shaft and soon he was pulsating hard inside me, and moaning against me. He brought his mouth to mine as I felt the first few jets of his warm cum shoot deep into my cunt.
“Yes,” I said quietly, as he kissed me and worked through the tremors of his orgasm, my ass pressed against the window. “Give me all your cum.”
He complied. His orgasm rolled through him again and again, to the point where I felt like the cum would never stop. But finally he subsided, falling back with a satisfied sigh into one of the chairs in the living room. I slid down the window and lay on the floor, not even wanting to waste the time it would take to find a proper place to rest, and raised my legs and hips into the air, pulling at my panties so that they covered me again — I wanted to seal in his cum.
I elevated my hips and angled myself in the floor so that his cum would drop into me. This was such a common part of our routine now that it felt natural. I shut my eyes as I felt the thick liquid dripping inside of me.
He kept his eyes on me, sitting back in the chair, his shirt unbuttoned and his semi-hard cock still hanging out the fly of his pants.
“Mmmm,” I said, hoping I could coax him into a second round. I let a hand drift down my chest, tweaking my nipple which still poked over the cups of my bra and then descending further, beneath the waistband of my panties. I cupped my mound and then, finding small droplets of his cum on my thighs, I scooped them up with my fingers and pushed deep inside. I couldn’t let a bit of him go to waste.
I touched myself idly, watching as he soon brought his own hand down to stroke his cock with light touches. Each one made him a little bit harder. Keeping my hand on my pussy, I crawled over toward him with a hungry look on my face. There’s definitely going to be a round two, I thought, eyeing his rigid member.
I positioned myself on all fours in front of him and he pushed his cock toward my mouth. I leaned forward and gave it a tentatively kiss, letting my tongue drift across his head. He shuddered with pleasure.
I pressed two fingers into my pussy and took more of him into my mouth. I couldn’t wait to feel him inside of me again, I thought, swirling my tongue up and down his shaft. I couldn’t believe how much I yearned for it. I had to remind myself, in moments like that, that what Alexander and I had together was still nothing more than a contractual arrangement. That while these few weeks of trying to get me pregnant had been fun, they’d soon end. I couldn’t allow myself to hold out hope that he still didn’t be interested in me — in this — once I had his baby inside of me.
Because, really, I thought, rubbing a hand across my clit and then dragging my tongue from the base of his cock all the way to the top — this was Alexander Atherstone. There was probably a long line of girls ready and willing to do this kind of thing with him. I was just a girl with a job.
I looked up at him as I took his raging manhood into my mouth again. He opened his eyes and looked at me with perfect intensity. And with that look, all my previously rational thoughts were vanquished by hopeful questions.
Is it possible this man could really want me?
I wasn’t given much time to ponder that question. Just as I was about to stand up, slide my panties off and climb into his lap, letting my wet lips sink over his hardness, we were interrupted by the sound of a polite cough.
“Ms. Brook,” Alexander said nonchalantly, without a hint of embarrassment. I, meanwhile, spit his cock out of my mouth so fast it made a popping noise, then moved to pull my bra back up so it covered my breasts, smoothing my skirt over my soaked panties. I must have turned bright red.
“Ahem,” said the woman, who had to be close to 60 but still had nearly flawless skin and a slim, petite body. Speaking with a British lilt, Ms. Brook was the very definition of proper. But if she was surprised or uncomfortable with walking in on her longtime boss with his cock buried deep in my mouth, she didn’t show it. “Mr. Atherstone, there is an issue with the Kobashi deal. The board is saying you need to meet with them right away. I have your plane ready.”
“Damn,” he said, standing up and buckling his belt quickly. He buttoned his shirt as he turned to look at me on the floor, still feeling a bit mortified.
“Glad we got one round in at least,” he said with a half-smile.
I smiled too. “Rain check?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, walking over to Ms. Brook who handed him a new tie. He slipped it on and tied it expertly. “You’re using the pregnancy tests, right?”
“Everyday.”
“Good,” he said, walking over to the elevator and pressing the button to open the door. Ms. Brook hadn’t moved — watching him from the other side of the room. “You let me know the second it happens.”
“I will,” I said, rising to my feet.
“I’ll have Ms. Brook let you know when I get back,” he said, disappearing into the elevator. I sighed deeply as the doors started to close, but then a hand shot out and blocked them from closing completely.
“Forgot something,” said the billionaire, striding out of the elevator. I didn’t know what to expect, but he slid an arm around my back and kissed me.
He said nothing else, breaking our kiss quickly then turning to step back into the elevator. With a soft ding, the doors closed.
Ms. Brook and I were left alone in the sprawling living room. I zipped my dress up, trying to make myself look a little less dishevelled in front of the woman who always looked like she had it all together.
“You can stay as long as you like, of course,” Ms. Brook said.
“Thank you,” I responded. The woman always had a way of making me nervous.
“I’ll be in the office if you need anything,” she said, turning to leave. I sat down on the couch heavily, thankful that she was gone. I considered finding my way into the guest room again — the one with the wardrobe containing the box of sex toys. As awkward as the interruption had been, I was still drenched with wetness. The thought that Alexander’s cum was still inside me turned me on. An orgasm would feel good.
But before I could make a move toward the room, Ms. Brook emerged again through the double doors.
“A warning, Ms. O’Connor,” she said tersely. Her normally serene and cool expression was gone. She never betrayed much emotion, but at
that moment I could almost read anger in her face. “And I hope you don’t find that I am speaking out of turn.”
I just stared at her with a dumbfounded look.
“I have known Mr. Atherstone for a very long time. Since he was a young man just making his way in the world. I watched him as he figured out how to achieve success. I know his methods. And they’re actually very simple. Have you picked up on it?”
I moved to speak, but she kept going.
“Of course you haven’t, you poor girl. What Mr. Atherstone has that has made him so successful — that has brought him to this penthouse in this tower with all that he desires — is an unfailing ability to get what he wants from other people. He has an almost supernatural ability to convince people that he can do good for them. He is persuasive. Magnetic. It’s a gift.”
I nodded. I could see it in him. I could see it in the way he used his words so carefully. I could see it in the way he looked at people with such fierce intensity. I could see it in that trademark half-smile of his.
“But make no mistake, Ms. O’Connor. Mr. Atherstone is first and foremost a businessman. He excels in getting what he wants. He excels in building his company. He does not excel in making young women like yourself feel happy and fulfilled forever.”
She shot me a meaningful look. “I hope you can see where I am going with this?”
I didn’t. Not really. But I didn’t want to say anything stupid — not in front of this imposing woman.
“Oh, child,” she went on, her eyes falling to the floor. “You really don’t get it, do you? I can see it in the way you look at him sometimes. You think maybe what you’re building here is about more than a piece of paper you signed. You think it is about more than delivering a child.”
Her words stung. She was wrong, wasn’t she? I had been mature about this. Yes, I had grown to love our trysts and what Alexander had given me. And, sure, there were moments when I let my mind drift…
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