Knocked Up By My Billionaire Boss

by Ella Brooke

  In that moment, she felt like the same tongue-tied girl who never dreamed that a man like James might look at her want her. She could cry out from how good it felt just to be wanted, but then James was standing up and stripping his fine clothes off. Her mouth went dry as she took in the sight of his body. In her memories, he was a handsome man, but now to have the real thing in front of her, she knew that her memory had played her false. There was something incredibly masculine about James’s body, something that made her feel all the more feminine. She loved the contrast between the two of them, and when James returned to the bed, she reached for him instinctively.

  “You are going to have to be patient, my darling,” he rumbled. “I have wanted this ever since I laid eyes on you at that damned stained-glass show. You are going to have to wait just as I have.”

  She started to offer him a quip about waiting in her own room, but then his mouth closed over hers even as his hand drifted between her legs. The kiss was hot and almost punishing, his tongue slipping between her lips with a decisive domination. Below, his hand was stroking her gently, parting her folds to find the heat between.

  Sooner than she would have thought possible, she could feel herself grow wet and wanting for him. It was as if her body, even two years later, remembered what he could do to her and how good he felt.

  “Oh, James, please...”

  “I think I told you you were going to have to wait,” he teased, and then he shifted downwards.

  She immediately missed his kiss, but his mouth was traveling down her throat, over her sternum and over her belly. He especially took his time kissing her soft belly, running the very tip of his tongue over it and murmuring with pleasure. She gave herself up to it, her fingers tangling in his dark hair.

  Then James’s talented mouth moved down below her belly, and after a moment Celia parted her legs for him. There was something inevitable about it; the fire between them would not let her bar him from any part of her. He belonged to her just as she belonged to him, and when they were inflamed with passion for each other, there were no other truths.

  James parted her legs, and she realized he was looking at her, his gaze so intense that it was nearly burning. She closed her eyes, turning her face away, but his hands came up to stroke her body comfortingly.

  “You are so very beautiful to me, Celia,” he murmured, and then he started to kiss her.

  James’s tongue slid along her folds, tracing first up and down her slit. She shivered at how he felt exploring her opening, but then he shifted up so that he could mouth the very apex of her pleasure. At the first pass of his tongue over her clit, Celia’s back arched and she cried out. Then his hand was over her belly, keeping her still and stable as he worked his magic.

  She could feel the air become perfumed with her desire, could feel how slick and warm their bodies were together. She might have been embarrassed at the sounds she was making, but the pleasure he was giving her forbade any other kind of awareness. Her body was tense and vibrating like a bowstring pulled back, and then with sharp sensation that was almost a snap, she toppled over the edge.

  She dug her fingernails into Jame’s shoulders, and her legs came up to wrap around his waist.

  “Oh! Oh James, please, please,” she cried out. She could not get any other words out, but her meaning was clear. She needed him. She needed him so badly, and he gave her what she had desired from the first time she saw him.He pressed the flat of his tongue straight against her clit, drawing her climax out until she felt as if she would die. He was the only stable force in a world that was rocked by sensation.

  James didn’t move again until she stilled, and even then he was gentle. He pulled back, drawing her hands down. His eyes were bright, however, and the moment she could nod weakly at him, he drew her into his arms.

  “I wish I could only give you pleasure after pleasure,” he murmured, hauling her up over him, “But God, Celia, I can’t be that generous, not with you; not when we have only found each other again.”

  She sighed with pleasure when she found herself straddling his thighs. Even on his back, there was nothing vanquished about James. She took in the sight of him on the rumpled sheets, and she knew that she she had never seen anything quite so beautiful.

  “I want you, beautiful girl,” he murmured. “Do you want me?”

  She knew that even if he were desperate for her that he would not continue without her consent. In this moment, however, there was nothing in her mind but a deep and abiding yes, just for him.

  “More than anything,” she assured him, and his hands closed over her hips.James lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, and then she was positioned over his cock. She could feel the blunt tip of it slide over her hot folds, almost teasing, but neither of them could stand to be teased much longer.

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Please...”

  He brought her down on top of him with a triumphant cry, and he did not stop until they were as close together as two people could be. She cried out at the feeling of being utterly filled with him, and as the waves of pleasure washed over her again, he started to move.

  She couldn’t quite tell if he was bringing her down on him or whether he was rising up to meet her, and in the end it didn’t matter. It was riding, but it was like riding a dragon, being lofted high into the air, only to be brought down again, and as they moved together, their bodies matched in a perfect harmony, she could feel the tension rising in her again.

  “Oh, James, I think I...”

  His face was dark with need, but he nodded. “I want you to,” he growled, and she shut her eyes, concentrating on the heat that radiated from where their bodies were joined. He was relentless, but so was she, and she could feel her hair falling down over her face as she gave herself to the pleasure.

  Her second climax was smaller, sweeter than the first. She was bathed with heat just as James’s hands tightened on her hips. As she opened her mouth to cry out, he brought her down hard on him one more time.

  James’s cry when he found his own peak made her groan, and then they were shaking together. Bonelessly, she fell over his chest, feeling the way shudders of pleasure rippled through her body and his. They felt like they were going on forever, and in the depths of it all, Celia wanted forever with him, not just in their bed but in all things.They might have wanted the pleasure to last forever, but at last, James had to roll to his side, pulling from her with a tenderness that made her heart ache a little.

  “How are you, pretty thing?” he asked, and for some reason, Celia felt tears fill her eyes. James reacted as if someone had struck him over the shoulders with a whip, freezing for a moment before drawing her into his arms. “Oh God, Celia, I am sorry, are you all right? I did not mean for—”

  She buried her face in his chest, letting the tears come. She knew she wasn’t sad, but there was so much emotion in her that the moment that it had come out. Finally, when they slowed, she was able to pull back a little, smiling tremulously at James.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “I don’t know why that happened.” James frowned, looking a little uncertain. It occurred to her idly that that was not something that James felt very often. He was a man who had built his life off of being sure.

  “Can you talk to me about it? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Not at all,” she promised, snuggling back into his arms. “I think it was just very intense. It caught me by surprise.”

  “‘Very intense.’ I think I can deal with that.”

  “Intense isn’t bad, not at all,” said Celia with a sigh. She stretched out a little, but she found herself unwilling to drift too far away from James. James, at the same time, seemed unwilling to let her drift too far, either.

  “Tell me if I did something wrong,” he said, and she looked at him, startled.

  “Not at all! I wanted all of that.”

  James nodded, seeming to relax somewhat. They lie together in the bed in silence, but there was nothing strained about it. It made Celia
think of the days when they had been together, of course, but there was more to it than that. There was something new and growing between them, and to her, it felt oddly fragile. She was just wondering if she should offer to leave when James spoke.

  “I should never have left two years ago,” he rumbled.

  Celia blinked. “You told me that you had to, and I took you at your word.”

  “I thought I had to,” James corrected. “I thought I had to do many things. I saw an opportunity to accrue more wealth, and more power. At the time, I thought that it was necessary. I did not see what that cost me.” Celia realized what he was saying. Tentatively, she reached out to touch his hand. When he squeezed it tightly in his, she was startled to feel him tremble a little.

  “It cost you time you could have had with Maisey,” she said softly.

  “It cost me that, yes, but it also cost me you. The more I look at it, the more I see the truth. You are worth far more than whatever deal I was chasing, and I am sorry. I am so sorry that you were ever afraid of being a single mother, and I am so sorry that you ever thought I did not want you.”Celia’s head spun. It was as if the adrenaline from their lovemaking and the vague spaciness that came with jet lag had all fallen together to make her feel as if she was tipping into the rabbit hole. These were the words that she had always wanted to hear in her secret heart of hearts. However, somehow, in all of her vengeful imaginings, she had never thought that James would sound quite so hurt, quite so heartbroken. Now that it had finally happened, she wanted to spare him.

  “James...”

  “Please,” he murmured. “Let us sleep for now. Tomorrow we can talk more tomorrow, I think.”

  Celia felt that this was a conversation that needed to be continued, but she had to admit that he had a point. Now that everything was still, she could feel herself slow down. In a few more moments, she would likely be snoring, but for the moment she was still fighting.

  “Should... Should I leave? Go back to my own room, I mean?” The question wasn’t a real one. She knew that as soon as she uttered it. He had shown her a room that was meant to be hers, where her clothes would go and close to Maisey’s. From the moment that he took her into his arms, however, she knew that he did not want to her to sleep there.

  “Of course not,” he said, and she relished his outrage, his possessive tone. “I want you right here, with me.”

  Celia nodded, burrowing closer to him. She knew that that was more or less what he would say. She simply needed to hear it again.

  Chapter Eight

  When Celia woke up the next morning, she saw by the bright light that was streaming through the window that she slept in later than she wanted. She jerked up, the memories of the night before flooding her mind. The memories were so delicious and lovely that it took her a moment before she realized that there was a little piece of paper folded into her hand.

  Puzzled, she opened it up.

  Darling, please sleep as late as you like. Maisey and I are getting to know one another. Do not worry. If there is the least cause for concern, we will undoubtedly wake you up.

  Celia read the note twice, wryly realizing that this was only one of a handful of times that she had not been awakened by Maisey’s cries for food or attention. Whatever James was doing, it was working, and that meant that it would likely keep working for some time.

  Well, no reason not to take advantage, she thought.She made her way to the private in suite bathroom that was added to the master bedroom. The house might have an antique air about it, but the bathroom itself, while charmingly tiled with an enormous gilded mirror taking up one wall, was modern. There was a shower, but beyond that was a sunken bathtub, one that could fit two or three people. The thought occurred to Celia, and then she blushed. Judging from some of the things that she had read about about James, there was a chance it had fit at least that many people. She put the thought out of her head as unworthy, however, and she made her way into the shower.

  What a strange luxury it was to be able to shower without keeping one ear open, she decided. Celia loved her daughter more than life itself, but she had to admit that simply being able to bathe herself without worry or concern was something she missed about her pre-motherhood days. She took a decadently long time in the shower, and then she ventured out.

  Celia found herself faced with a dilemma. Her clothing had been delivered to her own room somewhere down the hall. The clothes she had worn last night were destroyed, courtesy of James. She supposed that a truly cosmopolitan woman would have simply walked naked to her own room, but she didn’t think she was quite that brave. Instead, she found a velvety robe hanging up on the back of the door. The sleeves dangled past the tips of her fingers, and the edge threatened to drag on the floor. When she put it on, she was enveloped in James’s scent, something that made her heart warm. After knotting the robe around her waist, she decided that she was decent enough to go find her daughter.

  They weren’t in her room or Maisey’s room, but then she heard a giggle from the kitchen. It was definitely Maisey’s “I’m up to no good” giggle, and biting her lip, Celia quickened her pace.

  She found her daughter and her lover at the kitchen island, Maisey sitting on the table dressed in her play clothes with James hovering close by, ready to catch her if she tumbled. Maisey clutched an oversize crayon in her hand, and she was enthusiastically scribbling something on a large piece of butcher paper.

  “And some day, perhaps you’ll do so well that your art will hang in a museum, just like where your mama works,” James was saying. “And then she and I can go visit to look at your art and talk about how brilliant you are and how we knew you back when.”

  Maisey chortled with agreement, switching to another crayon, and James glanced up.

  “You didn’t tell me that Maisey was a savant,” he said, and Celia grinned at him.

  “Really, I can’t tell if you’re serious or if you are just so besotted that it doesn’t matter to you that she’s not even two.”

  “It can be both,” James said. “But after spending the last few hours with Maisey, I think I can say that she is definitely a burgeoning artist. I found out after we spilled her baby food.”

  Celia finally noticed the high chair nearby which was festively decorated with swoops of carrot. She had to admit that despite the mess, it was impressively colorful.

  “So did any of that get into her mouth?”

  James sighed. “Some of it. She seemed uninterested in the rest.”

  “Well, how about if I see if she wants another half-jar of baby food, just to be sure, and you can clean up the mess?”

  For a moment, Celia thought James would balk. He was one of the richest men in the world, and she had no idea how often he had to clean his own messes. To her relief, however, James only nodded, running some water over a clean rag, and she scooped up Maisey, pulling her away from the art. Maisey whined to be taken away from her project, but Celia calmed her soon enough with a bit of food from a fresh jar. Soon enough, she was eating happily, and Celia glanced up at a watching James.

  “And here I thought I was doing so well with her,” he said with a sigh, and Celia grinned.

  “If it helps, you are doing better than I think most would. You are trying. Every baby is different though, and Maisey has her own ways. You’ll learn them, if you stick around long enough.”

  James frowned at her. “Is there a reason I wouldn’t?”

  Celia sighed. “We should talk,” she said. “I think we’ve both finally calmed down enough to do so, don’t you? Why don’t you just clean the chair, I’ll get Maisey fed up and cleaned, and then we can sit down and see where we stand.”

  It looked like James might have liked to hash things out there, but he nodded, turning towards the chair. It took less time than Celia would have thought. In less than twenty minutes, Maisey was happily ensconced on the living room floor, playing with some of her favorite toys from Eastwick. Celia noted with a wince how shabby they looked in their new en
vironment, but she supposed that was natural.James was sitting on a divan nearby, and when he gestured to her, she came to sit next to him. She thought that this conversation might be conducted in a somewhat formal fashion, but she fell into the curve of James’s body easily. She pulled the robe closed where it gaped over her chest and turned to him.

  “What are we doing?” she asked, and he raised an eyebrow.

  “At the moment, or something else?”

  “I mean all of this,” she said, gesturing around. “You flew Maisey and I halfway around the world. You set us up in this beautiful house, one that you admit that you never stay at. I have to admit, I like this; I would be a fool if I said I didn’t. But right now, James, unless you can tell me what you are doing, it seems a lot like you are installing your mistress and your child where you can get to them when you want.”

  James’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “It is not that, Celia, I swear. It’s...” He paused as if searching for words. “Do you remember what I told you last night, about realizing how much I had lost?”

  When she nodded her head warily, he continued.

  “I meant that. I lost out on being with you for two years. I lost out on the beginning of Maisey’s life. I don’t want to lose out on more. I want us—all of us—to see what we might do together. How we might be a family.”

  Celia stared at him, not sure if she really understood. “A family? The Irish billionaire wants a family?”

  “Not just any family,” he said with a wry grin. “I want you. I want Maisey. When I am with you, everything feels right. It feels good, and I think it might feel that way for you as well.”

  Celia glanced at Maisey because her own mind was in a turmoil. Maisey looked calm and happy; when she noticed her mother looking at her, she grinned. It felt as if it were some kind of strange signal, some kind of hint from her daughter, who could surely not understand what was going on.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, shaking her head, and then James took her hand gently in his.

  “Then don’t say anything. Let’s just... try this out. See how we feel. You and Maisey already make me so happy. It’s wonderful. I hope I can make you happy as well. We’re playing house a little. Seeing how this might work. Surely that wouldn’t be such a bad thing?”