Baby Batter: A Baby For The Billionaire Single Dad Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Malcolm wrenches back on my hair pulling his cock free of my mouth. Thick strings of saliva trail from my mouth and cling, at the other end, to his glistening cock. I pant for air and try to get the panic under control. My eyes are closed and I don’t see him twist his hips. I feel the bulk of his twelve-inch shaft smack against the side of my face.

  “You're going to learn a lesson one way or the other,” Malcolm says. I open my eyes and while he's still holding my hair, he's tilting my head as far back as it will go. He is bending over me. His face is just a single inch from mine. “You are going to find out the price of leading a man like me on, or you are going to find out that you really enjoy being a dirty whore.”

  Considering how much I'm enjoying this I don’t see much of an option. For any other man I would've put up a hell of a serious fight against being treated this way, but for Malcolm I am one hundred percent fine with being the nastiest, sluttiest fuck toy on the planet.

  I watch as he leans back coming to full height. His hips twist and his cock swings toward me again. The impact doesn’t hurt. The thick thud against my cheek is punctuated with a wet slapping sound. My darkest inner desire is in full control of me. My whole body explodes with the most powerful orgasm I've ever experienced. It's as if dynamite has gone off inside of me and my body and mind are shattered instantly into a million little pieces. I slump, his grasp on my hair the only thing holding me up as I lose all control of my muscles and joints. I shake with tremor after tremor as the feelings of ecstasy thunder through me.

  “I guess I know which lesson you choose to learn,” Malcolm’s steely voice says from somewhere seemingly far away. “I like the way you think.”

  A far distance sense of being lifted up registers at the very back of my brain. I have no idea what is coming next, but even the concept of rational thought is beyond my grasp right now. I want to be his whore and that means wanting what he wants so why put too much thought into it?

  I finally manage some focus when my ass lands on my desk. Pens, the stapler, and paper go flying. Malcolm roughly pushes my legs up so that the heels of my shoes catch on the narrow end of the desk. He pushes the hem of my skirt roughly up my body. My ass lifts of its own accord to let the obstructing fabric pass.

  “I think you've been planning this,” Malcolm says once again hissing through his teeth. I honestly have no clue what prompted that comment, “But you made a serious mistake.” Nope, still no idea what he's talking about. “A good whore wears garters and stocking, do you know why?”

  “No, sir,” I don’t think I've ever called anyone sir in my entire life but right now it seems so appropriate and, truthfully, really fucking sexy.

  “Because it gives any man easy access to your sweet little cunt.” There is another word that has never been sexy before, but just hearing him say in reference to my pussy send another shiver of joy up my spine. “You made the mistake of wearing panties. You're going to learn soon enough not to make such amateur mistakes. My fucking whore is going to open and available whenever I want, you got that?”

  I can’t form words. The delayed and serious look in his eyes is making it hard to concentrate on anything, and it's building pressure in my body. From the center of my pussy a deliciously delayed sense of pleasure is growing. He's going to rip my thong apart and fuck me. I have been wanting this since the last time we spoke. I've wanted this man to come take me this way, rough and mercilessly, and now he's going to do it. Malcolm is going to make me his. This is fucking amazing.

  I watch him lean over me. My eyes follow his hands as he reaches toward me. I suck in a breath. I'm going to thoroughly enjoy this moment.

  What the fuck? My eyes are glued to the movement of his hands and he's reaching past my crotch. This change in the anticipated action freezes me. I can only continue to watch as his thick fingers find the split in my blouse. It's like time slows. I'm mesmerized as I watch each individual muscle in his arms flex. Ropes of pure power coiling to unleash damage. Time snaps back to normal speed as the buttons of my blouse spring free flying across the room and the silk tears. The awesome display of power and the cool air against my skin make me shriek just a little. Malcolm pays no attention to my shocked noise. He's already reaching into my bra, with his hand digging desperately to find my nipple. He finds the nub without much searching. I can’t control the shriek as he pulls my tit free from my bra. My tit is stretched so far by him that it looks like a traffic cone attached to my chest. It hurts so much but I can feel the cum running out of my pussy.

  He lets my nipple slip from between his fingertips. My flesh springs back and he reaches in again looking for the other nipple. Again he pulls me free of the lace and padding, letting my breast snap back once he had stretched it to its fullest. Malcolm then grabs each of my boobs, one in each of his hands. He grips them so tightly it feels like he is crushing them and I guess he actually is crushing my tits.

  Splayed out on my desk with my tits out in the open and my legs spread I can’t help but feel so incredibly turned on. He may be extremely pissed off but I realize how much I've wanted to be wanted. How much I've wanted this man to be the one who wants me so badly he will break every rule and social convention to possess me. I can’t imagine how sex could get any better than this, and I allow myself just a second to marvel at how deeply I enjoy being his.

  “Mmmmmm,” I can feel his sounds of approval vibrating through his tongue as he licks the side of my neck, his hands still crushing my exposed breasts. I can feel the heat of his body as he bends over me. It's so soothing. His warmth spreads across my skin through what remaining clothing I have on. I feel my back pressing into him, trying to soak in as much of his heat as I can.

  Malcolm begins to stand up and as he does he releases his crushing grip of my tits. They throb with the return of blood flow that his strong hands have restricted.

  “You’re mine now and I will not tolerate any more of your silly little games,” Malcolm says as he is leaning back. I can only stare straight into his eyes. They are so intent that it is hypnotic to look at him. His features are so stern. Gazing at him I feel a sense of vulnerability. There is really nothing that I could do to get away from him at this moment. Not that I want to get away from him, in fact, the only thing that I want is to be closer to him and I desperately want him to be so close to me that he's inside of me. I try changing my tactics. I lift my hips trying to push into him.

  His cock is hanging out of his pants. I have no idea how his jeans, with the fly open and the button undone, can cling to his hips. Malcolm always wears the most perfect clothes. It's like he has them tailored, but even so the fact that they have not fallen is amazing to me.

  My eyes track the movement of his arm and hand as they swing back. My mind isn’t putting the pieces together. He reverses the swing and his hand slaps into the side of my aching breast. The sound of skin impacting skin echoes throughout the office. I'm sure my assistant is going to be bursting through the door any second now. I plead with the cosmos that she doesn’t come in. I have to have this man, now.

  Malcolm sneers as I bite my lip. I bet he is thinking that I'm holding back a scream, but I'm trying to keep myself from begging. The slap against my tit just adds to the excitement of what is happening to me, but I have to be careful now. Malcolm has kept his voice low and the crashing of my desk clutter had been pretty quiet. The slapping skin was much louder. If I screamed or started pleading for Malcolm to fuck me I'm sure people would be crashing through the door in an instant to find out what the hell was going on in here.

  I move my hips sideways just able to graze my pussy against the tip of his hard cock. The lace of my thong scrapes against my clit and I silently curse the barrier between him and I.

  Malcolm pulls back from me. There is no way that I reach him and stay on the desk. Fffffffffffuuccckkk!

  I'm about to give into my frustration. I don’t care what I started out acting like because now I'm willing to beg, plead, bargain, anything. My mouth opens. The words a
re forming in my throat when his fingers slip under the edges of my thong.

  The air is rent open with the sound of tearing lace. The cold air washes over my pussy cooling against the wetness that has spread over my lips and thighs.

  He is blindingly fast when he wants to be. Consciously I don’t realize he is in me until I feel the tip of his cock slamming against the back of my pussy. I can’t help the gasp of relief. He feels so hot. I can feel the shaft of his cock touching every part of me. It feels like I could start on fire from the inside and there is nothing I want more in this moment than to burst into flames.

  Malcolm wastes no time. His cock slides out of me and he hammers it back in. Over and over he rams his monster cock into my pussy.

  “That pussy feels so good. God damn you are an amazing fuck,” he says not bothering to control his volume. The growing flame inside me takes control of my mind. I couldn’t care less if someone walked through that door right now. In fact it would make this even better if Ben Danvers were to be the one to come in.

  My hips start to buck. I set up a counter movement to his so that his cock is buried deep inside of me. We move apart and then together in time. His powerful thrusts are making me slide along the surface of the desk. I grunt in desperation because he's getting farther away. He isn’t able to get as deep into me as I want him to be.

  Malcolm must feel the same frustration too because he grabs my legs and drapes them over his shoulders so that my calves are bent down along his back. I use the leverage to pull myself into him. “Yessssss,” he hisses.

  “Fuck me, please. Don’t stop. I need you,” I can't corral the words any longer. I have to let out what I've been feeling for days.

  “Don’t ever, fucking, hide from me again,” Malcolm growls as he pulls his cock out of me. This man calling me a tease is the very definition of the pot calling the kettle black. How in the hell does he know the perfect moment to pull away from me? It's like I have a frustration-gauge on my forehead and when it hits the red zone he denies me.

  Using my legs as handles he pulls me toward him and off the desk. His lightening movements allow him to change his grip and catch me by the hips before I start falling to the floor. He twists my hips and before I can really process what is happening to me I'm bent over face-first on my desk.

  Malcolm kicks at my feet like he's arresting me. My legs spread just a little, but it is enough. Before I have fully settled my weight back onto my heels his cock is spreading the lips of my soaking pussy.

  The tip of his cock presses against that certain spot before bending and moving deeper into me. The top of his shaft slides along that same spot and the fire that had been growing inside me becomes an inferno. The shaking is starting in my feet and climbing up my legs. My knees shake. I'm totally addicted to this feeling.

  My fingers curl around the edges of the top of my desk as my whole body is wracked with convulsions of the most intoxicating high any woman could ever experience.

  “That’s it, Athena. Cum on my cock. I love it when you cum while I'm fucking that perfect pussy.”

  His words punctuate the undulating on my body. His cock pumping in and out of me driving the surging pleasure through the center of me.

  “Oh, fuck,” I draw out as the final and largest wave of pleasure rolls through me.

  My breathing slows. I'm still gripping the edges of my desk so tightly that I'm sure that if I bothered to look my knuckles would be white. Malcolm is still driving his cock into me with a vengeance. How the hell does he manage to last this long?

  His fingers are digging into my hips. It's another ten points of delicious pain. I'm slowly recovering and he's still having his way with me.

  His fingers curl into my flesh sending sharp pangs of pain through me. He buries his cock deep into my pussy. I can feel the surging of his cock as he unloads. I feel wave after crashing wave pass through his shaft. I'm filling up with his cum.

  “Fuck, Athena,” he growls, slowly sliding his cock out of my pussy. “I missed this… all of this.”

  “Me too,” I confess, shuddering as I feel his long inches moving out from inside of me.

  “I know…” he whispers, trailing off as he tucks a lock of hair over my ear. “I know.” All of aggressiveness and dominance had faded away, like the first breeze in a hot summer day, and now all that’s left is kindness and… something more.

  That’s one of the things that made me fall in love with him. The way he’s capable of controlling his aggressiveness – the way he falls in and out of control whenever he wants to, and the way he wields that to fuck me in a way that no other man could.

  It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, you know? I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, and I sure as hell wasn’t supposed to surrender to him like this. But the way he handled me today, the way he put a stop to all of my hesitations… my God, I've never loved anyone like this.

  “I was going crazy, you know?” he continues, taking his hand to my pussy and softly caressing my inner lips.

  “With… what?” I pant, my body trembling as I feel the touch of his fingers.

  “You disappeared and I… fuck, Athena, I was afraid you were gone. And I can’t stand that thought, I just can’t,” he whispers, and his words are so genuine that I feel as if my mind is prickled by them.

  Here he is, opening his heart to me… and he has no idea that I have Ben snapping his jaw at my heels.

  “I’m sorry,” I finally tell him, not knowing what to say.

  “It’s alright.” With that, he goes down to one knee and, leaning forward, he opens his mouth and takes it straight toward my pussy. I arch my back and surrender to the touch of his lips, throwing my legs over his shoulders and allowing him to lick and suck to his heart’s content. And that’s exactly what he does, scooping up the thick strands of cum dripping down from my pussy.

  Without a word, he goes back up to his feet and, tangling his fingers in my hair, he keeps my head in place and crushes his lips against mine. I open my mouth and allow his tongue inside of me.

  We kiss in a wild frenzy, a blanket of cum covering both of our tongues; for a moment, I leave all problems and doubts closed in the dark vaults of my mind.

  When I pull back from his kiss, I wrap my arms around him and pull him close. Pressing my head against his chest, I let myself fall into a deep silence as I listen to his heartbeat.

  Oh, God, what am I going to do?

  Malcolm

  Henry is driving me back to my office and during the car ride I can't stop thinking about Athena's cum-soaked thong.

  The way she smiled at me when I instructed her to wear it for the rest of the day and not take it off. The way I had her in the palm of my hand, molding her like a piece of clay. The genuine smile she gave me the moment I told her to unbuckle my belt.

  Her hunger for my cock was undeniable. You just can't fake that.

  Is she still wearing that thong?

  Can she feel me between her legs during every meeting she takes, and every phone call she makes? And if so, does it make her stop mid-sentence and cause her words to catch in her throat?

  Can she smell me as she moves across the room, like something wild beneath her skirt?

  As these thoughts flash through my head, I can't help but smile.

  Victory. Sweet fucking victory.

  But just as quickly as that smile forms on my lips, it vanishes when my car pulls up to the front of my office building.

  There's eight million fucking people walking around this city, but I catch a glimpse of a familiar man walking into my building, and it doesn't take much for me to recognize him. I could spot those high-arched caterpillar eyebrows from a mile away.

  Ben Danvers.

  What the fuck is he doing here? I watch as he enters the building.

  He claps the security guard on the shoulder and by the way they're laughing, they seem to be sharing some private joke. Who the fuck does he think he is?

  The way Ben is walking in, his chest puffed out
in an exaggerated swagger, he's acting as if he owns the whole fucking place and that makes my blood boil. He has no business here.

  I thought the fact that I nearly broke his face the last time he decided to come into my office would've been enough of a deterrent for him to never show up here again.

  But I guessed wrong.

  I hop out of the car, slamming the door shut behind me, and decide to follow him in, keeping a safe distance between us. That way, if I need to confront him, I can catch him off guard. Besides, my mind is raising about a thousand red flags and a hundred more alarm bells.

  He's up to no good. I feel it in my bones.

  Why else would he be here?

  But despite my trepidation, I make it back to my office without an incident. I have no idea what floor he's on, or whose office he's visiting, but it isn't mine.

  After he went up in the elevator, I never saw him again.

  Not that that leaves me feeling any better.

  In fact, it's just the opposite. My mind is fucking reeling.

  As soon as I sit down at my desk, I flip open my laptop and begin opening up old files on my hard drive. I spend an hour sorting through folders that I haven't bothered opening in months, and then I see something that stops me cold.

  It's an old news clip that I saved. I can't believe I forgot about this.

  The headline reads: "Two CEOs Create Powerhouse Partnership."

  What the fuck?

  When I squint down at the picture, I see two people sitting at a table, staring at each other starry-eyed and locked in an embrace.

  Those two people are none other then Athena Hawke and Ben Danvers.

  Nothing in my life has prepared me for this feeling. I'm a man who needs to be in control. I need to control my environment—every fucking piece of it.