BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set 1-12 (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance) (Alpha Bad Boy Billionaire Romance)

by Violet Walker

  "You are..."

  For once, he was at a loss. The silence that followed settled for far too long. Unable to bear it, Elizabeth's confession poured forth.

  "I would have told you right away, but the doctor said that I might have conceived when I was with the pack, when Emilie seduced Rion—it might not be yours." Tears brimmed when she admitted this, though she did her best to bite them back. "If it's not yours...I'll just be a burden to you. I can't ask you to raise a baby that isn't yours."

  When he regarded her with further silence, she bit her tongue to keep herself from sobbing. Such abandon didn't seem right, in his presence. Yet though he initially showed disgust, this faded to something else. His hand rose to cup her chin, gently lifting her gaze to his.

  "Allow me to tell you something," he said. "Say nothing until the end."

  She nodded with acceptance, and he released her. Luthias folded his arms, appearing to withdraw temporarily into his own thoughts.

  "I am not like Kieran. His human mother, a stain on our lineage, raised him with human values. One of these values is that love is given freely among family, and should exist when one makes lasting ties with another. These values he passed to Emilie, reinforced further by her own human mother. When Emilie and I developed an interest in one another, I assumed she was forsaking her human upbringing, which would have forbade our union as unholy—I assumed wrongly that she saw me as another Canine Demon would see me, as an advantageous partner who would give her protection and children of status. As for my interest in her, I felt that her partling blood would make our offspring less than ideal, but her beauty and the promise of enraging my halfling brother made it a fair bargain.

  "I bed her, she soon became pregnant, and I continued my business. It confused me that she wasn't content with this. She undermined me at every turn. She knew she wasn't meant to be seen at certain events, as my taking a partling to my bed was considered distasteful—yet she went out of her way to not only make it known who and what she was, she would describe to visiting dignitaries the details of my most private habits. Even after Avery was born she continued this insolence, despite the coming child no longer preventing me from disciplining her like the ungrateful bitch—”

  Luthias stopped then, eyes closed, a breath taken. He went on.

  “I understand now: she did this because she felt I hadn't fulfilled my obligation to her...to return her love for me. She must have known that that word was not something familiar to me. My father was a warlord. My mother paid me no mind. I was taught what needed to be taught, trained in my power, and brought up to rule when my father perished. Such human values had no place. I explained this to Emilie, and she didn’t care. She continued with that infuriating way she was, until I found I no longer wanted her to change."

  His manner softened. Elizabeth felt her heart flutter when their eyes met again, his quiet calm returned, as she had always known it.

  "I still cannot say it easily," he said, closing the distance between them. "My tongue forms the words...clumsily. So, I will say this once, to you."

  His elegant hand held her cheek; she leaned into his touch.

  "You are her, different though you are in this life. What she spent so long teaching me remains now, like a cancer I can't cut out. It's embedded itself so deeply that I would raise a Wolf's bastard before I let you leave my side. Because...I'm in love, with you."

  Elizabeth hardly knew what to say. Her body was filled with warmth, her inexplicable yearning for him burning anew. She touched the hand that touched her cheek, all her worries fading, her voice returned.

  "I love you too," she whispered.

  For the first time in weeks, he kissed her. His fangs didn't seem as sharp now, though his mouth was greedy, stealing her breath as his hands fell down her sides, clasping her back, forcing her body tight against his.

  Before she knew it, her back was against his desk; Luthias knocked the papers and even the ink well to the ground before he lifted her to sit on its surface, where her hips were level with his. She spread her legs, hooking them around his waist as he pulled her dress over her head, revealing her changed body.

  Instinctively, her hands pressed over her chest and belly, though neither could be hidden by one palm at this point. Luthias rolled his eyes. He moved her hands aside; shedding his overcoat, he leaned down to kiss her breast where it bulged around an ill-fitting bra, squeezing her with cups now too shallow to contain her. He went to his knees, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he even kissed her belly, accepting its presence.

  Now, she was sitting at the very edge of the desk, her knees pressed into the strong chest left bare where his shirt hung open. Her breath caught with excitement when he slid down her panties, letting them fall to the floor before he pushed her legs up and around his shoulders. She clutched to his hair, moaning as he pressed her lips apart, allowing cool air to caress her folds. The bridge of his nose nestled against her clit before his tongue sank deep, opening her in a rare and wonderful pleasure.

  "Oh god," she whispered, her toes digging into his back. His tongue darted deeper and she cried out again—“Jesus!"

  He sucked at the firmness of her walls, first one side, and then the other, drawing noises from her she didn't know she could make. She was wet now from his saliva and her own cum, wet enough to drip on his desk when her feet cupped his shoulders—she nearly squatted against his face, fingers buried in his raven locks as he licked and sucked her desperate cunt. His tongue rolled her clit and she climaxed abruptly, her slit clenching around nothing, her growing belly tighter as she groaned.

  "Luthias...lord Christ..."

  She heard his deep chuckle, his hand squeezing her inner thigh.

  "Wrong lord," he muttered.

  He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his clawed hand as the other removed his belt; she felt before she saw how he bulged against the material, his member struggling to find room for its tremendous length. Though she had only just finished, her pussy dripped anew when he loosed his hard cock from the seam, rubbing the shaft briefly to free it of the impression left by the zipper. The desk was of such perfect height that he fit effortlessly between her thighs, her entrance teased open when he merely pressed closer to kiss her. Her slit squeezed against his head with anticipation, her emptiness seeming now unbearable.

  "Please," Elizabeth whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. "It's been so long..."

  Luthias grasped her hips, stepping a breath closer, his stiff head sinking slightly deeper. Her whimper was silenced by his kiss, which she shared eagerly. Her tongue tangled with his in shock when he suddenly stuffed her full, thrusting deep.

  "F-fuck me," she gasped.

  His nails dug into her hips as he thrust, harder, deeper, the cavern between her legs struggling to accommodate how much of him longed to squeeze inside. She gorged herself on him, forced to lean back and grip the back of his desk as she spread her legs far—she begged for more. She choked when his hand left her hip to grab her knee, spreading her wider as his cock swelled against her walls. He pulsed inside her, pounding her until her sweet spot gasped. Her slit trembled with delight, her throat emitting this long, uncontrolled moan. He rode her quivering walls until his own pleasure burst forth, and he had no choice but to loose himself from her quim.

  Aching, not wanting to leave more of a mess on his desk, Elizabeth found herself cupping her slit to keep the slosh of his seed inside her. Meanwhile, bothered now by his own spontaneity, Luthias was cramming his limp member back into his trousers. He wiped the lingering wetness of the hand that touched it on his sleeve, averting his eyes. Elizabeth laughed—she couldn't help it.

  "Is something funny?" Luthias asked, annoyed.

  "Us," she said, slowly lowering herself to stand. "We get carried away, don't we?"

  He looked at her a long moment, caught off guard. Then, he surprised her with a smile.

  "Yes. I suppose we do."

  Elizabeth stumbled a short distance away, sliding on her panties,
pulling on her dress. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him primping himself: buttoning his shirt, shaking out the few tangles in his long hair. Now freed of the burden of secrecy, Elizabeth softly cupped her swollen belly, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to admire the miracle happening within her. To her surprise, Luthias would soon join her. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his cheek in her hair as his hand covered hers. For the first time since returning to the palace, she felt at home.

  "I'll have a nursery prepared," he promised.

  She leaned back against him, watching the flames that danced in the fireplace.

  "How will we know if the baby is yours?" she asked.

  "There's always a family resemblance. When it's born, we'll know."

  "Isn't there a way to know sooner?"

  She felt him shake his head.

  "Not with our kind."

  Elizabeth squeezed his hand. Dread tightened her throat once more, but as Luthias' warmth enveloped her, its power lessened.

  "I'm afraid," she whispered.

  Gently, he kissed the top of her head.

  "I'm here."

  For now, that was all that needed to be said.

  Chapter 3: Secrets

  With Avery's threat now obsolete, life soon settled down for the expectant mother. She would return to sharing Luthias' room, finding that he was more attentive now than he had ever been. He made good on his word: a nursery was constructed in a spare room walking distance from his own, although she overheard his advisor Ezekial recommending that he keep the nursery on a separate floor. Apparently, keeping the baby close would mean that his enemies would see the child as an exploitable weakness. Luthias insisted on its placement regardless, and Elizabeth’s love grew all the more when she glimpsed him changing his route to his meetings in order to pass the room, checking on its progress.

  Avery returned to avoiding Elizabeth, though she could feel that his resentment towards her had taken on a darker hue. She tried to ignore this.

  Although things were calmer now, she wasn’t entirely freed from her problems—particularly, the persistence of Emilie’s voice. Sometimes Elizabeth would go days without hearing it, lulling her to believe that she had imagined it all along. Then, a conversation with Kieran or a castle worker would spark vivid dreams of another time, with Emilie and Luthias struggling against one another in violence, lust, cruelty, and passion. After this, Emilie’s presence would return full force, mocking her for each curtsy, each passive acceptance of Luthias’ requests, even for the modest clothes she wore to hide her changing figure.

  Luthias was aware of her hallucinations, but he was more than reluctant to speak about it openly. He seemed of the mind that if a problem was buried long enough, it would cease to be a problem. Elizabeth, having endured life with similar sentiments, followed his lead.

  As Elizabeth grew bigger, Luthias became suddenly more protective. The lord placed ever more restrictions on her life: She was never to be outside alone, never to walk up more than one flight of stairs by herself, and she was to eat at least four meals a day. The last rule she protested the most, horrified enough by how much weight she was packing onto her once-slender frame, but Luthias insisted that it was better to eat more than less where Canine children were concerned.

  Though still slim for how pregnant she was, she hardly recognized herself at the seven-month mark. Her thighs and arms had thickened, ass far rounder, as if softened by the need to cushion the basketball that had once been her flat stomach. Each breast must have been half the size of her belly, squeezed together in a shapeless bra that supported them enough to keep them from aching—it was so tight now that she hoped they would be discouraged enough by the lack of space to finally stop swelling. Uncomfortable in her own skin, she found it difficult to sit and focus during her tutors' lessons, prescribed during the hours Luthias had to see to his subjects. For Luthias' sake, she tried to suffer her education.

  A young man named Nevan was tasked with teaching her the history of Canine nobility. She assumed he was young, but she found it was next to impossible to determine how old anyone was in the castle. He wasn't quite handsome, with a hooked nose and lips pressed thin by anxiety, but like all Canines he was tall and of an impressive build. A family tree was spread out across the table. Nevan made broad gesture across it as he spoke. Elizabeth couldn't focus on what he was saying, unfortunately. She felt a terrible pressure in her gut, which usually meant her child was about to subject her to the latest of its growth spurts, an unpleasant phenomenon she didn't want to suffer in front of her teacher. Nothing could be done except careful breathing, meant to postpone the inevitable.

  "Our Lord Ultan took a mate in his 200th year of reign, but she never bore children. The Cennasaí title would be passed down his mistress' son, Alois, the great-grandfather of Lord Luthias. You remember Alois' son's name?"

  Elizabeth exhaled, focusing on her hand as it pressed slightly between her thigh and the underside of her belly. It took a moment to realize Nevan had asked a question.

  "I'm sorry?"

  "Can you remember the name of Lord Luthias' grandfather?" Nevan asked.

  "Ah..."

  She cringed, pressing a hand to her temple.

  "Was it...Cadogan?"

  "That is—correct," he said, surprised. "I don't know why I doubted you, Ms. Elizabeth."

  She smiled weakly, letting him continue. Even so, her thoughts wandered, despite the brimming pressure in her stomach. As her eyes drifted across the family tree, she noticed something odd about Luthias’ entry. There was a line between him and a woman that indicated matehood, but it wasn't Emilie's name he was tied to. Instead, there was "Miyako."

  "When you say mate, is that like marriage?" she asked, thinking perhaps she misunderstood.

  “It is similar,” he admitted. "But a human marriage is largely symbolic. When demons mate, the female is consenting to a union with the male that will permanently mark her person with his scent—or claim, if you will. When a woman has been claimed, she can never be unclaimed, though there are rumors that a claim can be overwritten by male of higher pedigree.”

  "That sounds...primal."

  "I suppose it must, if you were raised by humans. It's just how things work. Now, Alois actually had three mates over the course of his reign..."

  Elizabeth did her best to listen, but just then she felt the skin around her bellybutton tighten, the active baby within her stilled as that horrible pressure welled. Though she tried to stop it, a moan escaped her as her belly suddenly swelled another inch on all sides. It turned out her dress was at capacity; she paled with horror when she heard the seam down her back rip open.

  Nevan was staring at her, bewildered. She felt like a freak.

  "I...um..." She stood from her chair, grabbing her coat off the back to wrap around her shoulders. "I think I'll...leave early," she muttered.

  "By all means," he said, always polite.

  Quickly, she excused herself. She didn't know where she would go, since she wasn't tired enough to nap and she certainly wasn't hungry enough to eat, but putting distance between herself and her tutor was enough of a goal. After just a few paces, she knew she had to at least change her dress--she felt the hole widen beneath her jacket as mere breathing strained her swollen breasts and stomach against the seams. The doctors warned her that the baby might come sooner than expected; at times like this, she hoped they were right.

  As she made her way back to her chambers, she found herself dwelling on what she had seen in the records: Luthias and his mysterious mate, Miyako. She had never heard any mention of another woman, not from Luthias, Avery, or even Kieran. Maybe Miyako was someone Luthias had been with after Emilie—but that didn't seem right, since everyone attested that he had been alone since Emilie died—though it was possible that she had been someone in his life long before. He was old, she knew. How old though...she realized she had never even asked.

  She was surprised to come upon Luthias in the hall, loung
ing on the wide ledge of a stained-glass window in a manner more befitting Kieran than himself. He held his forehead in his hand, apparently frustrated—but there was something sexy about this brooding look. Though she knew it was just her hormones on edge after the child's spurt, she found herself needlessly aroused, wet with the thought of him whipping out his cock and fucking her against the window.

  Too soon, he realized she was there. He sat up, startled.

  "Elizabeth."

  She blushed, embarrassed to have interrupted his private moment and of how far her thoughts had gotten away from her. Before she could apologize, he calmed, moving aside to allow space on the ledge.

  "Sit."

  It wasn't to talk, she knew. He didn't like her standing for long periods of time. With a sigh, she joined him, carefully lowering herself until her ass hit the concrete and she could lean against the glass. She hated how clumsy she had become.

  "I don't want to see Nevan for a while," she murmured.

  Luthias slid his arm around her waist, tucking her against his body.

  "Why?" he asked.

  "Just...because."

  He didn't pry. As his hand gently caressed her side, she relaxed, feeling that maybe life wasn't as difficult as she had thought.

  "How old are you?" she asked, remembering her curiosity.

  Luthias hesitated.

  "I believe...four-hundred and seven," he said.

  She balked at this number. He had been alive during the end of monarchy in Europe, was old enough to have seen America as British colony, the discovery of electricity, penicillin, wars before and after firearms—he had lived countless lifetimes. Her twenty-two years must have been meaningless in his eyes.

  "When did you meet Miyako?" she asked.

  All at once, he tensed. His face was vacant, withholding some feeling too terrible to express.

  "How do you know that name?"

  "She was listed as your mate," she explained, worried that she had upset him. "I assumed it was from a long time ago..."