Possessive Baby Daddy

by Hamel, B. B.

  “Tell me you’re mine,” he whispers. “Tell me every inch of your delicious body is mine.”

  “I’m yours,” I moan. “Oh, god, I’m yours.”

  “That’s right. Every inch of your delicious, tight little body.” He growls the words before stepping back.

  I turn and stare at him as he takes off his shirt. He’s so muscular and gorgeous. I step forward and kiss his chest and begin to take off his belt. I pull down his jeans and slide my hand down the front of his boxer briefs.

  His cock is hard already. I stroke him until he stiffens even more in my palm. He grabs my hair and kisses me as I get his pants and his boxer briefs off. He pulls my shirt up over my head and kisses my chest before taking off my bra.

  We’re naked on his balcony, and god, it drives me wild. I know there’s nobody else around here, but it’s so dirty, so filthy. He gets hard in my hand as I drop to my knees and take him between my legs.

  He grabs my hair as I suck him. He pushes me down deep and I groan before pulling back, stroking his thick cock with both hands. He leans forward and kisses me before pulling me up to my feet

  I love it. I love the way he pulls me around, pushes me against the balcony, spreads my ass and spanks me. I moan as he pulls my wrist behind my back and pins me there before sliding his cock deep between my legs. I gasp and throw my head back, moaning his name as his cock fills me to the brim. I wiggle my hips and push back against him, wanting more and he gives me what I want.

  He strokes into me hard, taking me rough and deep. I gasp out his name, moaning, working my hips in slow rhythmic motions as he fucks me deep. He growls back and spanks me hard, my body pinned and controlled.

  Pleasure works its way all along my spine. There’s only pleasure, only him, as his cock strokes in and out of me. He takes me deep and rough and spreads me wide, making me gasp, making me moan. He pushes my buttons and all my edges, and gives me more pleasure than I ever thought possible.

  He spanks me hard and fucks me rough. He takes me like an animal, his hands teasing my breasts, teasing my nipples. He fucks me hard and deep, spanking against my body in rough, rhythmic surges. I gasp out his name and moan over and over as he fucks me harder, an animal claiming his prize.

  He growls and pulls me away from the balcony. He tumbles back into the bench along the side of the house. I straddle him, my knees on the cushioned seat. I arch my back as he licks my breasts and sucks my nipples, making them hard. I ease back along his shaft, sliding along his length and shivering with pleasure.

  I kiss him hard, tasting his tongue, as he fills me to the brim. I can’t take him all, can’t fit every inch of him, but god, I try. I start to ride him as he slaps my ass and pulls my hair. He pulls it hard, spanking me, making me ride him faster and faster. I work my hips and keep going, up and down his length, moaning and shaking with pleasure. I lean forward and bite his shoulder as he fucks me, thrusting with my hips, matching my rhythm and forcing me past my comfort zone, into something better, more intense.

  He bites my lower lip, pulls my hair, licks my nipples. His hands are all over my body, his eyes drink me in. He looks at me like I’m a goddess, like my body was built for him, like it’s the most perfect thing he’s ever seen. It drives me wild, the look in his eyes, and I keep going, riding faster, pushing down harder, gasping and moaning.

  “I’m so close,” I whisper, leaning forward. I bite his shoulder again as he fucks me faster. “Please, Shaun. I want to come. Oh, god, please.”

  “You want to come on my thick cock,” he growls, grabbing my hair, making me look at him. I nod and gasp, shivering, shaking with delight. He kisses me and reaches down between my legs. He rubs my clit and I moan, losing it completely. I lean back, my hands on his knees, and start to roll my hips as his fingers rub my clit.

  “Yes,” I gasp. “Oh, fuck, yes,” I moan. “Don’t stop.”

  He keeps going and I keep moving, the pleasure mounting, building. I roll my hips and he works my clit and god, god yes, it feels like heaven, like something beyond heaven.

  I lean forward and push down hard as my orgasm steals through me. He kisses me and I moan into his kiss as I come. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, he fucks me and takes me as I orgasm all over his thick cock.

  When I finally finish, he pulls me off. His cock is rock hard, glistening with my cum, and he gets me down on my knees. I lick him top to bottom, cleaning his massive, hard shaft off. I lick him and suck him fast as he grabs my hair and holds it tight. His cock is so hard and I can’t help but moan in time to his pleased groans.

  “Keep going,” he growls. “I want you to swallow me, darling. Show me how devoted you are to me.”

  I moan and don’t stop. I stroke him with both hands, sucking his tip, and he pushes me down. I feel him come in my mouth, come in deep, thick spurts. I swallow every drop, every single drop, and when I’m finished, I lick him off and make sure he’s nice and clean.

  He growls his pleasure and pulls me up into his lap. I curl up there, grinning like a moron.

  When I’m in front of a room full of powerful men, I can let myself be strong. I can be a powerful woman, running a meeting, getting investors together.

  But when I’m on my knees in front of my man’s cock, I’m something else completely.

  I let him take me. I let him give me what I want… and what I need.

  And god, it feels so, so good.

  He kisses my lips and holds me tight. “That was good,” he says. “So fucking good.”

  “God, yeah.” I nuzzle against him, eyes shut. “I could sleep right here, you know.”

  “Go ahead.” He chuckles. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

  I laugh and smile but I keep my eyes shut.

  I don’t know how long we stay like that. I feel like I’m floating in the ocean, like everything’s perfect and nothing matters. I’m warm and content, and I don’t want to move a muscle.

  Distantly, I hear his phone ringing. I look up at him. “Go ahead,” I murmur.

  “You sure?”

  “Go get it.”

  He puts me down on the bench. I lean back against it with a sigh, not bothering to put on clothes. He gets up, still naked, and finds his phone in his pocket. He takes it out and answers.

  “Hello?”

  I watch him through narrowed eyes. His face slowly falls, turns ashen.

  “When?” he asks.

  I sit up straight, staring. He listens as I get up and find my clothes. “Shit,” I whisper. “Panties.” I look over the balcony and there they are, sitting on the sand below. I pull on my jeans with a frown as he says something else into the phone. When I’m dressed, he hangs up and looks at me.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

  “You look… upset.”

  “I’m not.” He takes a breath. “It’s nothing.”

  “Come on, just tell me.” I laugh a little. “After what we just did?”

  He smiles and walks over. He’s still naked and completely at ease with his body.

  And he should be. The man is chiseled and gorgeous.

  “Look, it’s just…” He tilts his head. “You’re dressed.”

  “I am.”

  “I don’t recall telling you that you could put your clothes back on.”

  I smile at him. “Too bad.”

  He walks over and grabs my hair. I gasp as he kisses me. “Next time, you wait for permission,” he whispers.

  I bite my lip and nod once.

  “Good,” he says, and lets me go. He puts on his underwear and his jeans, but doesn’t bother with the shirt. He walks over and pours a new glass of wine and downs half of it.

  “That bad?” I ask. I sit on the bench and put my knees up to my chest.

  He shakes his head. “My mother’s coming to town.”

  I sit up straight. “Uh, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all.” He stares out at the ocean.

  “
I know your mom’s intense, but—”

  “Trust me, Klara,” he says. “She’s only going to complicate things.”

  “Why? You can have a visit with her. You don’t have to tell her about any of this.”

  He shakes his head. “Even if I don’t, she’ll find out. You don’t understand how connected she is.”

  “I can help then. Let me meet her.”

  He looks at me and laughs. “Fuck, no.”

  “Oh, come on. You think I’ll embarrass you?”

  “Not at all,” he says. “I think my mother will like you. But I also think she’ll push and pry and make things more fucked up.”

  “Why are you so afraid of her?”

  He tenses. “I’m not afraid.”

  “Then let me meet her.”

  “No.”

  “Shaun.” I stand up. “You walk about wanting to marry me and about wanting to take care of me. But you can’t even let me meet your mother. You see how that might look bad, right?”

  He looks back at me and I can see the struggle clear on his face. “You don’t understand.”

  “Yes, I do. You have a parent you’re afraid of… or maybe you’re embarrassed, or just worried she’ll do something that’ll make your life harder. I understand all of that. I live that every single day.”

  He lets out a breath. “You’re right.”

  “I know.” I grin at him. “I always am.”

  “Come here.”

  I walk over and he puts is arms around me. “So I can meet her?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says. “But prepare yourself.”

  “How?”

  He hesitates. “I have no clue,” he says, and we both laugh.

  I let him hold me like that. I’m going to meet his mother, which means things are getting real.

  I’m not sure I like real.

  But I’m going to accept it. Because real is better than what I’ve been doing, which is denying everything around me and hoping it would go away.

  I’m pregnant. I’m having this baby.

  And Shaun’s going to be in my life if that happens.

  It’s time to accept it, embrace it… and reap the rewards.

  The chief reward being this muscular, incredible man giving me what I need.

  I get on my toes and kiss him. He returns that kiss.

  “Sleepover?” he whispers.

  “Getting ahead of yourself.”

  He laughs. “I just licked your pussy from behind out on my balcony. I don’t think it’s too forward to expect you to sleep in my bed tonight.”

  I blush and hit his chest then kiss him again. “Fine. Asshole.”

  “Good girl. I love when you give in.”

  “I bet you do.”

  We kiss again and I feel that old fear come back, but it’s overwhelmed by desire.

  16

  Shaun

  Two glorious days pass. I spend as much time as possible with Klara, mostly in bed.

  Sometimes, when she slips out from under the covers and walks away, I stare at her gorgeous, tight body and wonder how the fuck I got so lucky.

  I don’t think she understands half of what she does to me.

  If she did, she’d know that I’m hers to use whenever she wants, however she wants. I’ll give her anything, buy her anything, use my power to make anything happen. I’m hers, and she’s mine just as much.

  But the idea of her meeting my fucking mother drives me insane with anxiety.

  I’ve had other girls in the past. I can’t pretend like I’ve been a saint up until the point that I met Klara. But none of those women did anything like this to me, and I never once considered letting Sylvia Lofthouse meet them. I know my mother, and I know she will instantly start looking for any advantage, any weakness she can.

  That’s just how her mind works. It’s why she’s so good at running our family. It’s why we’re at the peak of our strength, despite being around for so long. Sylvia Lofthouse saved this family and made it what it is today.

  But that also makes her a terrible mother.

  I don’t say that lightly. She was not a nice person. We were raised by a series of nannies, some of which disappeared, and I suspect that my father was sleeping with them until mother found out. I can’t prove that, of course, but it’s an educated guess at least.

  That’s the sort of woman my mother is. She finds out her husband’s cheating and she just fires the maid. She didn’t make a scene, didn’t divorce him. I’m willing to bet she used it against him somehow, did something much more devious. I’m willing to bet he wished she divorced him when she was through.

  And god, letting her meet Klara scares the shit out of me.

  It’s a sunny Friday afternoon when I pick Sylvia up at the airport. She flew private, so I can park at the private terminal, which is basically right on the tarmac. She walks over wearing her tasteful designer clothes, pulling a small designer bag, and frowns as I get out.

  “You drove?” she asks.

  “I drove,” I say.

  “You should use a service, darling.”

  I grab her bag and throw it in the trunk. I slam it shut and open the door for her. She climbs into the back.

  I sit up front like a chauffeur. “I could use a service, Mother, but I thought this would give us a chance to talk.”

  She sighs and looks out the window. “I suppose.”

  Sylvia Lofthouse is a pretty women, even in her sixties. She’s thin and has short, light brown age-appropriate hair. Everything about her is appropriate, measured, and controlled.

  “How was the flight?”

  “Boring,” she says. “Roger kept talking my ear off.”

  “You brought Roger?”

  She nods, watching the road out the back window. “He has business for us out here.”

  “What business?” I frown and look at her in the rearview. Roger is the family lawyer. “If you’re doing business on the West Coast, you should run it through me.”

  “Oh, I suppose, but aren’t you busy buying up trashy television studios?”

  “Yes, mother, and a few pornography companies as well.”

  She sighs. “I know you’re just trying to antagonize me.”

  “Oh, no, the porn industry is booming.”

  She smiles. “Well then, I suppose we should get involved.”

  I laugh and shake my head. “You really will do whatever you can for the family, won’t you?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” she says. “But dear, power and influence are one thing, but you need money to back it all up. Money made us what we are, and money will sustain us. I’m not so foolish that I’d turn away from a good deal.”

  “I like to hear you say that, mother,” I say. “Because I’m introducing you to someone.”

  “Oh?” she asks, sounding bored again. “One of your little ventures?”

  “No.” I hesitate. “A woman.”

  She laughs but doesn’t say anything. I scowl back at her.

  “What?” I press.

  “Nothing, darling.”

  “Say it.”

  “Do you really want me to?”

  “Just say it, Mother.”

  “Fine.” She arches an eyebrow at me. “I’m surprised you’d want me to meet a woman you’re seeing, based on your past experience.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You have bad taste in women, darling.”

  I clench my jaw. I knew that’s what she was going to say, but hearing it out loud still pisses me off.

  She’s not entirely wrong. In my youth, I was attracted to a certain kind of woman. They tended to be young, attractive, and very, very sexual. That didn’t necessarily add up to the kind of woman my mother would approve of. I learned very quickly that I had to keep any woman I was seeing regularly away from my family, as far as humanly possible.

  But Klara’s different. I know she is and my mother’s going to see that too.

  “Keep an open mind,” I say.


  “Oh, I always try to.”

  “No, you don’t.” I shake my head. “You’re judgmental, Mother. You’re quick to hate things that don’t fit into your worldview. But in this instance, please keep in mind that this particular woman makes your son very happy.”

  She looks surprised and laughs. “Is this serious, Shauny?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Well then. I look forward to meeting her.”

  I frown. “Really?”

  “Really. I’m not a monster, after all.”

  I snort but say nothing. She gives me a look and turns back to the window. We drive on in silence for a little while before I can’t take it anymore.

  “Why are you here?” I blurt the question out before laying out groundwork.

  Mother closes her eyes. “Can we not talk about that?”

  “You call out of the blue and fly out here suddenly without so much as a real explanation. What are you doing here, Mother? If you’re here to check up on me, I’m telling you, I’m fine.”

  “That’s not it,” she says. “It’s just business.”

  “What’s so important that you’d come out here yourself?”

  She frowns. “Dear, it’s nothing.”

  “Mom.” The car comes to a stop in traffic. “Can we stop with the bullshit for once?”

  She looks at me, frowning at my language. “You want the truth?” she asks.

  “Tell me,” I say.

  “I’m here to get reconstructive surgery on my chest.”

  I turn around to stare at her in shock. “Wait, what?”

  “Six months ago, I got a double mastectomy. Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

  “You did what?”

  The car ahead of me in traffic moves and the car behind honks. I pull forward and jerk to a stop again before turning back to stare at her.

  “Darling, pay attention to the road.”

  “You got a mastectomy. You had cancer?”

  “Yes, dear,” she says. “And I’m fine now, thanks for asking.”

  “What… how… how did I not now?”

  “Nobody knew.” She says the words so plainly and shrugs. “I didn’t tell your father, either, if that helps. He thinks I’m out here buying a hotel.”