Billionaire's Baby Contract (Hawthorne Brothers 1)

Ethan’s lips hover right outside my ear. “Don’t you think you’re beautiful?”

I blush even more. Beautiful? He’s called me that before, but I still can’t get myself used to it. Yes, I pay attention to how I look. I always try to look my best. I spend a considerable time in front of the mirror. I invest in premium quality makeup and I take care of my skin and teeth. But I’m not vain. I doll myself up because it makes me feel more confident and more professional, not because I’m trying to impress or attract anyone. Does that make me beautiful?

“I think you are,” Ethan tells me as his hands tighten around my breasts. Then he presses a kiss against my neck. “And you know what else I think?”

I don’t answer.

“I think I don’t want anyone else looking at you and thinking it.”

My eyebrows furrow. What?

Before I can make sense of his statement, I feel his lips on my shoulder again. This time, he doesn’t just leave a kiss. He sucks. So hard that I let out a whimper and begin to worry that my skin might break. He stops before it does, but I see the bruise he left behind.

What the hell?

I’m about to chastise him but he kisses the mark reverently while meeting my gaze through the mirror. I see the tenderness in his eyes and fall speechless.

Ethan turns my head towards him and looks into my eyes before kissing my lips next. He licks them gently as he starts to play with my nipple. I shiver.

His tongue slips inside my mouth and he kisses me deeply. I moan. He pulls away and presses his cheek against mine. Our eyes meet in the mirror once more.

My gaze drops to his hands as his fingers rub my nipples. As much as I don’t want to watch what he’s doing to me, I can’t seem to help it. And as much as I don’t like to admit it, watching adds to the pleasure. My breath comes in gasps. My knees tremble. And the more I watch, the more the pleasure intensifies. It’s addicting, actually.

This is dangerous. Ethan is turning me into someone I never knew existed.

His hands abandon my breasts and descend to my stomach, but they don’t stop there. They move lower, gripping my hips. One of them slips beneath my lace panties and moves to the front, approaching that part of my body that has been aching for Ethan’s touch since he first placed his mouth on mine. It’s burning now. Weeping.

As soon as Ethan’s fingertips brush against my sensitive other pair of lips, my knees buckle. A soft cry escapes my throat.

I’m about to lean against Ethan but he suddenly pulls his hand away. He pushes my drenched panties down to my knees and they fall to the floor. I kick them aside.

As soon as I’ve done that, Ethan pushes me forward. I place my hands on top of the desk to keep myself from crashing.

He plants kisses on my back. I brace myself for what’s coming. I expect his fingers to enter me. I want them to. Instead, I feel his tongue. His wet, warm, wicked tongue. My knees quiver. My hands curl into fists. My eyelids fall shut as I suck in a deep breath.

Ethan licked me down there before. Last night, to be precise. But this is different. Now that he’s kneeling behind me, that his tongue is entering me from behind, it feels more strange. More shameful. His fingers spread me open and I feel more exposed. But I can’t bring myself to ask him to stop. All I can do is moan and tremble and try not to collapse as I lose my mind.

When his finger enters me, I fall forward on my elbows on top of the desk. He slips in another and I give a loud gasp. My eyes open wide.

I find myself staring at my flushed face. My hair is a mess, the strands scattered everywhere with some stuck to my cheeks. Tears bead at the corners of my eyes.

Is that really… me?

Ethan starts to move his fingers and my eyes close again. He reaches in front of me to tease my nub and I let out a cry. He’s using both hands now, stimulating the most sensitive part of me from both the front and the back. My hips shake. My toes dig into the carpet. My fingernails scrape the desk as heat and excitement mingle in my veins.

Frankly, I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

Just when I feel like I can’t take anymore, Ethan stops. His fingers withdraw. I use my tired arms as a cushion as I collapse on top of the desk. My chest heaves as I try to catch my breath.