Billionaire Boss's Unexpected Child
“Is this your mother?”
“Yes. This was the first portrait I ever painted. I kept it to remind myself of where I came from.”
I look up at him, and our eyes meet. I swear it’s almost impossible to breathe, seeing that look in his eyes, and I can’t look away.
Hell, I don’t want to look away. He slowly lowers his lips to mine, as if he’s giving me a chance to run if I want to. But that’s the last thing I want, and the second his li
ps meet mine, it’s like being caught up in a storm—dizzying, electrifying, with more than a little sense of the fact that I’m doing something dangerous, something I should know better to resist.
He pulls me toward him, pressing my body up against his, and the feel of his hard, big body against mine has me on the verge of losing my mind. He buries his hands in my hair and tilts my head, controlling the angle, the depth of our kiss. He kisses me with hunger and possessiveness, which has me practically on the verge of an orgasm. When he sweeps his tongue over my lips, I open for him, and then his tongue is tasting me, darting into my mouth, invading me in a way that has me wishing with all my might that his tongue won’t be the only part of his body I’ll have inside of me.
He lowers his hands to my neck, resting them around my throat, and the sensation of his big, strong hands on the sensitive skin causes me to release a helpless little moan.
He’s using his body to back me up, maneuvering me, and a moment later, the backs of my thighs hit the arm of the chaise lounge in the center of the room.
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Poppy?” he murmurs against my mouth, and I moan again. “I need to hear the words, darling.”
“Yes. I do,” I whisper. “But there’s something you need to know first.”
He lets out a low, dangerous laugh, and then his hands are trailing heat down my shoulders, down my chest, until he reaches my breasts and cups them. I cry out at the overwhelming sensation. I’ve fantasized about him touching me, wondered what it would be like to have his hands on my body this way. He cups my breasts firmly, weighing them in his hands, massaging them, and I thrust my chest toward him, needing more. In the next instant, he’s unbuttoning my blouse. He pushes it off my shoulders, and it falls onto the chaise behind me.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs, and I press my thighs together, needing some form of relief from the way I need him. He reaches up and unclasps the front of my bra, and my breasts spill free. He makes a low, appreciative growling sound deep in his throat, and I can tell from the look in his eyes that he’s barely hanging onto control. He pushes my bra down my arms, and it joins my blouse on the chaise.
The second he cups my bare breasts, I cry out. It’s almost too much. Too intense. Too damn good. His thumbs flick at my nipples, over and over again, and I let my head fall back, thrusting my breasts closer to him. I feel his hands at my waist, and then he’s pushing my skirt down.
“Nathaniel, wait,” I tell him, stopping him before he can do the same with my panties.
His eyes find mine again, curiosity tracing across his brows. “What is it, Poppy? Am I going too fast for you?”
I shake my head, the heat rising to my cheeks now due to embarrassment rather than pleasure. “I’m…”
Just say it, Poppy. Rip off the Band-Aid.
“Yes?” Nathaniel prompts, the frown on his face deepening.
“This is kinda… going to be my first time.”
At first, he just stares at me as if he’s not sure he’s heard me right. Then, he laughs. “Oh, I see. Sure, we can roleplay.”
Oh no, things just got ten times more awkward. He thinks I want to play a sex game.
“No, Nathaniel. This isn’t a game—I really am a virgin.”
He backs away from me a little but doesn’t break my gaze. “Wow, you are serious?”
I nod and swallow the lump that’s risen in my throat. “But I want to do this. It’s definitely time I… matured… in that way.”
His jaw flexes as he lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, Poppy. This might cause a lot of—”
I cut him off and reach over to cup his face in my hands. “Please. I want you to be the one who does it—someone mature, intelligent, and artistic. Please?”
After what feels like an eternity, but could’ve only been a minute at most, Nathaniel finally speaks again. “Leave your shoes on,” he says, with a devilish grin. “I’ve been picturing myself fucking you while you wore nothing but those all day.”
I freeze. “Y-you have?” I manage.
“Just one of many fantasies, Poppy.”
I try to think of something to say, but totally lose my train of thought when he pushes me back onto the lounge and bends his head down to resume touching me. He slides my panties down to where my skirt is pooled around my feet, and I quickly kick both garments aside. He claims one tender, aching nipple with his mouth. He gives it one long, hard suck, and I cry out again, thrashing my head, almost unable to take how intense the sensation is; the perfect mix of pleasure and pain.