Page 46 of The Billionaire's Baby

"How about I make you come instead?"

He glances up at me, then shakes his head, "You don’t get to call the shots, sweetheart. Have you forgotten that?"

"It was simply a suggestion." I flutter my eyelashes at him, and his breathing speeds up. Oh, this could be fun, after all. I slide my fingers down to strum my pussy lips and he tracks my movements. I part my legs, slide my fingers inside my cunt and a fat drop of cum trickles down my inner thigh. He licks his lips, lowers his head and slurps it up.

Goosebumps pop on my skin. Bloody hell, did he just do that? The carnal nature of this man overpowers all other aspects of him. Perhaps, I had underestimated him, huh? Perhaps he’s not as easy to control as I’d thought, after all? Had I been wrong in that spontaneous suggestion that he become my sperm donor? I try to slide back, but he places his big palms on either side of my hips and holds me in place.

"Don’t move," he commands.

And simply because he said that, because he asked me to obey him, again, I shuffle back. His grasp tightens, his fingertips digging into my hipbones with enough pressure that I yelp.

He glances up. "Shh," he admonishes me. "Watch me as I eat out your pussy."

That’s when a loud beeping sound cuts through the silence.

16

Arpad

The beeping sound cuts through the lust-filled haze in my head. I freeze.

Her gaze widens. "What’s that?" she asks as it dies out.

I rise to my feet. My heart begins to race, but I school all emotion from my face. "Get dressed," I order.

"What?" She folds her arms in front of her. Her beautiful tits thrust out as she draws herself up to her full height… Which still means she only comes to the level of my chest. "Don’t tell me what to do."

"This is not a drill, babe," I growl. "Wear your clothes, and your boots."

"I don’t have any, remember?"

Well, crap. Of course, she doesn’t. "Follow me." I turn around and stalk to the door. I pause and glare at her over my shoulder, "You coming, or what?"

The beeping starts again. "Suit yourself, but don’t blame me if you’re caught out in the open sea without any clothes on."

"What?" The color drains from her face. "What do you mean?"

I draw in a breath, force myself to calm down. "Nothing." I jerk my chin, "Just put on some clothes and come to the cabin."

"No," she crosses over to me, and grabs my arm, "don’t treat me like a stupid female who needs to be mollycoddled. I’ve been running my company since I was eighteen. I’ve seen lots of hostile takeovers, employees who tried to ruin my company by stealing from me… You name it, I’ve faced it and emerged unscathed—"

"But have you faced the fury of Mother Nature?"

She blinks. "What?"

"That’s a storm warning." The beeping ratchets up in intensity. "Shit." I turn and hurry into the room. Pulling on boots, and a sweatshirt, I head for the closet door at the far end. I grab hold of a handful of clothes, then a pair of shoes and throw it on the bed. "Help yourself," I tell her.

She walks over to the clothes, picks up the jeans and the sweatshirt. "They’re your size," she says accusingly.

"That's because they’re my clothes. Sorry they don’t fit your sense of style," I growl.

She hesitates.

"It's either that or you go without clothes," I point out.

The beeping increases in pitch, and she jumps. I head out the door, and to the closet in the living room with the survival gear. I grab a life jacket shrug into it, then turn to find she’s right behind me. She's rolled up the legs of the jeans almost in half so I can see the over-sized boots, and the sweatshirt cloaks her like a tent, but at least, she's covered—in my clothes. A hot sensation coils in my stomach.

I slap the other life jacket to her chest. "Wear it," I command.