Accidental Daddy: A Billionaire's Baby Romance

by R. R. Banks

  I take him deeper into my mouth, inch by glorious inch, until he's touching the back of my throat. I try hard not to gag, but it isn't easy with a man as large as him. Using my hand, I make up the difference and stroke him while I move my head up and down on his shaft, glancing upward at my sexy man as I suck his cock.

  His head is thrown back at first, but then he looks down at me and that look – the look of a man who's in love with you and desires you more than anyone else in the world – is painted upon his face. And it's a look that is amazingly hot. I cup his balls in my free hand, sucking him harder, teasing him until he cries out.

  “Fuck, Abby. I need you to stop or else –”

  I don't want to stop, though. I want to keep sucking him until his come fills my mouth.

  Caleb, however, has other plans. Pulling my hair nice and firmly, he yanks my head back away from him and then pushes me down on the bed. He pulls my pants down and yanks my body to the edge of the mattress, then drops to his knees in front of me. All without saying a word.

  His tongue lashes out at my clit, taunting and teasing me, causing me to squirm on the bed. His tongue splits my lips, sliding upward until he's at my clit once more.

  “Please, Caleb,” I say, arching my body upward, yearning to feel his mouth on my pussy.

  With a devious grin, he goes to town, sucking and licking me, fucking me with his tongue as well as his fingers. Damn. He is so good with his mouth that I scream out in pleasure. Too good. All those years I went without orgasm, and here I was, already on the verge of coming from him using his mouth alone.

  I grab his head, pushing his tongue deeper inside of me, as I writhe on the bed. The orgasm hits me hard and fast, taking me by surprise. I scream out his name over and over again, “Caleb, yes, Caleb... Oh God.”

  My entire body is spasming, and I feel like I'm in heaven. Never before has a man brought me such pleasure. I'd been so tightly controlled that I never let myself experience the amazing pleasure of sex. And now, Caleb makes making me get off easy look easy. He can make me come over and over again, several times in a row, all while making it seem like it's nothing.

  And this time is no exception. Wave after wave of intense pleasure moves through my body as he eats my pussy. I wrap my legs around his head, locking him in place as I grab onto the bedding around me.

  “Caleb, please – make love to me,” I beg.

  Caleb stops what he's doing, and for a moment, I assume he's going to climb on top of me. But with a mischievous look in his eye, he pulls me to the end of the bed and flips me around so I'm face down.

  With his hand in my hair, he pulls my head back and presses his cock against my opening. Wiggling my ass, I try to take him inside of me, but he gives my hair another pull to show me who's in control here. He guides himself into my pussy, pressing between my lips and sliding inside of me. We both groan as our bodies unite, becoming one. I take him inside of me, writhing in pleasure, grabbing onto the bedding for dear life as he fucks me from behind.

  Caleb moves inside of me in a way that drives me crazy from the start. His hips grind into me, going deeper and deeper with each thrust, stretching me open and filling me up until I can't possibly take anymore. His hands hold my ass in place, his nails dig into my flesh as he grips me tight.

  I thrust back, taking him deeper and deeper inside of me. He's fucking me in a nice, steady rhythm and it feels amazing. I look back at him over my shoulder and give him a devious little grin. I cry out as he buries his cock particularly deep in one long thrust.

  I can feel the pressure building up low within me again and I shudder with anticipation of my next orgasm. I can't get enough of them now that I've had one.

  His cock is sliding in and out of me, his pace quickening as much as his breathing. I can tell he's getting closer by the sound of his grunts and moans. He grips my hip hard, his fingers digging into my skin as he pounds himself deep inside of me.

  I feel my own pulse firing rapidly, my heart thundering like I just ran a marathon. And the pressure is building low within me.

  “Yes, Caleb,” I moan.

  “You feel so good, Abby,” he says.

  His moaning is growing louder and more insistent as he pounds himself into me. I know he's on the brink. Just as I am. I arch my back and press myself backward, tightening up the muscles inside of me so I can grip his cock as he fucks me. The added tightness must agree with him because Caleb moans loud and clear.

  I feel my body start to quiver and the pressure – which had been a slow burn – is suddenly a raging inferno. My body is tingling and my heart is stuttering in my chest. I see Caleb throw his head back and moan loudly. I feel his come spurting deep within me, filling me up with his hot seed.

  The sensation of his seed shooting deep inside of me pushes me over the edge. I cry out, screaming his name as my own body lets loose. I shudder, tremble and moan as my orgasm tears through me. My breathing is ragged, but the waves of sensation are intense. As we both come together, the pleasure is beyond amazing. It's overwhelming.

  Eventually, we catch our breath and stop shaking. We're laying on the bed, our bodies intertwined. I look over at him and smile.

  “Good thing you have another uniform, Officer Tirico,” I tease, kissing him on the tip of his nose. “Because this one just got dirty.”

  “Mmm, but it was worth it,” he says, pulling me close.

  “Yes, yes it was.”

  I will never, ever grow tired of climaxing multiple times during a lovemaking session. Only Caleb seems to have the power to do that to me. Thinking back to just a few months ago, I never would have imagined I'd enjoy sex this much.

  Especially thinking back to James, where everything was so boring, routine, and by the numbers. James would have never been able to conceive of the midday quickie Caleb and I had just enjoyed. Pity for him.

  With Caleb, nothing is ever boring. He likes to take me every which way he can – and everywhere he can. We've done it on the kitchen table, in the living room – hell we've even had a very, very hot time out on our back patio. We've managed to christen the house, breaking in almost every room and every surface in it. And Caleb still always manages to surprise me. He is such a generous and giving lover – always looking to please and satisfy me.

  “I love you, Abby,” he says, saying the words I'll never grow tired of hearing him speak.

  “I love you too, Caleb.”

  And to think – not all that long ago, Caleb swore he wasn't the relationship-type. He said that he'd never settle down with just one woman. But the way he looks at me now – it makes me feel like I'm the only woman he has eyes for.

  Good thing too. Because God knows, I'd never stopped loving him, and I doubt I ever will. Sex with Caleb is amazing. But loving him – and allowing myself to be loved by him – as we plan our life and our future together, makes it even more wonderful and amazing.

  Every morning I wake up to see him in bed next to me, I thank my lucky stars we both got a second chance to do something right. Something great.

  THE END

  Her Hunk

  I'll risk everything to save her...

  Hunter

  She's sexy as hell, and everything I'm looking for.

  She's prim and proper, and she intimidates the f*ck out of me.

  I let her go once, but I won't make that same mistake twice.

  Especially, now that she's in danger.

  I'm falling for Eleanor, and I'll do everything to protect her...

  Eleanor

  Hunter was the perfect distraction.

  A night with him was supposed to be filled with pleasure.

  Hunter with his crystal green eyes, and his sex-pack abs.

  I thought I would never see him again.

  But then he saved my life.

  Now, if we can get out of this alive.

  I can tell him who I really am...

  Chapter One

  Eleanor

  “Why now? Why fucking now?”

&nb
sp; The gold and red carpet felt rough beneath my feet, making them sting as I ran down the narrow hallway. There was nothing like the corridors of the lower levels of a cruise ship to make me regret that extra serving of cheesecake. I had removed the heels that I had so carefully chosen for the night after I started running and they were dangling from my fingers now. No way in hell I was going to let them go. The terrifying-looking goomba behind me might be getting closer, but I wasn’t about to drop those shoes. That didn’t mean that I was going to twist my ankle on them and go out like one of those simpering blondes in a 50’s horror movie though, so I would just keep holding them from their straps and contemplate all of the ways that I could use them as a weapon if the need came along. As I ran, my heart pumped fear through my veins, causing the blood to rush in my ears and blur all sound around me. I tried to listen for the sound of the man chasing me, but I couldn’t hear it. Was it possible that I had actually gotten away from him?

  I knew those three months I spent cruising would have some actual real-world benefit at some point. Using my extensive knowledge of the layout of most ships in this cruise line wasn’t exactly the benefit I was hoping for, but at that moment, I would take it.

  There was no one else in the seemingly endless hallway, but I couldn't decide if that was helping me or if it was making my frantic run more terrifying. If there was someone else there, they might help me, or could act as a deterrent for the man chasing me, even if they didn’t realize that they were doing anything. I could just pause sort of near them and hope that their presence would spook the man and make him go away. Kind of like those tiny home security system signs that people stick in their front yards even if they don’t actually have an active system. Of course, considering the luck that I was having that night, I would run right into the protective arms of the man’s partner.

  I finally came to a curve in the hallway and took a moment to orient myself as I followed it. I wasn’t sure how long I had been running and was starting to lose track of how far I had gone and where in the enormous cruise ship my haphazard course had brought me. Had I run past the hairdresser three floors up, or four? Were there more levels of interior rooms below me or had I gotten all the way down to the bottom of the guest portion of the ship? The thought of being this far down always unnerved me. Even though I knew in the logical part of my mind that it wasn’t the case, whenever I roamed this far into the lowest passenger levels I felt like I was going underwater. There was a reason that I had always avoided the submarine rides onshore. And at amusement parks. Or sticking my head under the surface to rinse my hair in the bath.

  I had been in the nightclub on one of the high decks when I started running. A bartender that had been trying really hard to flirt with me but was a bit too “cucu-kachoo, Mrs. Robinson” for my taste had just handed my drink to me across the glowing surface of a serpentine black bar that was reminding me of my younger days in a way that I wasn’t sure I appreciated when I glanced over my shoulder and saw the men step into the room. Even through the flashing strobe lights in the dark club I recognized them and my heart sank. The cruelness in their expressions sent chills through me and I knew instantly that Virgil had sent them. I dropped the drink from my hand and started to run, not looking back over my shoulder even as the people around me shouted their protest at the sound of the glass shattering and me forcing my way through the undulating bodies crowding the dancefloor. I had hoped that whoever these men were, they wouldn’t be able to keep up with me in the chaotic lights and dancing masses.

  I heard shouting behind me as I burst out of the club and started toward the stairs. The men had obviously seen my escape and weren’t thwarted by any of the people trying to ride out the last gasps of the night locked in a messy tangle of anonymity and hormones. I ducked into the first stairwell and leaned against the wall for a second to pry the shoes from my feet. They were not sprint-friendly and the experiences that I had had in the past with men much like these told me that I wasn’t going to be slowing down again soon. From there I took the stairwells, corridors, and decks in a seemingly nonsensical pattern that had me weaving and backtracking my way through the massive cruise liner without consideration for who might see me or what anyone might think of me. At that point, it didn’t matter to me what I needed to do or who I needed to use to get away. I wasn’t above flinging myself on a stranger for a diversionary make-out session, or taking a tremendously-overdressed dip in the zero-entry pool if I needed to.

  Why did it have to be a ship? Why did I have to be stranded out in the middle of the fucking ocean where I couldn’t just disappear into a store or hop out a window and get away?

  I saw the door to another stairwell ahead of me and quickened my steps to try to get to it faster. I paused just outside it and leaned close to the door, trying to listen for any indication that they might have chosen that stairwell in their pursuit of me. It was quiet. It seemed that I might have actually confused them enough to get away. At least for now. Satisfied that I was safe for the moment, I pressed the brushed silver bar to open the door and slipped inside. The dizzying flights of steps spiraled up through the decks and then rippled down deeper into the ship, confirming that I hadn’t actually found myself in the bowels of the levels. I let my eyes follow both paths, trying to determine which would be a better choice. The last time I had gone through one of the stairwells I had gone down, so I decided this time I would go up, hoping that I wasn’t just backtracking myself right into their path. The move would make me end up right back to where I had been, but maybe I was going to run out of bad luck for the week.

  I started up the steps as fast as I could. Even though I was clinging to the handrail like any good responsible stairwell-user, my feet tangled beneath me and I stumbled onto the stairs ahead of me.

  Perfect. I was a dumb blonde from a 50’s horror movie.

  Muttering a few creative obscenities, I pushed myself up and continued down the stairs. I ran past three decks before choosing the door that led out of the stairwell. I had taken only a few steps when a massive figure stepped out from a small alcove and reached out for me. I screamed and tried to escape the man's grip, but he turned me around and covered my mouth with one strong hand. Despite my thrashing, he seemed to have no trouble controlling me, and I eventually gave up, not having any energy left in me to fight against his strength. He picked me up off the floor and pulled me backwards into the alcove with him. I felt his mouth come to my ear and the heat of his breath burning on my skin.

  "Be quiet," the man hissed.

  The voice sounded distantly familiar, but I couldn’t place it. In my life, a familiar voice wasn’t something so completely out of the ordinary and many of the voices that were so familiar didn’t belong to people I would particularly enjoy meeting in a desolate hallway, so it didn’t give me any sense of confidence. I screamed harder against the man’s hand, but his grip tightened.

  "Shut up," he demanded into my ear. "Unless you want those guys to find you, I suggest that you quiet down. You’re going to be lucky if every person on this deck hasn’t heard you by now."

  I stilled at his words. His grip loosened and he lowered me to my feet again.

  "If I take my hand away, are you going to scream again?" he asked.

  I shook my head compliantly.

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes, I'm sure, you motherfu-"

  The man pressed his hand against my mouth harder to force me silent.

  "That wasn't very convincing, Eleanor. Now, I’m going to let you try that again. Are you going to scream if I take my hand away?"

  I shook my head and the man drew his hand slowly away from my mouth. When I didn’t make any noise, he slowly withdrew his arms from my body until I was free of his grip.

  "How do you know my name?" I asked, turning to look at him.

  As soon as I saw him, my stomach dropped a little further.

  Well, shit.

  “Hi, Eleanor,” Hunter said.

  “What are you doing here?” I
asked.

  I knew that my voice sounded a little icier than it probably should have, but I hadn’t been prepared to see the young, gorgeous man in front of me again, and the circumstances being what they were, I wasn’t feeling exactly friendly.

  “I’m assuming the same thing that you are,” he said, appropriately defensive in response to my bitchiness. “Noah and Snow sent me on this cruise as a thank-you celebration after their wedding. Though…” he hesitated, scrutinizing me, “I admit that I don’t really understand why they would send you. I was under the impression that it was just me, Snow’s friends Robin and Fawn, and a couple of Noah’s relatives. I didn’t realize that you and Noah were so close. I know that I’m certainly not that close with my third-grade teacher.”

  I forced myself to withhold the grimace that tried to contort my face. That split-second lie had come right on back and bit me in the ass. Of course, that meant that I was going to have to come up with another one. That’s how lies work. They are like potato chips. There’s never just one. You always end up reaching into the bag and coming up with another. Sometimes you have to slather a little dip on it. Since I didn’t really know how to talk myself out of what I had already told him or how to explain in a few seconds what was actually happening, I went for the dip.

  “We spent a lot of time together when he was younger,” I said. “I was his teacher, but I was also his babysitter. And my husband was his Cub Scout leader.”

  Too far?

  Hunter narrowed his eyes at me from behind the glasses that I still hated. This man was in serious need of contacts. His eyes were a gorgeous crystalline green and framed by lashes so long and full they looked like they had come packaged and emblazoned with the name of some celebrity du jour. They didn’t belong behind glasses, particularly not the thick black-rimmed ones that he was wearing.

  “Interesting,” he finally said. “I don’t really see Noah as the Cub Scout type.”