Protecting Her: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

by Kira Blakely

  But the woman just chuckled for a few moments, sounding amused. “Honey, I’d just go to sleep if I were you. I heard it was quite a fire. And you need your rest more than most of us. Who knows what will happen on your next shift? Who might need you, then?”

  I hung up, not wanting the conversation to drag on another moment. Cracking another beer, I guzzled it, allowing a soft buzz to take over my brain. I was growing obsessed, rattled, wanting only to wrap my arms around this girl and hold her tight. Outside, what was left of her house remained crumpled, a collection of bricks and broken pieces of black wood. She wouldn’t be coming back to live. There was nothing left to scavenge. She’d have to start over.

  I fell asleep sometime later, stretched out in my boxers, shirt-less and sweating on the couch. In the morning, as the sun eased through the blinds, I abandoned it, taking up refuge in my bed, grateful not to have the familiar nightmares. Instead, Sarah Goldlein erupted into my dreams, slinking through them with that thin waist, those cresting breasts, and that soft, trusting smile.

  When I awoke, my cock had thrust itself through the hole in my boxers, riding up against the comforter above. I stripped it from me, easing a hand against the stiffness of my member. The veins pulsed against the skin, and a small trickle of cum had begun its course down the staff.

  If she wasn’t going to come to me, I would have to do it myself.

  The doorbell rang, buzzing through my ears. I shot up, my eyes like saucers. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I realized it was just after five in the afternoon of the following day—over twelve hours since I’d called the hospital. Shoving my cock downward, I eased from the bed, shoving my fingers through my hair. My best guesses were: the chief, one of the other firemen, or my brother, Rob, who’d probably caught wind of the fire on the news and wanted to make sure I was okay.

  He was usually good like that.

  Shimmering sunlight blinded me as I entered the foyer, making me unable to view who was outside. Nabbing the pair of pants I’d left near the couch the night before, I pulled them on and buttoned them. My abs were a firm line above the button. I wouldn’t bother putting on a shirt. I didn’t have time to find a fresh one.

  As I opened the door, I felt sure I was still in the dream. Standing there, poised and stunning, was Sarah Goldlein. She was wearing a slinky black dress, with a V-neck that shot all the way down between her breasts. Her nipples poked from the fabric, looking firm and pointed, just as I remembered them from the previous night. Her hair lay in soft curls down her shoulders and back, giving her an angelic appearance.

  Really, though. Was I dreaming?

  “Hi,” she began, her voice soft and lilting. “I hope you don’t mind that I just stopped by like this.”

  I laughed slightly, easing my head against the doorframe. “Didn’t expect you.”

  “I bet you’re wondering how I found out where you lived?” she asked.

  “Sure.” I would play along with her game, if she wanted it so bad. Why not?

  “Well, I called the station. That’s how, Theo,” she said, giggling. With a flash, she lifted a bottle of whiskey from behind her leg, revealing it like a present. “I’ve brought something for you. Like a present, if you will. For all you did for me last night.”

  Already, the previous night felt like a million years ago. I accepted the gift, assessing her. Why had she dressed in such an alluring way, just to drop off a gift? Gesturing with my head, I said, “Why don’t you come in and have the first drink with me?”

  I watched the effect on her. It was as if I’d stripped her, said something sexual. Her cheeks turned pink; her eyes blinked several times, lost in mine. And then she nodded, following me indoors and tucking the door closed behind her.

  She was trapped with me, now. She had come, willingly, into my arena. And it wasn’t like I was going to let her leave without giving me what I wanted.

  As we walked, she spoke—wanting to fill the gaps, the silence. She was anxious, a little girl. “I wanted to come here and thank you. I was trying to think of something, anything, you might want in return. But I don’t think the whiskey will ever be enough.”

  We’d reached the kitchen. I lifted two glasses from the cabinet and filled each with two fingers’ worth of whiskey. It was barrel-aged, from Kentucky. We clinked our glasses together, and I noticed her hand was shaking. I watched, cat-eyed, as she sipped her first bit, gasping at the strength.

  She would do anything I asked her to.

  I knew that, now.

  “Doctor checked you out all right?” I asked her, taking a step forward. I was pinning her into the corner, watching as she shuffled backward—trying to avoid my grip. Or perhaps she was just trying to drive me wild. The last light of the evening glittered against the white of her breasts, peeking over the black V-neck. I shivered, yearning to clasp my fingers around her nipples.

  “Yes,” she breathed, her eyelashes fluttering. “He gave me an inhaler, just in case. He said if I’d been in there another two minutes, he isn’t sure I would have made it…”

  This struck me. Two minutes? That was such a minor difference. It was just a different speed in the fire engine. It was how quickly I’d cleared out of the engine, hooked up to the fire hydrant, and began to coat the kitchen with water.

  But I couldn’t think about that now.

  I moved forward, pressing my body along hers. She gazed into my eyes, her lower lip quivering. When she sensed this was what I wanted—all I wanted her to do—she placed her hands along my firm, muscled abdomen, then eased them down toward the bulge in my jeans.

  I knew she’d never seen a cock like mine before. The minute she cracked open the button, unzipped the jeans, and revealed my massive staff, her expression changed from shock to sheer, unforeseen pleasure. She held its stiff thickness in her thin, milky hands, easing her fingers over the veins and causing a bright bit of cum to pulse from the end.

  Gazing up into my eyes, she said something I’ll never forget. Never in all my life.

  “You’re an animal. Fuck me as hard as you can.”

  Chapter 8

  Sarah

  Even after I said it, I knew it wasn’t time. I wanted to make this long-lasting, a time he wouldn’t forget. When I’d woken in the hospital and that nurse had told me the firefighter had called for me again—inquiring after my health—I’d known I needed to do something. Something to ease the burden of his stressful, demanding job.

  Something I knew, based on the way he’d looked at me the day before, he wanted. He wanted it more than he could say.

  Theo placed his hand on my head and pushed me down to my knees slowly, until I was poised in front of his cock. I slung the rest of his jeans to the floor, watching as his mountain-man feet kicked them to the side of the room. He stood, feet wide apart, his red and veiny, thick cock pointed directly toward my face.

  I wasn’t even sure I could take it.

  Closing my eyes, I pulsed forward, bringing my tongue along the tip of his staff, tracing it over the tip and tasting the first of his cum. He moaned evenly, keeping his hands on my head, playing with my hair. I kept going, tracing my tongue around and around the tip, before bringing more and more of my mouth around it. I could feel the pulse of him through the veins. Still, as I pushed forward, I had to open my mouth wider to accommodate his incredible girth.

  Deep-throating him, I pressed his cock against the far darkness of my mouth, inhaling him. I could feel him quiver and shake with the pleasure of it.

  “Fuck, Sarah,” he breathed, moaning. “Jesus Christ. What are you doing to me?”

  But I didn’t want to stop. Slowly, evenly, I brought my mouth back, gliding the tongue around and around him, nearly all the way to the tip. And then, I did it again, deep-throating him, listening to him roar with pleasure from above.

  While I was toying with the tip of his cock, he lifted my light frame onto the countertop and spread my legs wide. I huffed with surprise, still tasting his cum on my lips. With all the stre
ngth of a firefighter, his biceps flashing in the light, he tore at my dress and tossed it to the floor, revealing my breasts below.

  “This is what I’ve been dreaming about since I first saw you,” he whispered, bringing his face toward my tits. He wrapped his tongue around their darkness, nipping at them. And then he switched sides, sucking at me, needing me. I placed my hands around his dark blond hair, easing my fingers through the strands. It seemed our bodies had been crying out for one another for years. And we had only now found the truth.

  In these moments, Josh was a figment of another person’s imagination. He couldn’t have ever been my boyfriend.

  He couldn’t have made me feel this way.

  Never. Not in a million years.

  Theo placed his hands on the insides of my thighs and began to ease his fingers toward my clit, spreading my legs still wider. The soft, pink darkness between my legs grew wet, insistent. He placed his fingers at the tightness of my clit, then pulsed inside, spreading me wide. My eyes grew to be saucers, staring into his. In return, his eyes were demanding, yet comforting—needing what my body could give him.

  Needing my noise.

  “God, baby,” I cried out. “Yes.” I reached for his cock, wrapping it firmly with my left hand—barely able to hold its thickness. “Take me. Now. You need to fuck me now.”

  From that moment on, my mind went blank. I gave myself over to pleasure, to the beauty our bodies could create together. I gave myself over to his beating heart, to his pumping blood, to his thick, pulsing cock.

  I knew nothing else.

  Chapter 9

  Theo

  I couldn’t take it a moment longer. With her fingers around my cock, I grew rock hard. My brain grew animalistic, wild, knowing only that I yearned to fuck her into oblivion. With a fit of rage, of power, I pulsed my cock against the dark pink opening between her legs, gazing into her warm, yet frightened eyes.

  They took me right back to that moment in the bathroom, when I’d found her poised, prepared to die.

  And then, I pulsed into her, shoving into the dark wetness and finding refuge on the other side. I began to fuck her, thrusting again and again, and watching as her ass shifted against the countertop. Her head ducked beneath the cabinet, knocking slightly against the wall. Her eyes closed with the intense pleasure, the pain of it. My cock was too big for her; it stretched her thin. And yet, her fingernails reached around my shoulders and snuck into my skin and nearly drew blood.

  “You’re a tiger,” I whispered to her. Reaching low, I wrapped my mouth around her tight nipples, knocking my tongue against the brown stub, and watching as her face grew lax with pleasure.

  Her body was my instrument, doing whatever I wanted it to do, creating music as it linked with mine. Abruptly, I changed the tune, lifting her from the counter. Her legs wrapped tight around my waist. Her hands eased around to my chest, drawing scratch marks down my skin. I knew she was impressed with my muscles, the tightness of my pectorals, my biceps. Her eyes flickered across them, drinking me in.

  Carrying her to the bedroom, I wrapped my lips around her bottom one, sucking at it. She cooed with pleasure. When we reached the bed, I dropped her onto the comforter, watching as her breasts shook with the impact. Her body was tight, her pussy lips bright pink from my fingers.

  She spread her legs wide, a greeting, and said, “Do you feel thanked yet?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet. I think we’re hours away from that.”

  Pushing forward, I brought my mighty frame over her slight one, inhaling her light, flowery scent. I bit at her shoulder, then traced a line with my tongue up her neck, then down between her breasts. I kissed her from her belly button down to the soft center, gazing up at her, into her eyes.

  After a moment’s pause, I brought my tongue along the folds of her perfect, peach lips, diving into the center darkness. She gasped, arching her back. I held onto her hips, keeping her tight against me. And then I toyed with her, nibbling at her clit and sucking at the hard knob, before tracing a circle inside her. She cried out, clinging to my hair.

  “You like that?” I asked, breaking the seductive kiss. “You want more of it?”

  “I want you inside me,” she cooed back, lifting me toward her. “Come on, baby. I need you to fill me. I want to show you what you mean to me. Please.”

  I couldn’t wait. I pulsed within her, filling her once more, and fucking her from above, not holding back any longer. She reached up and clung to the headboard. Her lips parted, her tongue inched from between them, showing her sincere pleasure. I could feel her heart, pattering like a rabbit’s against my own ribcage.

  Suddenly, she shoved at my chest, turning me over. I kept myself within her as she rose above me, straddling me. Her long, thin legs were milky and smooth, adjusting against the sides of me. She pressed her hands against my pectorals, clinging to me, and then she began to hump me: riding my huge, pulsing, rock-hard cock, her breasts flashing up and down. After a moment, I reached up and clung to her large, round ass, keeping her tight against me, watching as her pink pussy lips spread wide to swallow me whole.

  The pleasure was electric.

  I knew I was going to come. I could sense it, could feel my mind falling away. Reaching up, I placed two fingers against her clit, forcing my cock to stride up against her G-spot—igniting both pleasure spots. Her eyes shot open wide, gazing into mine. She knew what I wanted: for us to come together.

  I thrust my cock as far as it would go into her soft nothingness. This did the trick. As I began to pulse, falling into orgasm, she fell with me, riding an impossible cloud of pleasure alongside me. She began to gasp, to moan. And then, she fell silent, bringing her body forward and pressing her tits against my chest. We were still connected, my cock taking its last moments inside of her.

  And then, we were released.

  I wrapped my arms around her for a long time, laying in silence. She was still quivering, allowing the orgasm to roll through her again and again. Finally, she looked up at me, kissing the base of my neck. She whispered, “Did I convince you of how grateful I am?”

  I chuckled slightly, sweeping my hands through her hair. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt more honored as a fireman.”

  “I love this accent of yours,” she said, adjusting herself against me. “You’re from the South, right? I remember when someone moved into this house. Saw the license plate. Alabama, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I said, wondering how much of myself I could give to this girl. Could I tell her I’d left Alabama because my job had gotten out of hand there? Could I tell her that I still had bad dreams about my past—that the mere fact I’d been able to save her had made me think differently about my life, about the way I could interact with the world?

  I didn’t know.

  But something about her made me trust her.

  “I came here to escape some things,” I began. “But it feels like I ran into something that feels pretty all right.”

  “Indianapolis is a cozy city,” Sarah said, kissing me again. “I think, with my help, this can become your home. I think you’ll see that you made the right choice, coming here.”

  “You’re saying this isn’t the last time I’ll see you?” I asked, grinning.

  “Don’t be dumb,” Sarah responded, giggling. “Let’s get some sleep. And then, let’s wake up and do it all over again. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Epilogue

  Theo

  The next several days became an endless stream of sex and alcohol and laughing in bed, in between shifts. I’d begun to see my life in two dimensions. My Alabama life and my Indiana life. And I was beginning to see all the ways my Indiana life was good for me. How it was rejuvenating me, body and soul.

  One afternoon, after thrusting her against the countertop and spreading Sarah’s legs wide, I kissed the nape of her neck and peered up at her. My pulsing, rock-hard cock was in her hands, poised, ready. And her eyes glittered with desire for me.

 
This must have been the fiftieth time we’d fucked in less than two weeks. And I, in no way, was ready to see her go.

  “Do you want to move in with me?” I asked.

  Her nostrils flared, and her glittering eyes searched mine, swallowing me whole. After a long pause, she nodded.

  “How could I resist building a life with you?” she whispered. “How could I say no?”

  Overjoyed, I thrust my cock into the soft, dark folds within her, fucking her tenderly, wrapping my thick biceps around her thin frame. This was a different form of sex: it was making love. She held onto me tightly, the man who had saved her life. The man who would ensure that she was taken care of. Forever, if it came to that.

  And god, I hoped it did.

  We moved her things in the next week—the few things she’d accumulated since the fire, that is. Across the street, the property had been demolished, with a construction crew coming and digging up the last of the foundation. “Something else will be built there, now,” Sarah told me once, over dinner. “Something better than what I had. Something whole. Something like us.”

  We rarely spoke about her ex-boyfriend, a kid I later learned was named Josh. All she told me was that she was so grateful she hadn’t died, as that would have been something Josh would have put on himself. “He would have thought my love for him was just too much to bear,” she giggled, stirring a pot of pasta and a side skillet of sauce. She pointed, chuckling. “You know, this was what I was making myself that night…” She trailed off, her eyes growing far away.

  During moments like this, moments when the memories and the fear ebbed at her perfect mind, I rose up, wrapped my firm arms around her, and held her close. I kissed the back of her neck until she giggled, protesting it was too ticklish. Shoving the pots and pans to the side, and turning off the stove, I rushed her into the bedroom, unable to resist her. She gazed up at me with huge, trusting eyes. I ripped the dress from her shoulders, revealing her gorgeous, thin frame below. Her breasts fit my hands perfectly, two large, white balloons, light and gorgeous.