The British Billionaire's Baby by Cristina Grenier Page B

admit.
    He wanted more than to just watch his child being born. He didn’t want it to be shipped off to some expensive boarding school the moment it would walk. He knew, from experience, that such things were never the best policy for his child.
    Gabby was right. It was time for him to be firmer with his mother. She might hold many of the cards, but he still had a few of his own. “I promise, I will speak with her, Gabby.”
    She turned in his arm to face him, searching his face for any signs of dishonesty before she spoke. “You know, I believe you. I might be crazy for it, but I do.” With that, she made a last attempt to pull out of his arms, the naked slid of her body against his driving him to the cusp of insanity. Sebastian jerked her back to him, reading the shock in her eyes a moment before he kissed her.
    She tasted just as sweet as he remembered – and her body was like liquid heat as she arched into his embrace, her lips parting beneath his. He had watched her for weeks – admired the poise with which she’d handled the cameras that poked into their privacy and his harpy of a mother. He’d seen her unhappiness and the strain in her features.
    And now he would erase it all – every last iota.
    His mouth moved down the column of her throat slowly, deliberately, and she shuddered against him as his tongue dipped into the hollow at its base. Her skin was damp with sweat and a few streaks of paint that smeared against his hands as they slid over her spine and down to cup the round globes of her behind.
    Though she wasn’t even three months heavy with pregnancy, her body had already begun to change – her breasts were rounder and more lush, her hips fuller. As Sebastian lowered his head to take a chocolate-hued nipple between his teeth, a ragged gasp escaped her. His tongue circled the tight little nub slowly, until she was squirming and whimpering in his embrace. Her reaction drew a Sebastian’s smile against her warm flesh as one of his hands crept forward to find her wet and wanting between the legs.
    They’d been dancing around one another for what seemed like an eternity, and now that he had her in his arms, he was going to take his time with her to recall the chemistry that had driven them to exhaustion before morning had broken.
    Gabrielle gasped as his fingers moved torturously over her drenched cleft, her head falling back as he stroked her. He marveled that she slickened so quickly for him – even though she might be furious with him for allowing his mother to oppress them. Releasing her nipple, he straightened, eager to watch her face as he pleasured her.
    Her gray eyes were hooded and dark, her fingers tense as they gripped his upper arm. With every stroke of his fingers, her hips bucked gloriously against his hand. When he finally obliged her with the swift thrust and withdrawal of two fingers into her tight sheath, Gabrielle cried out softly, biting her lip as she shook her head in denial of the pleasure wracking her body.
    She was gorgeous like this – covered in paint and absolutely nothing else as her body strained against him. He slid his fingers back inside her, stroking the silken walls of her femininity until she was whimpering continuously, her lips parted as her thighs trembled. Again and again he plied her until hushed epithets were falling from her lips and her nails raked over the silk of his pajama shirt as she came powerfully.
    He relished the way her inner muscles milked his fingers, their spasms slowly ebbing until she sagged against him, her breathing ragged. Sebastian leaned down to press a kiss against her damp forehead, and then the sweetness of her mouth, before raising his hand to lick his fingers clean.
    There was little that he had seen that could make the unpredictable Gabrielle Arnold blush, but she did now, her cheeks flushing in the low light of the flickering candles. “That…” She finally managed on a hoarse whisper, “That was most definitely not