To Want A Billionaire (The Billionaire's Baby Series Book 1) by Ava Claire Page A

than normal, with a tiny human growing inside it, was lost somewhere in the silk of my cover up. And it had been weeks since we’d used a bed for anything more than sleeping. That wasn’t because I stopped being sexy. Or because he stopped being the hottest thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. We just had to make time for us.
    I had to remind him that I was still a submissive who craved her Dominant’s touch.
    I perched my shades on the crown of my head and scoped out our general vicinity. We were sprawled on plush lounge chairs. They were probably a pain in the ass to maintain with all the sand and sweat and sunscreen, but I’d learned that ‘wealth’ was too often synonymous with ‘waste’. A crystal blue pool that was ours alone laid out before us, leading to a private beach, and a priceless view of the ocean, blue diamonds sparkling as far as the eye could see. The concierge had stocked us well, with staff ready to cater to our every need if we hit the golden button on the chrome panel affixed to one of the pillars that supported the cabana above us.
    There was a need I had that only one person could cater to, but he seemed content to pretend I hadn’t just fired off a command. That very act should have been enough to at least get a growl, and at best, well...
    So I did the only thing I could do, something I knew would elicit a reaction from my brooding billionaire.
    I rose to my feet, slower than usual, sweeping a hand over my belly. I bent slightly at the waist, gathering the silky fabric in my fists. Without a word, without warning, I pulled the caftan up and off my body.
    I thought I’d have to do something like clear my throat or turn the strip of marble in front of us into a runway, but no announcements or prancing was necessary.
    The ball cap was long gone, his pale eyes sweeping over every part of me.
    The wind gusted my hair into my face, my shades no match for the unruly strands, but I didn’t care. I took off the shades and tossed them on the cushion I’d abandoned, right on top of the caftan.
    I waited, basking in the glow of his eyes, the way the very air that surrounded us had changed. It was charged with sexual energy now. Tension.
    Jacob pulled his body to 90 degrees, his full attention on me. Studying me. Those blue orbs that I could swim in dropped from my mouth to my belly.
    Panic flared in my throat. I didn’t want him to treat me like a china doll. Not when I suddenly needed him as badly as I needed oxygen. “Before you worry about the baby-”
    “Oh, I’m going to worry about the baby, and you, until I draw my final breath,” he interrupted, his words lassoing my heart. His tone immediately darkened, his gaze narrowing. “And you wrongly assume that I take orders from my submissive.”
    His voice was like caramel, chocolate, blackberry pie, and moose tracks ice cream, all rolled into one. It was the most decadent thing I’d ever heard. Had his voice always been so sexy and I was too wrapped up in everything else that I stopped noticing? That was hard to fathom since he’d just turned a few words into the most delicious foreplay.
    “I’m much more concerned about your flagrant disregard of how things work around here, little sub.”
    He stopped a few feet from me. Close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him in waves, far enough away that my pussy clenched in protest because I could see his growing bulge tenting the front of his black trunks.
    “Jacob,” I whispered, my voice cracking and giving me away. His smirk told me that he could have read my desire even if I hadn’t opened my mouth. He knew me, and I’d learned the language of Jacob as well. That smirk said he wanted and needed me too.
    He erased the remaining distance between us, my round tummy no barrier to his touch. His fingers drifted from the curve of my stomach to my hair. He swept a bundle of curls from my eyes and tucked them behind my ear, leaning into me.
    His lips brushed my lobe as he breathed,