Her Swedish Billionaire's Baby: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance For Adults (14 page)

“
Don’t
hide from me. I wanna see this. This is mine.”

Samara trembled,
unable to hide her reaction from Bjorn. Bjorn curved his fingers
around Samara’s chin, and tilted her head up for a kiss. He
tangled his tongue with Samara’s and sucked, taste of Samara’s
slick invading his taste buds. He could feel Samara’s teeth
making teasing knicks as they did so.

“
You
like being mine, Samara?” he said this teasingly, pressed so
close that they were breathing the same air. Bjorn tumbled forward,
so that only his knees were left between Samara’s wide open
legs, and her chest and head were level with Bjorn’s. Samara
blinked up owlishly, face still flushed and mouth breathing in
stuttered bursts.

“
Wanna
hear what I want?” Bjorn didn’t wait for an answer, he
ducked down and took Samara’s exposed bottom lip in his teeth
and tugged, and Samara arched off of the bed, moans of pleasure,
laced in sin. Bjorn growl-laughed and it sent shivers down Samara’s
spine, made her ache to surrender, press her pussy into Bjorn’s
face and submit.

Bjorn was grinning,
eyes mostly black, thin ring of purple, and Samara knew he could
sense what Samara wanted, exactly what she was after, but he wanted
Samara to say it. Bjorn looked down, and let his gaze sweep over
Samara’s naked body. Samara was gnawing at her lip again,
because Bjorn was still in his jeans, zipper opening for his dick to
breathe, and it was jutting out obscenely, twitching in the breeze,
dusky pink and getting darker.

He cupped Samara’s
pregnancy with both hands, spanning the bump entirely, end to end.

“
Unh,”
Samara grunted out, intelligently, not liking how her clit was
attempting to make a getaway at how fucking sexy that felt.

“
Fucking
love this, don’t you, baby?” Bjorn wasn’t looking
at her, he was staring at where his child was housed, and Samara was
floored by the look of protection and possession she could see.

Medieval fortress,
necessary, yet functional. Samara squirmed and then gasped as Bjorn
pressed his thumb just inside her hole, letting it sit there, big and
fat and hot, and then he pumped it in and out shallowly. He
maintained his grip on Samara’s swell with the other hand,
tight grin on his features.

“
I
wanna rub off on you. Fucking come all over your stomach, paint you
all in my come.” Bjorn’s gaze was hard, unforgiving, and
Samara knew he was staking his claim here, and Samara was wilting.

“
Make
you cry cause it’s so good.”

Bjorn slipped his
body down, fingers leaving Samara’s pregnancy, and Samara
couldn’t help the mewl of loss. Bjorn’s face softened and
hardened in unison, and he propped Samara’s legs back up with
one forearm. “I’ll give you what you want, baby. Don’t
worry.”

Samara was
scrambling, when she felt the head of Bjorn’s dick press
against the wrinkled furl, but Bjorn was teasing, and Samara wasn’t
having it. She was awake for what felt like the first time in months,
and she wanted to get fucked.

“
Know
what I want, Bjorn?” Samara said, attempting to berate, but her
voice was high and breathy like she was on drugs. She supposed that
was accurate.

“
For
you to fuck the shit outta me.” Bjorn’s hands were
tightening around Samara’s body, and now he was smiling,
because he knew this arena. Knew just how to rile little Bjorn up,
make him too bothered to care. Samara didn’t particularly care
for her looks, she used them to her advantage when necessary, but in
general, they were an impediment. People remembered what she looked
like. They remembered the tall shapely chocolate woman with the brown
eyes, and thick heart shaped lips. They always pointed her out. They
might remember the rest of her family; her taller father and shorter
sister.

But they never forgot
Samara’s face. That’s not something she wanted,
especially in her father’s line of business.

But, she had taught
herself how to use it, out of necessity. She never used it on Bjorn,
never had a reason to, until now. “I promise,” she said,
eyes wide and guileless, consciously tugging her lip into her mouth
and then releasing it. “Once you’re inside me I won’t
move off of that fat dick, stud.”

Samara still cried
out when Bjorn full on howled and penetrated her in the same breath,
shoving her up the bed so violently that Bjorn immediately had to
tangle his fingers around the back of Samara’s head to avoid
concussing her against the headboard with the force of his thrusts.

Samara sliced
fingernails through the skin on Bjorn’s forearms, but Bjorn
didn’t notice, growling filth above her as he pummeled Samara,
stealing every single breath she had in her body, because it belonged
to Bjorn, just the same.

“
Fucking
tease,” Bjorn’s muttering, wild and unchecked, and Samara
was floored to realize she loved it. “Looking at people with
those fucking eyes, wondering why I have to fight everyone for you.”
Bjorn leaned down suddenly, raking his teeth over the hickey he’d
placed, just above the IV line, under her ear, and Samara whimpered,
tangling her fingers in Bjorn’s beautiful auburn hair.

He pressed his lips
to Samara’s ear, one hand occupied, snaking down to where he
and Samara were connected, index and thumb tracing at Samara’s
rim, stretched out and shivering under the feather-light caress.

“
With
you looking how you look, you got any idea why I wanna burn the whole
world down?”

Samara was keening,
spasming under Bjorn and Bjorn quickly leaned up, made sure the IV
wasn’t close to being dislodged, because Samara spasmed her
orgasm, her whole body shuddering and shaking with the force of it.

Bjorn watched her
with hooded eyes, a little awe floating through him. “Didn’t
even touch you. Samara, wasn’t even fucking you--” and
Samara wanted to be ashamed, at least a little, but her body was
still making weak jerks and she was still making tiny, punched out
whimpers against the press of Bjorn’s body, which was suddenly
closer as he started fucking her in earnest, damn near rutting.

Samara could feel his
penis against her pussy, and she wanted it, wanted to be plugged up
with Bjorn’s come, but Bjorn must have had other ideas, because
he jerked out at the last instant and raised himself up on rickety
knees, towering over Samara. Samara knew her eyes were big, mouth
agape, and she was flushed from head to toe.

Bjorn was coming all
over her belly, blazing white streaks, mosaic of Bjorn, littering her
chin to the bottom of her stomach, territory mark. Bjorn was too
unfettered by his claim to flop down gracelessly beside Samara,
instead he was smearing it into Samara’s skin, humming softly.

He pressed dirty
fingers to Samara’s lips and smeared it there, groaning audibly
when Samara licked them clean, picture of innocence, still too fucked
out to realize what it was she just did.

“
I
love you, Samara. But next time you want something, just ask me,
alright?” Samara was blushing; Bjorn was royally pissed when he
had found Samara up and at ‘em, attempting to shuffle her way
downstairs, flummoxed at the top step as to how to drag the IV stand
with her. She was in no state to carry the damn thing.

Sure, Bjorn carried
her right back to bed and fucked the shit out of her, but Bjorn was
livid. And under that anger was real fear, and it had Samara ducking
her head in annoyance and shame. “Fine. But I’ve been on
this thing for two weeks already. M’not gonna lay here all day.
Fucking sucks.”

Bjorn ran a hand over
her lower lip and smiled indulgently. “Fair enough. I’ll
carry you down to the couch, and set you up there. You could watch
Game of Thrones all day.” Samara snorted, but perked up despite
that, and was momentarily irritated at the fact that this was what
her life had come to.

She almost fucking
missed the goddamn hustle.

*****

Bjorn was leaving the
mediator’s office where he and Demerle had given an update on
the current state of affairs. He was walking to the car lost in
thought when he felt a presence to his right. He tensed, wondering if
someone was trying to attack him. There was no one around except a
solitary tall black man, leaning on the wall, with his hands in his
pockets. He nodded at Bjorn and Bjorn frowned, wondering what was
familiar about him. The man straightened up, walking toward Bjorn.

“
Mr.
Fredriksen. It's good to meet you at last,” he said.

“
Do
I know you?”

“
You’re
the man having a baby with my daughter,” he said with a pleased
smile. A light bulb went off in Bjorn’s head.

“
Ah.
You are Christopher Khaled,” he stated.

“
In
the flesh. So…shall we talk…compensation?”

“
Compensation
for what?”

“
Impregnating
my daughter of course; causing her public embarrassment, of course
this in no way impacts child support.”

Bjorn laughed, “You
are amusing.”

Chris Khaled’s
face fell, “I would have hoped you’d be reasonable about
this.”

Bjorn took a step
toward Chris. “Get out of here. Never contact me, or your
daughter again. Next time I won’t be so polite,” he
whispered before turning his back on Samara’s dad and walking
away. Chris watched him go, thunder in his eyes.

*****

Alison got up from
the sofa, at what effectively now was partly her place but she still
saw it as Bjorn's, and answered the door. She opened it to find
someone she'd of never of expected. Chris.

"What the?"
Alison asked the tall dark man in front of her.

"Nice to see you
too.” Chris said rubbing his shoulders due to the cold.

"What? Why are
you here?" Chris’ face dropped a little and he looked to
the floor scuffing his shoes on the door step before looking at
Alison with a slanted head.

"Got kicked out
of the hotel."

"What and ya
think you can just turn up here?"

"You're the only
person I know that won't beat 10 shades out of me for showing up at
her door."

"Yeah and who's
fault was that?" Chris laughed, fighting back the urge to ask
how many friends Alison has.

“
I
need some cash. Please Alison I'm desperate," he said, pleading
on the door step, and Alison knew he hated doing that as much as
Alison did herself.

"You were always
good at making money." Alison said.

"Alright then."
Chris said slightly angry and out of options. "You abandon me,
come to shack up with your sister and her billionaire; now you acting
like I’m not still your father?"

"Ok ok. Calm
down!" Chris wiped his face and his breath was uneven as he
breathed out slowly.

"Come in. You
don't... We're not going to. Ok? Just come in and calm down.”

They walked into the
living room and Alison urged Chris to sit.

“
Why
ya get kicked out? I thought that..”

“
Yeah
well you thought wrong.” Chris wiped his face, knowing what
Alison was going to say. She was going to comment on how she thought
Chris couldn't get kicked out. How he’d made a career of not
being thrown out of places. Chris stood up and walked round the room.
“I need cash Alison.”

“
Ok.
Chris it's fine. I can give you enough for a B&B or…”

“
No
Alison. I didn’t want to do it like this but.. I mean serious
cash.”

“
God
Chris what you do this time.” Chris shook his head, it was
clear he was panicked and angry.

“
Lets
just say got involved with the wrong people and now I’m in it
big time. So… I need your help, please Alison.”

Alison shook her head
but she could see Chris was in some big trouble. “I can give ya
a few hundred.” Chris almost laughed as he walked around the
room wiping his face. “I need more than that Alison.”

“
What?
A few thousand? More? Chris look around you. I'm staying in my little
sisters house with her boyfriend…I…I can't Chris I’m
sorry…”

“
What?
Ya gonna… Alison I need your help!”

“
Chris.”
Alison said in as calm as voice as she could as Chris stopped still
and put his hand in his pocket to pull out a rolled up letter.

“
Give
me the money or I’ll tell everyone every last one of your
secrets.”

“
What?”

“
I
mean it.” Chris said holding up the envelope which Alison
recognized.

“…
Why…how…”
Alison was speechless and Chris laughed slightly as he rubbed his
sniffing nose.

“
50
grand Alison. Or little sis finds out all your dirty little secrets
and believe me I’ve got a lot more proof than this.”

“
You
can’t do this.”

“
Can't
I?” Chris said as he walked to the door. “You’ve
got my number. I’m guessing I can’t stay here but I’ve
got enough for that B&B across the road.”

Alison kicked a chair
as Chris walked out and growled in anger. She’d almost got
things back on track with Samara. Almost. And now Chris might ruin
her whole life.

“
I
need your help,” Alison began as soon as Bjorn stepped in the
penthouse. He stopped just inside the door, staring at her.

“
My
father is in town-“ she began.

“
I
know. I met him. He tried to extort me.”

“
What?
When?” Alison asked completely distracted.

“
This
morning. So I take it you were his next target? Are you supposed to
ask me for money or…?”