CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Ella
D ad’s flight left at eleven p.m. Sunday night. Balor texted me that he had family obligations all weekend, but that he was looking forward to seeing me Monday morning.
I mentioned Dad’s trip to him and asked why he hadn’t said anything to me. He said it was a last-minute swap with another developer who couldn’t go.
Monday morning, his car arrives out front to pick me up. When I get to his house, I tiptoe upstairs and find him like I usually do every morning.
Three more pregnancy tests showed positive, but my doctor is still backed up with appointments, so I must wait for an official diagnosis.
I’m guessing I got pregnant when we were in Los Angeles. Which means taking the low-dose pills shortly after was for naught. Or Balor has really powerful swimmers.
And gah, I could have hurt my baby! I flushed all the pills right down the drain.
I find Balor on his stomach, his naked body twisted in the sheets. His round ass gets me every time. The cool skin when I grip it makes me smile. Him, too.
Eyes closed, he turns over. “That better be my butterfly,” he murmurs.
“I’m not the housekeeper.”
“You’re keeping me...” He stops and clears his throat. “What time is it?”
“Time for me to blow you.”
“Oh, thank God. I jerked off so much this weekend.”
When he’s not hard and dying for my mouth, where I might not get a straight answer, I’ll address why he sent my father to the other side of the world without telling me.
And then the baby news...
Right now, I just want to feel his cock slide past my lips.
Fisting his hard, swollen cock, he says, “God, baby, I need your mouth on me.”
I lower my tongue and take a swipe at the pearly drops of pre-cum on the crown.
“Fuuuuck,” he groans, low and so very male.
My womb holding his baby meows for him.
I’m ravenous for him to spill down my throat. He gets his most primal fucking my face.
I suck him into my mouth and take him in as deeply as my jaw will allow.
He strangles a moan when my wet lips release him to lick up the sides with my hands around the base of the stiff shaft.
The heat of his maleness makes my core tingle. With his legs spread wide and the controlled rhythm of his hips, he makes love to my mouth.
He threads his fingers through my hair, which I no longer spray with products or wear up in a clip because Balor always unravels any style I work hard at.
As he gets close, he pulls harder, wrapping the long strands a few times around his palm like it’s braided nylon rope and he’s a bull rider.
Balor, the bull rider. He’s got the body for it. But he’s so smart, he’d outwit a two-ton bucking beast.
“You suck my cock so good, Ella,” he hisses. “My sweet little assistant loves sucking her boss’s cock. You really had me convinced you were a whore. I’m so fucking lucky because you wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock like one, but you’re mine. No one fucking touches what’s mine.” He groans and his hips move quicker as I bring him to the brink of orgasm.
He shoves himself even deeper into my mouth, keeping my head steady while he thrusts inside me, hitting the back of my throat.
I gag, my eyes watering, but I don’t care. It gets me off nearly as much as it does him.
Balor’s visceral moans almost sound pained. He’s dying to come, but he’s being a brat. He wants to keep feeling my mouth around his cock.
I suck harder, increasing the pressure as he fucking loses it on me.
“Christ, I’m coming,” he roars, his voice broken and with the accent, it’s so sexy.
His cock spurts ropes of hot cum on my tongue. I cup his balls to milk him further, sucking down every drop.
It’s too much and I cough it back up, coating his cock.
For a man who only let paid, professionals get him off like this, he loves my inexperienced mouth around his dick.
Maybe because my mouth has only been around his dick. Wes did me missionary once a week and that was it. No foreplay. Just mumbled he wanted sex and to get on my back. He stopped kissing me, too.
Now I feast on the power Balor gives me. How I own him in these moments.
He’s a mafia billionaire who answers to no one. I, however, have to get to school. Even if it means I don’t get the pleasure of his cock in my pussy right now.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ella. You are so fucking sexy.” He lifts me from his throbbing dick and pulls me on top of him.
His cock leaks and messes up my shirt, but I don’t care.
“I missed you this weekend.” He kisses me. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
His confession gives me an opening. I consider the time, but I’ll die if I don’t get this out.
“I missed you, too.” I take a deep breath. “Balor, how do you feel about me?”
His eyes pop open wide, his breath shallow while he’s silent.
Finally, his lips part. “I like you.”
“Oh.” My heart seizes.
Those words don’t reconcile with the guttural comments of how I’m his. And now no other man is to touch me. I wasn’t expecting him to use the L-word. I don’t know if I love him. I’ve never been in love.
But something’s at stake now.
Cupping my face, he says, “What’s wrong?”
With a tight throat, I whisper, “I’m pregnant.”
He blinks, a hint of restrained emotion tightening his jaw. “Okay. When did you find out?”
“Saturday.”
“I spoke to you Saturday, you didn’t mention it.” He sounds hurt.
We hadn’t been spending time together on the weekends. He’s usually working. We’re not open as a couple as far as my father.
“It’s not something I would have told you on the phone.”
“Does your father know?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t tell him before you.”
And he’d certainly know if my father knew.