Carrying the Billionaire's Baby, Book 2: The Billionaire's Gift

CARRYING THE BILLIONAIRE’S
BABY, BOOK 2

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OUR STORY THUS
FAR

April O’Connor receives a
strange offer from enigmatic billionaire Alexander Atherstone. He
wants to hire her to be his surrogate and deliver him a child — but
he wants to impregnate her the old fashioned way. After some
convincing from Joanne Brook, Alexander’s most trusted advisor and
longtime assistant, April signs the billionaire’s contract. Their
first attempt to conceive results in a night of steamy passion. But
April isn’t pregnant yet — and she still has a lot of questions
about her mysterious new employer.

Carrying the Billionaire’s
Baby, Book One: The Billionaire’s Offer is available now — visit
gwendolynbridges.com
for
purchase details.

Those first few precious weeks were some of the best of my
life.

We quickly developed a
routine. I’d put on one of the designer dresses he had given me and
complete the look with dark sunglasses so big that they covered
half of my face. There was really no need for secrecy — It’s not
like anyone would ever identify me and expect the truth. But I
liked to play up the clandestine nature of our meetings. I guess I
had always wanted to be a secret agent. This was the closest I was
likely to ever get.

And so April O’Connor,
erstwhile secret agent, would steal into the big Atherstone tower,
looking nonchalant with my sunglasses and fancy dress. I tried to
wear heels a couple of times but could never make it from the door
to the elevator without stumbling. So I stuck with my flats.
Secret agents always wear
flats
, I told myself. It seemed like
something that might be true.

I’d nod at Darryl, the
nice man who stands beside the billionaire’s private elevator.
That’s all he did every day — stood there. I tried to ask him once
if he deals with a lot of visitors on a day-to-day basis. Darryl
just shrugged. Then I asked him if the job paid well. To that,
Darryl just grinned.

On an average day, he’d
simply nod and produce a small silver key. Placed into a lock above
the elevator buttons, the door would open and I’d step into my
direct private transportation to the building’s top floor
penthouse. A penthouse that belonged to billionaire Alexander
Atherstone, the man who was working hard to put his child in me —
to impregnate me the old fashioned way.

The first few visits, I’d
be met by his personal assistant and confidante, Joanne Brook. She
was a reserved older woman who still insisted that I call her Ms.
Brook. She’d make me wait while she fetched Alexander from another
room. But after a few visits, I no longer saw her. I knew she was
probably somewhere in the sprawling penthouse, but she stopped
greeting me. Instead, there was just him.

The elevator would
ding
and I’d step off,
and there he’d be — Alexander, my billionaire. He always looked
completely composed in a well-cut suit, his hair — dark with just a
hint of grey — always perfect. He wore an elegant mixture of
cologne that didn’t overpower but was so unique that just a hint of
it reminded me strongly of him.

After days of meeting and
making love — of trying to conceive — any lingering awkwardness
about what we were doing faded and was replaced by a kind of primal
passion. I stepped out of the elevator one day and was taken by
surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to
him, our lips instinctively finding each other and meeting in a
tender but passionate kiss.

I hadn’t expected so much
kissing when I had signed the contract to carry the billionaire’s
child. Alexander always struck me as so by-the-book and
business-like that I couldn’t imagine this arrangement leading that
kind of passion. But I had been wrong. There was something about
how his eyes focused so clearly on me, and the way he kissed me — I
had to admit that in my weaker moments I wondered if this thing
between me and him was more than a simple contractual
arrangement.

But I always pushed those
thoughts out of my mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. My
job was to get him aroused and ready so that he could put his seed
inside of me.

On one particularly
perfect afternoon, the sun streaming through the windows of the
giant living room in the penthouse, he wasted no time at all,
kissing me passionately and pushing me up against the wall next to
the elevator. His roving hands drew down the sides of my dress, his
every touch sending shivers through me.

“Hey,” I whispered, as our
mouths broke apart briefly.

“Hey yourself,” he said,
his hand wrapping around my back to find the zipper of my dress.
“Arms up,” he ordered.

I had gotten used to this
— the way he took control and told me exactly what to do. Truth be
told, I loved it.

I complied with the
command, and he pulled the dress over my head, tossing it to the
side. I was wearing sheer black lingerie underneath — something
that I had never really thought to do before, but had wanted to do
specifically for him. It didn’t hurt that the money had had
provided for expenses was more than enough to cover my rent, food
and medical bills — I had enough left over for special
treats.

He stepped back and looked
me up and down, passion in his eyes. Then he gave me that trademark
half-smile of his, so quick that you had to know him to notice
it.

“Step over to the window,”
he commanded, and so I walked over to the side of the room,
standing next to the floor-to-ceiling windows that lined one side
of the room in the penthouse. Afternoon sun streaked in, bathing my
nearly-naked body in natural light.

“Turn around,” he
demanded. “Put your hands on the glass.”

I didn’t think twice,
turning my back to him and sliding my hands against the
nearly-invisible glass wall, leaning forward so that my forehead
was pressed against the window. I could see everything from up here
in the billionaire’s house — thousands of people walking on the
streets below and beyond that a great big expanse of water. It was
the kind of view that could make someone feel
contemplative.

But Alexander gave me no
time to contemplate anything. Instead, he quickly stepped toward
me. I heard a ruffle as he shed his suit jacket, then a jangle as
his belt buckle hit the floor. Just as I heard a soft zip — his
pants opening — I felt him pressed against me.

“I’m going to fuck you
now,” he said, his lips so close to my ear I could feel his every
word.

He gripped my thighs and
pushed them apart, my hands sliding against the glass of the
window. He didn’t even take the time to pull my panties down —
instead, he just pulled them aside and pulled down the waistband of
his boxer briefs. I felt the head of his cock press against my soft
folds, and spread my legs a little wider to help perfectly position
him. This was no time to play coy, I realized — he wanted to be
inside me and I would be a fool to pretend I didn’t want the
same.

He entered me quickly, his
manhood sliding deep into my pussy. He worked his way in harder and
deeper, pressing in as far as he could take his thick, hard cock.
When he was pressed in almost to the base of his cock, he reached
around and caressed my breasts, pulling down the cups of my bra and
touching my nipples.
He’s wasting no time
today
, I thought, as he tweaked my nipples
and pressed himself in deeper.

I looked down over the
city as the billionaire started to fuck me. The idea that I was
totally exposed up here — my panties pulled aside and my bra askew
— only increased my arousal.

“Fuck me,” I whispered, as
he pulled his cock out of my cunt almost completely. At my urging ,
he shoved it back inside.

But he wasn’t content to
fuck me just the one way that day.

“Turn around and face me,”
he commanded. And I did, pressing my back against the window. He
quickly gripped his hands underneath my thighs and suddenly lifted
me, holding me up so I was pressed against the glass, my breasts
pressed against his unbuttoned shirt — our bare skin felt warm
against each other.

Then, still holding me up,
he pulled the soaked material of my panties aside again, and
positioned his cock against my wet lips.

He said nothing as he
thrust into me, but our eyes met and locked together. We stared
deeply at one another. I wrapped my arms around him, caressing his
back through the thin material of his dress shirt as he pushed me
hard against the glass window, lifting me higher and then impaling
me on his hard cock. I rode him with all that I had, our eyes
locked in an intense arrangement of passion.

Thrusting his cock deep
into my cunt, he shuddered in pleasure and brought his mouth to my
breasts, sucking my exposed nipples pushed up against the material
of my bra. I moaned and responded back, letting my mouth find his
neck and kissing him up and down, my tongue lingering on his
skin.

That only drove him
further into lust. I knew he wanted to come.

“Give it to me,” I
whispered, licking at his earlobe. “Shoot your cum inside me.
Impregnate me. I want your seed.”

My words seemed to set him
off because he wasted no time in lifting me high into the air and
then thrusting me down hard on his hot throbbing cock. I felt the
tremors building quickly along his shaft and soon he was pulsating
hard inside me, and moaning against me. He brought his mouth to
mine as I felt the first few jets of his warm cum shoot deep into
my cunt.

“Yes,” I said quietly, as
he kissed me and worked through the tremors of his orgasm, my ass
pressed against the window. “Give me all your cum.”

He complied. His orgasm
rolled through him again and again, to the point where I felt like
the cum would never stop. But finally he subsided, falling back
with a satisfied sigh into one of the chairs in the living room. I
slid down the window and lay on the floor, not even wanting to
waste the time it would take to find a proper place to rest, and
raised my legs and hips into the air, pulling at my panties so that
they covered me again — I wanted to seal in his cum.

I elevated my hips and
angled myself in the floor so that his cum would drop into me. This
was such a common part of our routine now that it felt natural. I
shut my eyes as I felt the thick liquid dripping inside of
me.

He kept his eyes on me,
sitting back in the chair, his shirt unbuttoned and his semi-hard
cock still hanging out the fly of his pants.

“Mmmm,” I said, hoping I
could coax him into a second round. I let a hand drift down my
chest, tweaking my nipple which still poked over the cups of my bra
and then descending further, beneath the waistband of my panties. I
cupped my mound and then, finding small droplets of his cum on my
thighs, I scooped them up with my fingers and pushed deep inside. I
couldn’t let a bit of him go to waste.

I touched myself idly,
watching as he soon brought his own hand down to stroke his cock
with light touches. Each one made him a little bit harder. Keeping
my hand on my pussy, I crawled over toward him with a hungry look
on my face.
There’s definitely going to be
a round two
, I thought, eyeing his rigid
member.

I positioned myself on all
fours in front of him and he pushed his cock toward my mouth. I
leaned forward and gave it a tentatively kiss, letting my tongue
drift across his head. He shuddered with pleasure.

I pressed two fingers into
my pussy and took more of him into my mouth. I couldn’t wait to
feel him inside of me again, I thought, swirling my tongue up and
down his shaft. I couldn’t believe how much I yearned for it. I had
to remind myself, in moments like that, that what Alexander and I
had together was still nothing more than a contractual arrangement.
That while these few weeks of trying to get me pregnant had been
fun, they’d soon end. I couldn’t allow myself to hold out hope that
he still didn’t be interested in me — in this — once I had his baby
inside of me.