Her Swedish Billionaire's Baby: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance For Adults (7 page)

"Please, Samara,
please," Bjorn begged.

Samara unbuttoned
Bjorn's jeans, lowered the zipper slowly; so slowly. She slid the
jeans down, had Bjorn step out of them. Samara licked her lips as she
stared at where Bjorn's dick was trapped in his boxer-briefs, a wet
spot already there.

Bjorn's head fell
back against the wall, eyes slammed shut, as Samara pressed open
mouthed kisses to Bjorn's clothed dick.

"Fuck," he
breathed; he wanted to look so badly, wanted to see how sinful, how
absolutely beautiful Samara looked as she hungrily mouthed at Bjorn's
dick. But he knew if he did, this would be over really, really soon.

Finally, Samara
pulled down Bjorn's briefs.

Bjorn kicked his
underwear out of the way, didn't care where they ended up, and Samara
went to fucking town. She started with enthusiastic little kitten
licks at Bjorn's slit, then just swallowed Bjorn's dick, inch by
inch.

Bjorn groaned. "Holy
fuck, Samara..."

Bjorn got lost in the
sensation, the pleasure. It had been the dry spell he’d been
undergoing. Burying one’s father tended to take the joy out of
fucking. But this girl; this smart MBA with her impossibly long legs
and hero worship…

Today was his lucky
day.

Samara pulled off and
gave it one last lick, from base to tip, then gave Bjorn's balls a
tongue-bath. She stopped and all of a sudden got a shy look on her
face as she met Bjorn's gaze.

"You could...you
said before you wanted to...to..." Samara stuttered adorably.

Bjorn tilted his
head, curious.

"You said you
wanted to cumonmyface. And I want you to."

Bjorn groaned; he
didn't think it was possible to be this aroused. "You want that,
baby? Want me to cum on you? Mark you all up...fuck." He started
stroking his dick, knew it wouldn't take long.

"Yeah, Bjorn,"
Samara moaned as she looked up at Bjorn with lust-blown eyes, and
they never broke eye contact.

Bjorn's strokes got
faster, filth pouring out of his mouth as his orgasm drew nearer.
"Fuck, Samara. I’m going to come all over that pretty
face, baby. So close, you sucked me so well, baby. So fucking good.
Gonna let me fuck you later? Huh? Let me lick you open and fuck you
nice and slow, make you come on my cock..."

Samara nodded
emphatically.

Bjorn came, and it
hit Samara's cheek, hit her mouth, dripped down onto her chin. Samara
licked her lips, moaned. She leaned forward and licked Bjorn's cock
clean, and Bjorn shuddered, aftershocks coursing through him, and his
oversensitive dick being lavished felt too good, but it was too much.

Bjorn dropped to his
knees, pulled Samara into a dirty kiss, tasted his own cum; it was
hotter than it should've been. Samara pulled away, and Bjorn realized
Samara hadn't come yet.

"Fuck, sorry,"
Bjorn said, reaching his hand out to help.

"No!"
Samara exclaimed, grabbing Bjorn's hand.

Bjorn looked at her
quizzically.

Samara blushed. "I
just...I can wait...want you to fuck me."

Bjorn knew it
wouldn't take long to get hard again at this rate. "Yeah, yeah,
okay. Let's get on the bed, though," Bjorn laughed.

Samara's blush
deepened as she realized they were still on the chairs; they had
barely closed the door of the suite before Samara had dropped to her
knees, full of lust and courage.

Samara was spread out
naked on the bed, looking like an invitation to sin. Bjorn wholly
accepted.

"You're so
beautiful, Samara," Bjorn breathed.

"Bjorn, come
on," Samara whined.

Bjorn gazed down at
her laid out for him like a present. Her short black dress was pulled
right up to her waist, leaving her pussy on display in her virginal
white panties. He put his hand on the v of her legs, pressing down
against her center, rubbing in gentle circles. He couldn’t wait
to plunder her; she seemed ripe for the taking. Hair in disarray and
dress askew. One nipple was peeking out of her dress and he wanted to
lean down and suck it into his mouth.

There wasn't a word
to describe how right it felt.

Bjorn joined Samara
on the bed, both naked and hard.

Samara met him
halfway, and their tongues tangled together, kissing sweet and slow,
like they had all the time in the world. Bjorn got on top of Samara,
and was mesmerized at the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, body spread
out, so pliant and gorgeous underneath him.

"You’re
beautiful," Bjorn murmured, then trailed open-mouthed kisses
down Samara's body, paying close attention to her sensitive nipples.

Samara moaned,
clutched at Bjorn's hair in an attempt to make Bjorn continue his
ministrations. "You’re beautiful too," Samara
replied, breathless.

Bjorn smirked. This
was too much fun, getting Samara all riled up.

"Bjorn--"
Samara trailed off when she felt Bjorn's tongue on her hole.

Bjorn smirked when
Samara made a noise in the back of her throat.

"Bjorn, oh
my...oh my God," Samara whimpered.

Bjorn could see her
thighs trembling, her pussy was leaking like a faucet, and felt the
room get 20 degrees hotter. Could Samara come just from this?

Fuck, he wanted to
find out. But, he was hard again and Samara had been aroused for
awhile now, might explode if they didn't get this show on the road,
so he decided he'd test that theory out later.

He grabbed the bottle
of lube from the bedside table, slicked his fingers up and pressed
one at Samara's entrance. He was shocked when Samara sank right down
on it and moaned for more.

"Samara, fuck.
What--how--?" Bjorn couldn't get a whole sentence out, too
focused on how sexy Samara looked riding his finger, how tight Samara
was around him, and fuck--

"That's fucking
hot," Bjorn breathed.

Bjorn slid another
finger in, relished Samara's drawn out moan as he started fucking his
fingers in and out, spreading Samara wide.

"Fuck, Bjorn.
Wanted this for so long. I never imagined it would be you, wanted it
to be someone like you, someone I really really wanted. Please,
Bjorn," Samara babbled, nearly out of her mind with pleasure as
Bjorn hit her sweet spot.

Bjorn groaned. "Yeah,
babe. Gonna give you what you want. Gonna fuck you; I'll make it so
good, baby."

Bjorn reached towards
the bedside table again, but Samara grabbed his hand to stop him.

"Just you. Wanna
feel you. Please."

Bjorn thought about
that tight heat, wrapped all around him, squeezing his bare cock.
"'Kay," Bjorn quickly agreed, nodding.

He lined himself up,
met Samara's eyes, and pushed in.

They both moaned.

Fuck, it was so much
better than he'd ever imagined.

He kept still, gave
Samara time to adjust, and time to get himself under control.

Samara nodded, "You
can move..."

Bjorn started out
slow, pulled out and gently thrust back in but Samara wasn't having
it. She spread her legs as far as they would go, and pressed a kiss
to Bjorn's lips. She murmured, "Harder, Bjorn. Fuck me."

Bjorn happily obeyed.
He pulled out, thrust back in as hard as he could, sure to hit
Samara's sweet spot, spurred on by Samara's moans.

Samara was noisy and
Bjorn fucking loved it. Breathless moans and gasps and hot little
sounds punched out of him with every thrust.

It was, by far, the
best sex Bjorn ever had.

Bjorn reached between
them, stroked Samara, desperate not to come until Samara did.

It only took four
strokes and Samara was coming, her muscles clenching and fluttering
around Bjorn until...

"Fuck,"
Bjorn yelled as he thrust one last time and came, marking up Samara's
insides.

He gently pulled out
and flopped down next to Samara, who had a sated smile on her face.

Bjorn got up to grab
some tissues, cleaned himself and Samara, then flopped back down on
the bed. Samara immediately curled around him, tangling their legs
together and snuggling up to Bjorn's chest.

Bjorn carded his
fingers through Samara's hair. "You were great," he
murmured affectionately.

Samara smiled,
half-asleep. "Thanks, Bjorn."

Bjorn pressed a kiss
to Samara's forehead, letting out a happy little sigh.

It couldn't possibly
get any better than this.

*****

Alison
was pouring drinks at the bar when she spied her dad in the corner.
He was hustling pool in the corner; pretending to be drunker than he
was. She rolled her eyes and turned away. The men he was playing with
were some serious badasses; if Chris wanted to risk his life trying
to get money from them, that was
his
problem. Alison was staying out of it. She was legit now; had a pay
check and everything. Maybe next month, when she had some vacation
days she’d go down to California and look her sister up.

She was mixing a
margarita when she felt a presence on her right and she didn’t
have to turn around to know it was her father.

“
Baaartender?”
he called. “Give my good friends here some drinks on me.”

Alison ignored him;
she knew he had no intention of paying for those drinks and she
didn’t plan to get stuck with the bill.

“
Excuuuse
me! Bartender?” he called.

“
Yo
bartender,” a new voice said and Alison couldn’t keep
ignoring them. She turned around and spread her lips wide in a parody
of a smile.

“
What
can I getcha gentlemen?” she asked.

*****

“
You
did
what
?”
Amy asked, mouth open as she lay curled on Samara’s bed, legs
crossed; her tiny pyjama shorts showing off her shorter yet no less
shapely legs.

“
I
don’t even know what happened. One minute we were sitting down,
discussing…I don’t even know. His dad I think. The next
minute I’m on my knees in his suite or berth or whatever you
call a bedroom when it's on a boat, and his dick is in my mouth.”

“
Wow.
How…I mean. God; Samara you’ve practically been a virgin
for the past six years and now you’re slutting it up with some
shipping magnate?”

“
I
wouldn’t exactly say slutting. It was more like…we had a
connection.”

“
A
connection? Like did he ask to see you again?” Amy asked her
whole body radiating scepticism.

“
No…I
mean I don’t expect…it's not like,” Samara
shrugged. “He called me beautiful.”

“
Wow,
he called you beautiful? That’s great Samara. But even you know
it doesn’t necessarily mean anything. I mean you
know
that, don’t you?”

*****

Samara's heart raced
as she nearly sprinted down the stairs from the Girls' Dorm to the
Common Room. Mentally she was counting and re-counting and
calculating days and percentages as her thoughts whizzed over the
conclusion that her brain was most certainly not jumping to.

Not twenty minutes
ago Samara had been sitting peacefully in her dorm laughing with Mary
and Alice about their respective boyfriends. She'd been having a good
time, taking her mind off of the fact that she hadn't heard from
Bjorn since their night on the boat. That was, until Marlene had
walked in, swimming gear in tow, complaining about how the coach had
made her swim through her cramps, and Samara should bite his head off
for it because Marlene was in too much pain to do it. The girls
laughed, and Samara's stomach dropped seven floors.

Yes, Samara was
having a wonderful morning until she realized she was late.

Three weeks late.

"Oh bloody
hell,"

And that brought her
to the sprinting down the stairs to the Common Room, where she hoped
she would find Amy. Stupidly, she thought she might be back at the
same time as Marlene, but she always stayed late to clean up. She
started towards the stairs, running flat into Amy as she ambled up
the stairs.

"Oi, watch it,"
Amy Whitaker grinned up at the taller form of Samara, until she
seemed to pick up on her stress. She dropped her hands on her
shoulders and took a step back. "You alright?"

"Fine, I’m
good,” Samara said taking hold of Amy’s hand and pulling
her towards an unoccupied corner.

"No seriously,
Khaled, what's wrong?"

Staring at Amy, she
weight her options. She could either insist it was nothing and go
back up to her dorm and face the same questions from her dorm mates,
or she could tell her best friend (who had been very critical of her
behavior with Bjorn already) that she was possibly, maybe, at least
forty percent sure, pregnant.

Some part of her felt
bad Amy would know before Bjorn.

"I'll tell you,
but-" She glanced around the crowded Common Room. "-not
here."

Amy nodded, backing
up to head for the stairs again. "I know the perfect place."

She was talking about
the Starbucks across campus of course; haven of coffee lovers
everywhere. Samara figured that out when they walked the all too
familiar path. They entered the café and Samara headed to
their familiar corner.

"Right."
Samara said, pushing her way into the booth that looked like a
comfortable sitting room. She sat down on the edge of the couch and
waited for Amy to follow. It didn't take long and she soon joined
her.

"Are you going
to tell me now?" She jabbed at her leg with her finger.

"I'm, well,
see-that is," She sighed, chewing on her lip and wondering if
she'd ever get the words out. "I think I’m pregnant?"

Silence.

"Bloody hell,"
Amy muttered.

"Not for three
weeks," That almost got her a smile.