Page 22 of The Billionaire's Buy-In

“It’s fine. I know I’m huge.” I assure everyone, not wanting my grumpy guy to go alpha ape on his friends. “Comes with the territory.”

“I miss my baby girl, but this is so nice,” Grace sighs happily as she sips her drink, lounging against the deck cushions. They have a beautiful one-year-old little girl who is staying home with Grace’s mother. She agreed to babysit this weekend so they could get away. “We needed some ‘us’ time.” She rubs Ty’s leg affectionately.

“Damn right we did!” Ash says from his own deck chair, holding up his beer in a toast. “Kids are exhausting.” He groans as if he, too, has had a lot of sleepless nights.

Everyone rolls their eyes. If Ash has had sleepless nights, it's certainly not from having kids. The act of making them, maybe. But he's not ready to be tied down yet.

“Think she means her and Ty, asshat,” Chord rolls his eyes. “You weren’t included. You just happened to have the boat.”

“Ouch, man, that hurts.” Ash holds a hand to his chest, feigning a wound. “I thought I was part of this merry family of couples. Now I just feel awkward.” To listen to him, you would think his feelings were hurt, but Ash is immune to Ty and Chord’s insults. It's their thing, giving each other shit. It’s like they are still in college and not grown ass men with careers and money in the bank.

“You’re always family, Ash. After all, you’re my baby uncle,” I wink at him affectionately, blowing him a kiss as I rub my growing belly. “I’m actually thinking of naming our kid Ashford.”

“That’s why you are my favorite, Abbie!” he points at me excitedly. “No one else appreciates me like you do. Just think, a little baby mobster named after me…” He pretends to wipe a tear from his eyes.

Grace acts offended at Ash’s comment. “Hey, you said I was your favorite last week!”

“But she’s having my namesake, so you now rank lower on the totem pole, sorry sweets,” he says with a straight face, shrugging his shoulders, flicking his sunglasses back over his eyes and reclining once again on the lounger.

“My child will not be named Ashford. End of story.” Chord says abruptly. He tucks me under his arm, ushering me through the large glass deck doors. “We’ll see everyone later. Nap time for this one.”

“You kids don’t be doing naughty things on my boat. No one needs to hear that shit!” Ash yells after us and everyone laughs because they know that’s exactly what Chord has planned for our “nap”. We also know there’s no way anyone could ever hear anything on a boat this size.

The five of us took a small getaway for the weekend, enjoying Ash’s new “boat”, which is actually a mega-yacht with a small crew, including a captain, a cook, stewards, and a few deckhands. One of many boats he owns as apparently, collecting boats is his hobby. Billionaire's can afford expensive hobbies I guess. We all know he really needs to get a girlfriend to take up more of his time. He’s such a good guy with a big heart, he deserves a nice woman to spoil him rotten.

This weekend, Chord didn’t want me to go out on the boat at all, but Ash agreed we wouldn’t venture far from land, and I agreed to keeping a life jacket within arms’ reach. The overprotective grump wanted me to wear the big orange monstrosity the entire time, but I compromised. This pregnancy has sent his daddy instincts into overdrive, and he’s wearing me out.

“Oh, we are definitely doing naughty things,” he says huskily in my ear as we make our way below deck to our cabin. Well, it's not so much a cabin as a well-appointed stateroom. This is a hell of a yacht.

“But I stink like sunscreen and sweat,” I whine, knowing what he’s going to say next and I'm down for it.

“Not that I mind a little sweat, but not a problem because I plan on getting you naked, soaping you up, then fucking you senseless, so you can take a decent nap.” He guides me into our room and I hear the click of the lock.

“Now, that’s a plan I can get on board with,” I say as I turn, reaching for the ties of my bikini top. Undoing them, I let the top fall, exposing my heavy, swollen breasts to his hungry gaze.

He growls in appreciation. “Fuck, firecracker. I love your tits all the time, but pregnant, they are amazing.” Grasping one in each hand, he bends to take one swollen tip in his mouth, lavishing it with his tongue and sucking gently. He then does the same for the other. “I can’t wait to taste your milk. It’s going to be so hot. Not sure I’m going to want to share.”

I thread my fingers through his hair, loving the feel of his mouth on my sensitive nipples. He doesn’t even have to fuck me. I could come from this alone.

“Chord,” I moan his name loudly, not even caring if anyone can hear me, which I’m certain they can’t.

He straightens, grasps my shoulders, turns me in the direction of the bathroom, and slaps my ass. “Get in the shower.” I love it when he’s bossy, and he knows it.

He tugs off his swim shorts as I untie the strings at my hips, which hold my bottoms in place. They drop to the floor. Taking a moment, as we both stand naked, I admire my hot husband. God, he’s an amazing specimen. For a man in his late thirties, Chord’s physique is that of a much younger man. His bulging biceps, tattooed arms, chiseled abs and pectoral muscles slick and glistening with sunscreen oil make me lick my lips in anticipation. Don’t even get me started on his long, thick cock standing at attention, begging for me to take it in my mouth.

“No brat, you are not sucking my cock,” he tells me because he knows me too well. I love to take him in my mouth because the taste of him is addictive, but watching this powerful, grumpy man unravel is insanely hot. Rarely, does he let me take control, so being responsible for his moment of weakness and pleasure, turns me on so much I could suck his cock all day and night.

I feel like a whale compared to his toned body. My belly is large and obnoxious, already always in the way when we try to make love. We have had to become pretty creative in the last month. Feeling self-conscience, I turn to go into the shower, turning it on, feeling the spray cool down my warm, sun-pink skin.

He follows me inside, wrapping me in his arms, tugging me back into his hard erection. I can feel it, long and hard throbbing against my back. He slides his hands around my waist, reaching under my belly, and cradling it in his hands. The gesture is so incredibly sweet. It also feels good, because it relieves some of the weight on my pelvic floor. Tipping my head back against his shoulder, I relax into his embrace, just enjoying the feel of his arms, the hot water, and the moment.

“I love your body when you’re pregnant, sweetheart. If I could, I would breed you constantly, keeping you pregnant all the time. Then, people know you are taken. They’d know you are the mother to my children and all mine.” He kisses my head.

He then lovingly washes the sunscreen from my body, then his. I do nothing to contribute, just stand under the warm spray of the shower as he massages my scalp and shampoos my hair. This big scary mafia man is so gentle and caring. No one would ever believe this is the same man he portrays to the public.

“I love you,” I turn, getting as close to him as I can with my stomach in the way, wrapping my arms around him and nuzzling his chest, soaking in his strength.

“I love you, firecracker. So fucking much it hurts.” I can feel him shudder with emotion, and his arms tighten almost painfully around me. “I can’t imagine this life without you. You’ve given me so much. Shown me what it means to deeply love another person. Now, you are going to make me a father. I never thought I’d have this life.”

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