All Chapters of The Billionaire's Secret Baby : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

I freeze, stopping myself dead.He’s barely an inch away from me now. Those gray eyes of his are flecked with yellow at the centers, like tiny sunbursts. I can’t look away. “Like who, Manila?” he whispers.“Like you,” I hear myself say, and I swear I can already feel his lips again, kissing me, claiming me…But he doesn’t move.I count breaths in the silence, listen to the racing pulse in my chest. He’s breathing faster too, I can feel it against my cheeks, hot as flames.But then his eyes break from mine, and he glances down at the table between us. “You don’t need to lie to me,” he murmurs faintly, pushing away from the table. He picks up our plates, but I catch his wrist and stand beside him, holding him there, my fingers burning where they wrap around his wrist.“I’m not lying. I’ve seen you, the way you are with the twins. I would never lie about that. You’re a good man, Cassius.”His eyes snap back to mine, white-hot, wide with surprise.“Even if you act cold sometimes,” I add,

I blink a little in confusion. “What do you mean?” When he doesn’t answer for a moment, when he still looks annoyed, almost angry, though clearly not at me, I tilt my head. “Look, Cassius, I…” I dart a glance toward the twins’ room. “I never got back on birth control after the twins. And, I can’t risk bringing another child into a situation like mine, single mother, working for a living, it’s a—”He interrupts me with a shake of his head. “It’s not you, Manila.” He locks eyes with me, and there’s a sorrow in them, so deep and profound that for a moment, I can’t respond. “I can’t get you pregnant. I’m infertile.”Shit. Suddenly that explains some things. The way he acts with the twins, especially. He must want to be a father, but… I frown, too, reaching up to caress his cheek gently. “I’m so sorry, Cassius.”He shakes his head, reaching up to catch my hand. He leans forward a little, and his hard length presses against my stomach. “Don’t be.” His eyes are on mine again, hot and searing

He slides me off his lap again, just in time for the limo to take off, and I actually huff in frustration. Damn him. He loves doing that—getting me all worked up, and then delaying, delaying, delaying.To be fair, though, when he does make me come, he more than makes up for all the time I’ve spent waiting. I shiver with delight at the memory of last night, when he spent an hour lathering me up in the shower, before he finally pinned me against the cool tile wall, lifted me off the ground, his hands digging into my ass, and fucked me against the shower wall, the hot water cascading down over us. He knows just how to angle it so his cock hits my G-spot every time, and pinned against the shower wall like that, his groin dug into my clit too, making me come doubly fast. When he decided I needed to come more than just once, he slid a hand between us to finger my clit as he continued to fuck me. I made it to three orgasms before he finally came inside me, his hot cum coating my pussy walls,

He laughs faintly through gritted teeth, jumping as my tongue touches his sensitive tip.“Fuck, Manila,” he finally says when he recovers his breath.I grin and slide to my feet beside him. “Hot enough for you?”His eyes flash, dangerous. “Not even close.” Before I can react, he lifts me off the floor. Carries me across the room and tosses me down on the mattress, pushing my legs wide apart.“My turn,” he says, his gaze hot.Yes, please.He slides between my legs, and before long, that strong, broad tongue of his is making me scream. I wrap my legs around his shoulders, fist my hands in his hair, let myself go. There’s no one around to hear—at least, no one I mind overhearing. No neighbors or babies sleeping. We can be as loud and as wild as we want.He makes me come three times, alternating between that sexy tongue of his and his fingers, curling them inside me expertly to hit just the right spot. By the time I finish the third time, he slides to his feet, his cock hard as a rock aga

Three missed calls. All since I got home last night. I stare at my cracked cell phone screen from the discomfort of my tiny, lumpy bed. It used to be fine, until I spent a few weeks sleeping on the comfortable, heavenly bed in Cassius’s room.My apartment used to feel warm enough, too, until I found myself missing the familiar sensation of his arm around my waist, his body snuggled up against mine.I squint through the morning gloom across the single bedroom at the twins’ crib. They’re still sleeping soundly, unaware that everything has changed. Unaware of my pain.But that’s good. This is the only way I can protect them from feeling the same kind of pain.The phone buzzes again in my hand. Him. Again. I tap Ignore, send it straight to voicemail, then hold down the power button until the phone shuts off. I can’t deal with this right now.Eventually, I’ll need to. I’ll have to decide if I can face him again. Take the job—only the job, not the life I once dared to think might come with