Hired a Gigolo, Got a Billionaire

Chapter 442 Madeline's POV My mouth was dry. Every beat of my heart thundered in my ears, a primitive response to the heat and desire radiating from him. Pregnancy hormones already had me living in a near-constant state of heightened sensitivity, and now they'd found their spark. A heat different from the fireplace began to bloom inside me, a sweet, unbearable tension low in my belly. "Control yourself?" The words slipped out as a rough whisper, almost a challenge. "Who said I want you to?" It was like I'd cut the rope holding him back.

His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating until they nearly swallowed the blue. A low sound, almost a growl, escaped his throat before his hands, big, warm, steady, framed my face. His thumbs brushed my cheeks, and then his mouth was on mine. It wasn't a gentle kiss. It wasn't exploratory. It was a statement. Possession. His lips moved against mine with a hunger held back for far too long, like a wild animal finally set loose. I gave in instantly, my hands sliding up to bury themselves in his dark hair, pulling him closer until there was no space left for air between our bodies.

He tasted like coffee, red wine, and something unmistakably Marcus. A flavor my body recognized instantly, craved like home. He broke the kiss to breathe, his breaths uneven, his forehead resting against mine. "Are you sure?" he whispered, his voice thick with a vulnerability that broke my heart and set me on fire at the same time. "Madeline... I want you so badly it hurts. But I won't go any further than you want." Instead of answering, I captured his mouth again, this kiss more urgent, more demanding.

My hands slid down from his hair, exploring the breadth of his shoulders, the solid strength of his chest beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. I could feel his muscles tightening under my touch, every part of him taut with the same need burning through me. "I want you, Marcus," I murmured against his lips, my words blurred with desire. "Please. Make me feel you." He groaned, deep and raw, and then his hands lifted me as if I weighed nothing. In his strong arms, maybe I didn't.

down with a reverence that clashed beautifully with the ferocity of his kiss. The mattress dipped beneath me, and then he was over me, his body a delicious, grounding weight that anchored me to the moment. His mouth found

my neck to my collarbone, where he buried his face and inhaled deeply. "You smell so good. Your scent has always driven me crazy." My hands clutched at his shoulders, fingers digging into hard muscle beneath his shirt. I arched into him, a primal need taking over. I needed to be closer. Needed fewer clothes. Needed him. "Marcus... the clothes..." I begged,

bra underneath. Practical. Completely unsexy. But the way he looked at me, like I was wearing the most exquisite lingerie in the world, made my blood sing. "God, Madeline," he

kneeling between my legs, and his hands found the waistband of my pants. His fingers undid the button, then slowly, torturously, dragged the zipper down. He pulled my pants off along with my underwear, and I lifted my hips to help, a hot flush washing over my entire body under his intense, appreciative gaze.

in my eyes. Then his hands joined his mouth, caressing the softly rounded skin as if greeting our child, accepting every change in my body. That sweetness was quickly overtaken by a powerful wave of pure desire when his hands slid higher and found my breasts. They were fuller now, more sensitive, and his knowing touch pulled a moan from my