Bought By The Billionaire novel Chapter 18

With my Master sucking and nibbling at my bottom lip, my heart begins to pound as I heat within, a familiar moistness between my legs. He trails kisses down my neck, and then struggling briefly with the buttons of my blouse, he unhooks my bra with one hand, cupping a breast with the other to suckle. As he sucks and nips at my puckering nipple, I am working at his shirt. I want his naked skin and the smell of his maleness all over me.

Sitting up, he helps me with the shirt, simply pulling it up over his head before discarding it onto the floor, and then shucks off his trousers and shoes. His now naked body, bronzed, lean muscled, and lightly haired, smells deliciously musky. I have never been certain if this is his personal scent or some aftershave that he uses, but it is deliciously his scent, and right now, it feels like my personal property.

He slides fingers behind my skirt to unzip it and slip it off me. Wearing nothing but white lacy panties, I lie back for him, arching my stomach and hips up to him as he plants kisses between my breasts, down my belly, and beyond.

His fingers slip between my legs, pausing briefly to ply my thighs apart, his fingers stroking the delicate inner skin. I am already wet as his fingers part my labia, exploring my swelling nub, sliding back the hood to reveal the sensitive heart within.

He is gentle and tender, working to arouse, and succeeding, and I curve and strain to meet him, my ardour becoming hard to control.

“Please, Master. I want you inside me.”

“Easily done,” he says, smiling as he repositions himself.

I watch his magnificent erection, which is quivering slightly against the flat of his abdomen. Lowering himself onto me, he pauses momentarily, allowing me to stroke his length and to kiss away the trembling droplet at the tip. Licking his salty and sweet honey from my lips, I draw him towards me as he lies full-length atop me, the tip of his cock brushing my pussy. He holds himself there, not entering, but teasing and arousing, knowing well that I want him to plunge inside me. Pressing lightly in, he then withdraws, instead kissing me, open-mouthed, with one hand kneading one of my breasts and tweaking the nipple.

“Oh, God, Master! Please get inside me. I want you inside me.”

He whispers into my ear, “All in good time. Women don't always cum from penetration only. I want to make sure that you do.” And he continues his plying and rolling of first one nipple, and then the other.

I am wild with desire. Every time his cock leans in towards me, I rock my hips towards him, trying to swallow him into my depths, but always he withdraws, leaving me shaking with anticipation. I am yearning to have him fill me, aching to have his length fill my pussy. My juices are flowing freely, and the sheets are damp below me. Sweat glistens on my chest, my skin slick and shiny in the half-light.

Finally, when I think I might pass out if he makes me wait any longer, he first probes my pussy, then smoothly sheathes himself inside me. I gasp and cry out, my head flinging back and then forward, my eyes closing instinctively. I barely know what to do with myself from the ecstasy I am feeling from within.

In he slides and out, in and out; neither hard nor gentle, but rather steady and even, and smooth as silk, with a heartbeat rhythm. My own heartbeat is wild, my pulse banging wildly at my temples with the gliding thrust of my Master filling my pussy, making me moan and pant.

Opening my eyes, my Master is gazing down watching my face as he works me. His eyes are deep and intense. I could drown in them. His teeth lightly gritted, I see a sheen of perspiration as he draws me to my climax.

It begins, rising from my core, rippling out through the muscles of my belly and thighs. As I convulse inside, my Master responds by thrusting hard, in his pulse-beat rhythm, my cunt squeezing his cock as I erupt into a mind-blowing orgasm.

Through my physical rapture, I am conscious of his arms encircling me as I cum, and his kisses on my neck and breasts. Gliding down once more from the heights of passion, I feel warm breath by my face and fingers running through my hair.

My Master does not cease his thrusting. Kissing me briefly on the lips, he raises himself over me as he thrusts, looking down on me as he builds to his own climax. And now, I stroke his face, reaching up to caress his beautiful features as I move with his rhythm, trying to gift him what he just gifted me. With my pussy, I relax as he glides in, squeeze as he pulls out, trying to make it good for him. His sweat drips onto my breasts, trickling over my hot damp skin, anointing me with his scent.

With a gasp, his eyes shut tightly, and he shudders into his orgasm, groaning as his hips buck, his cock pressing deeply inside me. With his chest heaving, he collapses on top of me and simply lies there as I comb his damp hair with my fingers, kissing the side of his face.

For a long minute, we lie there, unmoving, my mind full of glory. My Master has not said that he loves me, but he is not angry with me. Perhaps I can yet hope for more than a contract …?

“Master?”

He pulls himself up onto an elbow, once more looking down on me. His smile is like sweet honey to me. “Yes, Elizabeth?”

“What just happened?”