Bought By The Billionaire novel Chapter 19

… tonight will be the ‘unwrapping’ of my Master’s birthday present.

Because my hair is foxy, I do not care for wearing red as a colour. Perhaps it is the colour of love, but for me, it clashes. Instead, I have chosen green, a sumptuous deep shade in satin and lace, that sets off my Celtic pale skin, and complements my hair.

So, I am wearing a moss green bodice, underwired to support my large, and otherwise slightly pendulous breasts, and to enhance my cleavage. It is made up at the front with ‘untie me’ laces. The matching panties are scanty, and also of the tie kind. Carefully I make up the panty side laces into a bow, of the sort that might easily be undone by, say, teeth. My stockings are of the lacy-topped, hold-up variety, revealing the smooth curve of my thighs, inviting entry within.

Over the whole, I am wearing a full-length sheer silk negligee, also green: almost, but not quite transparent, hinting at what lies beneath, without actually revealing it.

My bedroom is carefully laid out and I hope that my Master will be pleased. There are candles and strategically placed cuffs, ropes and silk scarfs. I have champagne waiting in an ice bucket, and something to eat; tiny, bite-sized smoked salmon sandwiches, followed by strawberries and cream.

The door buzzes. “Hello, Elizabeth. It’s me.” Stepping into the lounge, my Master stops in mid-stride as he sees me.

He stands there smiling, teeth showing white against his tan, the smile growing broader and more approving as he takes in my outfit. Dressed in his usual out-of-work casual white linen shirt and black jeans, he looks, as always, just amazing.

“Happy Birthday,” I say, hand on hip, posing a little for him.

“Indeed,” he says. “a very Happy Birthday for me. It’s looking promising so far.”

He steps forward and grabs me by the wrist, pulling me under the ceiling lights. “Come here. I want to look at you.” Then spinning me around by the shoulders, he stands back for a better view.

His blue, blue eyes are deep and the smile has been replaced by intensity. I can almost taste his lust, rising to match my own spiralling passion, and I revel in it. This man is my Master, and oddly, that gives me a kind of power over him. I will do anything he asks, and I know that in return, he will never ask of me anything I will not willingly give.

“Would you like something to drink?” I ask. “Something to eat?”

“A drink,” he replies. “Eating can wait a while. I have other appetites right now.”

He sits, sprawling slightly on the settee while I open the champagne, holding a steady gaze with his eyes while I pop the cork. As I serve him a glass, almost negligently he leans back, waving me to stand before him. “Turn around,” he commands as, head back, his eyes narrow almost to slits. He sips from the champagne flute as I revolve slowly for him. Then, realising he wants a performance from me, I start to run my hands over the silky fabric of the negligee, sliding my fingers over the curve of my hips and waist, under the line of my breasts, briefly cupping myself as my Master’s eyes follow my movements.

“Take it off,” he says. “I’d like to see the rest of my birthday present.” His eyes are amused, but sensual.

“Yes, Master,” I reply obediently, “But this is not all of your birthday present.”

The champagne glass pauses halfway to his lips as I say this, and I see that, under the line of his clothing, he has an erection. I wonder how well, and how long, I can play him; how hard I can make my Master, just by performing for him.

The green robe is held in place with three laces at neck, breast and waist level. I untie the lowest one, permitting the silk to fall to one side, revealing my stockinged leg. I bend the knee a little to allow a good view. Untying the second ribbon, the silky fabric swishes back, showing my panties and revealing the ribbons to either side of my hips. Through his jeans, I see my Master’s erection swell and twitch.