Bought By The Billionaire novel Chapter 6

I lie there, dumbly looking at him, wondering what is coming next. His jeans are bulging, and as he removes them, I see his massive erection, firm and stiff against his navel. Can I take that much?

He sees where I am looking and guesses my thoughts. “Yes, you’re getting it. All of it, if you are good and do as you are told. Off the bed, Elizabeth. Stand in front of me.”

Compliantly, I obey, and not sure where to look, cast my eyes down. He leans to one side, and opening a drawer, takes out a single red silk scarf, then others. Using one of them, he blindfolds me, binding it tight around my eyes, then he leads me a few steps by the hand.

“Bend forward.”

Again, I obey, and feel first my left wrist, and then my right, being bound to something. The bedposts?

As earlier, he lifts me from the waist, positioning me with my hips up and my pussy exposed. My legs are spread, and my ankles are bound also. I am utterly helpless and completely exposed; I am at the mercy of this man. My pussy lips are swollen and aching, and my juices are running down my thighs. I have never felt so utterly aroused, so utterly ready for whatever would happen next.

Quivering and trembling, I hear him speak again. “Just to remind you, Elizabeth, you can tell me to stop at any time, but if you do, everything stops, and you go home. Say yes if you understand.”

“Yes.”

I am almost palpitating now to have my Master inside me. His penis pushes against my pussy lips and I move my hips to accommodate his huge erection, tilting myself for easy access. The vibe was a poor substitute for what I really want. I pulse with arousal, frantic now to have that cock, to swallow it within, to take it as far as it will go, balls-deep into me. Once, twice, it pushes against me, easing me open, slippery and wet. My pussy muscles jump in reflex, tightening around my Master, as he hesitates on the brink, not yet penetrating, not yet filling me as I want.

“What do you want, Elizabeth? You may speak.”

I don’t hesitate. “Fuck me. Please, fuck me.”

His penis eases against my pussy and my muscles twitch. I lean back as far as I can, to take it, but again, he pulls away.

“That’s not good enough, Elizabeth.”

“Oh, God, please fuck me.”

“Not good enough, Elizabeth. I have to really know what you want. You won’t get it if you don’t tell me.”

I scream. “Please. Please fuck me with your cock! Bury yourself in me. I want to be fucked.”

“That’s better.”

He thrusts hard inside me. My pussy walls take him easily, I am so wet and swollen, but he is huge, and I feel him bang against my inner wall, then again, harder. It hurts, but I am beyond pain or pleasure and know only that I want more of this. I feel my Master grasping my buttocks, holding me still as he fucks me. Repeatedly, his shaft spears me. I cry out in rhythm with his thrusting, again and again as he plunges deep inside me. I cannot move. I cannot see. Blind and spread-eagled, all I can do is scream in response to the pain and pleasure of my Master fucking me.

Climax wells up from within, mounting and building, threatening to take me completely. Then in a shattering crescendo, with my heart pounding and pulse racing, my orgasm overwhelms me, and my cries turn to screams at my body’s release. Still, he pounds inside me, plunging and thrusting, but I feel him now, leaning over me, arms wrapped around me, kneading my breasts, his breath ragged next to my face. He spasms as he bucks and presses into me, pumping his load. His hips jerk convulsively once or twice more, and then he relaxes and sighs.

“Good girl, Elizabeth,” he says quietly. “Yes, that was good.”

Withdrawing, he unties me, steadying me as I stand a little uncertainly, and he then removes the blindfold. My breathing is still quick, and he is flushed and panting, his hair sweaty and disordered. He smiles as he catches my eye, tossing me the bathrobe. “Shall we finish that champagne now?” he suggests.