Bought By The Billionaire novel Chapter 9

Richard leads me to stand by the window, then sits in an armchair, looking at me. “Turn around. Let me look at you.”

A little self-consciously, I turn around under his fixed gaze. I am wearing a simple blouse, very low-cut that shows off my cleavage. The teardrop pendant dangles between my breasts. The wraparound skirt, tight on my tiny waist, flares out, silky and sensuous over my long legs. I pull the skirt slightly to one side, showing my Master one stocking covered thigh.

He sits, head on one hand, propped on the chair arm, just watching, drinking me in. He looks simply astonishing, dark-haired and dark-eyed as he gazes on, his beautifully chiselled features fixed on me. He is my Master now, but I have never felt so powerful, so alive.

“You look beautiful, Elizabeth.”

I flush again, unsure now of his wishes.

“Unbutton your blouse,” he says, “slowly.” Then seeing my eyes glance at the window, he adds, “It’s mirrored glass. No one can see in. Now, unbutton your blouse.”

My Master expects to be obeyed, and so, one by one, I slip the buttons free, until the silken garment hangs loosely from my shoulders, my full breasts protruding beyond the folds.

“Take it off.” Obediently, I let the blouse slide to the ground where it ripples onto the thick soft carpet. My bra, chosen to enhance my cleavage, is black satin, matching the thong I am wearing. I start to take off the bra, but he says, “No. Come here.” And compliantly, I approach.

I feel incredibly erotic. My total surrender of will to this man’s wishes is arousing something in me, which, until only the previous day, I had not suspected in myself. I warm from within, embers of arousal beginning to fan into flame.

“Closer. I want to be able to touch you, to smell you.”

As I stand over him, he reaches into the folds of the skirt, pulling the fabric back in a train behind me, exposing the thong panties along with my stockings. His hands continue their journey behind me to the tops of my thighs, gathering me in and pulling me close, his face against my stomach as he kisses and nibbles my skin. Then, one hand still clasping me from behind, with a single finger he slides inside the front of my panties, pulling them slightly to one side, and lowering his head, nuzzling his face against me.

I can feel his hot breath against me as he softly bites at my skin. My breathing quickens, and he smiles as he hears it. “Good girl, Elizabeth. That’s right. I’ll have you screaming soon enough, but you have to earn it.”

He laps slowly at my sex, tongue exploring, then says, “Part your legs. Spread your thighs for me.”

He slides two fingers between my legs, over my bud, and towards my pussy, stroking gently, fondling my clit, massaging my pussy lips. I begin to gasp, and I stagger slightly as my body reacts to the oh-so-gentle stimulation he is giving me, waves of arousal fanning over me.

“Did I say you could move?”

I shake my head. “No, I’m sorry. It’s not easy to stand still when you’re doing that.”

He glances up into my eyes. “Is that so? We’d better do something about it then.”

In a swift change of mood, grabbing my wrists, he pulls me into the bedroom and pushes me roughly back against a wall. Hand hard on me, flat between my breasts, he simply says, “Stay.”

On a side table, there are several items laid out: vibes, ropes, dildos, handcuffs …