Bought By The Billionaire

"Enjoying this, aren't we …" he whispers. "Want to take things further?"

Do I want to? He’s driving me wild. Tied up as I am, this stranger could do anything to me, but his slow, careful, caressing, and touching is arousing me far more than any straight shag could have. I am quivering with arousal, but I can't bring myself to reply. After all, he is still a stranger who has tied me up.

"Shy, eh?" he whispers again. "Let's see if we can fix that …"

With his head nestling into the curve of my neck and shoulder, he reaches behind me with one hand, firmly pulling my buttocks to him. I hear a clunk and then another, and I am puzzled.

"I thought I should play the gentleman," he says. "Time to take my shoes off." As it dawns on me, in my stupefied arousal, that he is still more or less fully clothed, his feet slide between mine, easing my legs apart. I stagger slightly, but his other arm takes my weight as I regain my balance.

"Now," he says. "Do I need to tie those ankles apart? Or do I get some cooperation?"

I still can’t bring myself to speak. My trembling continues, and I am beginning to pant, my breath coming in short bursts and my colour rising. He knows exactly what he is doing to me.

"Still shy? We'd better sort it out then." He releases me slowly and stands up straight. "Don't move, Miss Silent," he says as he turns and walks out of the room.

For a minute or so I hear nothing, and then there is music, some kind of soft classical. It grows louder, and then he comes back into the bathroom carrying the roses I saw earlier and something else I can’t make out. He has stripped off his shirt. His smoothly muscled torso bespeaks the kind of man who either has a very physical job or who works out, knowing that women don't go looking for overly muscled morons. In his bare feet and wearing just his black jeans, which are now bulging at the front; dark-haired, lambent eyed, and clearly with a purpose in mind, he is utterly, astonishingly, suggestive and inviting.

I could no more have said No than fly.

But I cannot quite bring myself to say Yes or, more appropriately; Please.

some noise out of you. The music should cover it up in case anyone comes by." He brings the roses close to my face. "I did have other plans for this evening, but she stood me up. Would you like these? They are beautiful, aren't they? Do you like

tips of the petals, he caresses my face with the flowers. The petals have small drops of water on them, and as he brushes my face and then moves down my neck, and over my breasts and stomach, the small cold droplets chill me and titillate at the same

… so you

the roses in the basin. He produces the something that I was unable to identify before—it is a spreader bar

evening did he have planned

He displays the bar to me. The cuffs look padded but strong. "She knew what to expect, but, well, I think you might be new to this … Hmmm?

and straps in first one ankle, and then the other. My feet are held firmly

stands up and steps back, looking me up and down, just standing there, with his arms folded and his head tilted.

a figure like that, and your hair … What are you doing in a job

I can smell him, warm and spicy, and I can feel his breath on me. I am longing for him inside

shower has cleared now and so I am cooling off. Under the influence of chill and arousal, my nipples are hard, crinkling

releases my nipple. Still touching no other part of me, he reaches down between my spread and dripping thighs. "You

time he does not support me, and my weight drops onto my tied wrists. I stagger upright, hobbled by my cuffed ankles. As soon as I am upright again, he repeats it, this time rubbing my clit a little

gasp and cry out as

thing I put on that music," he says, as I pull myself upright again. "Don't want anyone outside hearing you yelp like that. But it's nice to know that you can make noise." He pulls quickly at my clit this time and then massages it for a moment. This time he holds me by the waist as my legs give way. "Don't want you hurting yourself in your enthusiasm," he whispers

… I want …" I can't get the words out. I can't

gush again.

supporting my weight—my God, but he’s strong. My legs are

His fingers continue flicking

about to come, and I feel