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.

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

ravishing. What kind of woman stood this man up? I can’t imagine. Delicately, slowly, he holds the roses for me to smell, and then, with only the very 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

and raises his eyebrows. "Ahh … so you can make noises.

away, and quite carefully, places the roses in the basin. He produces the something that I was unable to

did

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?

first one ankle, and then the other. My

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

are really beautiful, you know. With a figure like that, and your hair … What are you doing

but not quite, touching. I can smell him, warm and spicy, and I can feel his breath on me. I am longing for him inside

for and rubs my left nipple. The steam of my shower has cleared now and so I am

nipple. Still touching no other part of me, he reaches down between my spread and

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

as my

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

reason. "I want … I want …" I can't get the

clit and I gush again. I am

You have to tell me." He now holds me very tightly, supporting my weight—my God, but he’s strong. My legs are like string, but he takes

tell me," he repeats. His

and I feel myself reaching