Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 3: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Three

He kisses me full on the mouth, making sure I am standing up, and then pushes two fingers up inside me, hard. I feel them almost scrape against me inside, against my G-spot. I cry out, but he has already withdrawn and is down on his knees, his face to my thighs. From my rather awkward position, I look down to see him looking back up at me, at my face. As he looks, his hands are working, parting my curls to reach my pussy lips. He leans forward, and for one delicious moment, I feel his tongue swirl around my clit.

This time, there is nothing half-hearted or restrained about my reaction. I scream, just in time to feel him pull my thighs fully apart, and his tongue lick up from the back of my cunt, through and over my pussy lips.

And he stops.

I hang, my weight on my wrists, making incoherent gasps and wishing there was something I could say.

He pulls away and stands, smiling at me, as I am standing there in my shackles and my own sweat and juices. "This won't do you know," he says. And he turns and walks out again.

I can't believe it. I finally put together a sentence. "You can't do this to me! You can't leave me like this!"

His voice drifts through from the lounge. "Well, you didn’t think I'm going to tongue-fuck you in that condition."

What? What?

The sound level of the music goes up. And up again. And I wait.

He comes back in, again carrying something, which he puts on a shelf. I strain to see what it is — a toiletries bag? And he immediately leaves again.

A moment later, he is back, and he puts something else in his pocket.

"I turned the music up again," he says. "I think that when I get you properly Mastered, you're going to be quite the little screamer. We'll keep it private, shall we?"

boil," as he holds me around the waist again, while pushing one, two, and then four fingers up inside me. Again, I

to the shelf, he pops something in his pocket and then opens the toiletries bag—it is a toiletries bag—and takes out a razor and a can of shaving cream. "I like the taste of pussy," he says, "But not a mouthful of seaweed." He kneels in front of me again and

into the shower stall. "No!" I say. "No, you

pussy lips and takes a

"Well …"

your decision." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the something, and I hear a low buzz,

He does it slowly, sliding it along my engorged lips and up past my aching pussy muscles so that I

rest of me. "I don't like the taste of soap," he says, "and you are getting a bit sweaty." He reaches for the showerhead, turning it on full, but cool. He aims the fine needles of water over my breasts, concentrating on my nipples. I squirm and squeal. The water is just cool enough

towel, and then, turning the showerhead upside down, he sprays squarely up into me, over my pussy and my clit with the water. Water, lather,

scream, trying to escape the intense pleasure, pain, and overstimulation of the needle jets. I am

And he stops—again.

almost delirious with the desire to cum, and

you still have some work

to look at him. Is he

getting into trouble with your boss, do we? I’ve met Mr Chambers and he’s not

go and do your work, and then I can finish you off later." The tie comes loose, and he starts dressing me, slipping my arms through my bra straps,

be serious? After all that, you want to just break off and I'm supposed

He smiles as he buttons up my blouse. "Now, here's your skirt. Pop that on … and no, you don't need those." He takes my panties away from me, tossing them into a corner.

you go …" He retrieves the egg and slips it, buzzing quietly, up inside me. "I'll expect to

he propels me into the corridor, brush in hand and buzzer within, he

"Elizabeth."

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