Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 9: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Nine

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.”

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

bites at my skin. My breathing quickens, and he smiles as he hears it. “Good girl,

exploring, then says, “Part your legs. Spread your thighs for

my pussy, stroking gently, fondling my clit, massaging my pussy lips. I begin to gasp, and I stagger slightly as my body reacts

I say you could move?”

“No, I’m sorry. It’s not easy to stand still

that so? We’d

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

items laid out: vibes, ropes,

cuffs. Snapping them onto my wrists, he says,

with my heart beginning to race, I

again, Elizabeth? Let’s see what we

he produces the spreader bar I

back to admire his handiwork and then shakes his head. Kneeling, he adjusts the bar, pushing it and my ankles wider. “Spread your legs. I want you open.”

is difficult to move at all, and as I try to obey, I totter, all my weight on my wrists for a moment. From his kneeling position, my Master forces my ankles farther apart, and farther, until I can barely stand at all, my wrists taking the strain. He unwraps my

better,” he says. “Now we

entranced by his tight, lean muscled body, by the dark line of hair leading from his navel to his belt and below. Broad-shouldered and tight waisted, I want nothing more than for him to fuck me stupid. His black jeans, previously a perfect fit, are straining at the front, and as he unbelts and unzips, his manhood stands upright against

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