The Billionaire's Dark Lady (3 page)

"Let's sit on the couch," he said.

Once he sat down and patted the cushion next to him, I immediately sank onto the leather sofa and sighed involuntarily as the leather seat molded perfectly to my ass. I'd never known furniture could be this comfortable before Roger Hill had invited me into his home.

"All right, my dear," he began. "First of all, this is not bad news. We just need to have a talk about our relationship and our expectations. I don't want to abuse your trust or lead you on in any way."

I looked up at him and smiled. He could never do that.

"I'm afraid of giving you the wrong impression," he continued. "I don't want you to expect marriage or kids with me. That's not the kind of man I am. I'd love to date you, to spend a few years enjoying one another's company, but I'm not particularly interested in domesticity. Does that hurt your feelings?"

I couldn't help but laugh.

"Theo, I'm barely eighteen. I want to go to college, not get married. Sure, I'd like to have kids someday, but not now! Not even soon!"

He looked relieved.

"You're a sensible girl, I didn't think you'd have the wrong idea."

"So," I began, "You say you're interested in dating me... does that mean just sex, or does that mean romance and flowers and nice dinners?"

"Oh, I think that those could be arranged," he said with a smile.

He reached out one hand and stroked my cheek. I raised my own and pressed it against his, enjoying the feeling of his hand between my palm and my face.

The more he touched me, the more I longed for his touch.

We started into one another's eyes at that point, simply smiling and enjoying the feeling of skin against skin.

Finally, he said "Oh, my dear girl, this is going to be fun," and smiled.

I believed him. Everything that he'd said was going to be fun had been some of the best times of my life. He'd taken me riding horses, up in a hot air balloon, on day trips to the beach, even, once, to a spa.

I had to admit, I started to wonder... if that was how he treated a neighbor girl down the block, how would he treat his girlfriend? Would he indulge me with an occasional luxury? That day at the spa, with the massages and the facials and the delicious finger food that never seemed to stop coming by, was one of the most relaxing days I'd ever spent.

If I could go back to a spa, with him joining me, I couldn't imagine how happy that would make me. Now, of course, I'd still be interested in him if he weren't wealthy. His kind eyes, his interest in me and my life, none of that could be bought, and those were what made me so comfortable around him.

He leaned forward, after I'd been lost in introspection for a few moments, and again softly pressed his lips against mine.

This time, though, he deepened the kiss, pressing more firmly and shifting our positions on the couch, using his larger body to press me into the back of the soft leather couch, placing one of his hands on my hip and pulling me against him.

His body felt so good against mine.

After a few moments that left me breathless, he sat back on the couch, spreading his legs and settling into a comfortable position. He patted his thighs and smiled at me.

"Come here," he commanded.

I obeyed, straddling his thighs and placing my legs outside his. This way, with him leaning back, I could look down on his face and observe the lean lines of his muscular body.

I put both of my hands on his chest and leaned down, kissing him, pressing my lips against his with all of the passion I could muster.

Soon, he placed one of his hands against the back of my head and pulled me closer to him. He opened his mouth against mine, flicking his tongue out over my lips, causing me to part them in surprise. Immediately, his questing tongue plundered my mouth for the first time, where he cock had been earlier.  

I moaned against his mouth and then gasped and broke away from his kiss as I felt something twitch between my legs. I looked down to see his hardness straining against the zipper of his perfectly tailored linen trousers.

I settled back on my heels so that I could reach his cock, and reached down to stroke it softly through the fabric.

"Would you like me to suck you again?" I asked. I was too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. Maybe someone older, someone more experienced, maybe they'd have known exactly what to do, had the confidence to unzip his trousers and pull out his cock and suck it right down their throat, but that wasn't me. I hoped he didn't expect that to be me.

"No, my dear," he said. "I was hasty and selfish to let you suck my cock earlier. It wasn't at all fair to you, I hadn't even kissed you properly then, and I hadn't done anything to give you pleasure. Will you forgive me?"

Again, I could feel my cheeks go red. I was beginning to hate that blushing.

"I enjoyed it," I mumbled.

"Mm," he said," I'm glad to hear that, but I still should have led up to it better."

"How?" I asked.

"Like this, of course," he said, pulling my face back down to his.

We embraced and kissed like that for a few endless minutes, with his hands gentling resting on my hips.

Soon, one hand left my hips and slowly traced a teasing path up my body to my breast. He patted and stroked my stomach by turns as he kept his lips on mine.

Carefully, slowly, he took my perky little melon into his hand. I’d never been touched there before, but I loved to wash my own breasts in the shower, so I thought that I knew how good they could feel.

I was so wrong.

His hot strong hand on my chest made me groan into his mouth. He raised his other hand and grasped my chest more firmly, kneading my breasts with a tenderness that melted my heart as his touch fired my passion.

When his thumbs brushed my hard nipples through my shirt and bra, I shivered in his hands and leaned forward, my diamond-hard nipples straining through the fabric to meet his seeking fingers.

Carefully, he raised my shirt over my belly to the base of my bra and paused, running one of his large manly hands over my flat belly. It was more of his skin on mine than I'd ever felt. No one had touched me this intimately - even when I was sucking his cock, we had both been fully dressed, and it seemed somehow less new and heady than his callouses against my stomach.

He smiled slowly up at me and raised my shirt up further, exposing my little white bra.

"Very nice," he murmured. Looking down, I saw that he could only see a little bit of my skin, a small sliver of my bosom peeking out between my bra and my shirt to tease his eyes.

I reached down and pulled the shirt off over my head, getting stuck for a moment and then shimmying the rest of the way out. The motion rubbed my sex against the hot hardness that his pants were barely containing and we both stifled moans.

He reached around behind me and unhooked my bra, fumbling with the clasp  for only a minute. He threw the little white garment aside and pulled me against him, taking my nipple into his mouth and sucking it fiercely, pulling my love globe into his wet mouth. I cried out from the feeling of it and he chuckled around my nub, flicking it with his tongue until I cried out again as the arousal pulsed in my sex.

I didn't realize that I was rubbing myself against his cock mindlessly until he pulled his head away from my teat, but an electric shock went through me at how good it felt, before he turned his attention to the other nipple and I got lost in the sensation again.

As he tongued my nipple, he took handfuls of my ass and squeezed through the short skirt I was wearing. I could feel the fabric ride up under his hands, so that his fingertips brushed against my bare cheeks, and again, I shivered against his cock.

He pulled away from my chest, darted back in for one lick to my nipple, and then sat back.

"Enough," he said. "Too far again. God, what you do to me, you're so damn hot that I can hardly stand it. I need a minute."

He gestured at the chair next to the couch and I went to sit on it. My exposed thighs, slightly sweaty and trembling from desire, stuck to the leather and I shifted back and forth slightly, getting comfortable as he lay back, shutting his eyes and rubbing his cock in long, slow strokes through his pants.

I wondered if his cock ached anything like my sex did. Seeing that his eyes were still shut, I reached down one finger and rubbed the sweet little spot of need that I found there.

Getting distracted by how amazing the relief from the yearning that my body was feeling, I started to rub slow circles on the fabric of my skirt, throwing my head back and shutting my eyes.

When I lifted one hand and started to roll the pink tip of my breast between my fingers, squeezing the nipple repeatedly, Roger spoke up.

“I could watch you do that for hours,” he said, and I jerked my hands away from my body.

“Why,” I started to ask, and then paused.

Perhaps I wouldn’t like the answer I got - but I had to know.

“Why don’t you want to touch me?” I asked.

He chuckled again.

“That is not the problem, my dear girl,” he said. “The problem is that I want you to bend you back over that chair right now and fuck you silly, and that’s not what I want your first time to be like. I want your first time to be about your pleasure, not my need to get my rocks off with a beautiful teenage girl.”

I hesitated.

“Is that what you’d really do right now if I were someone else? Someone more experienced?”

“Actually, if you were anyone else, I would have spanked you for showing up before I told you to,” he said.

Surprisingly, the little thrill of fear that went through me at those words contained a small thread of… desire. The idea of getting spanked by this man, of being punished, made the heat pool in my belly and my toes curl.

“Would you mind telling me about spanking?” I asked.

He smiled.

“That’s not unappealing? You could get behind the idea of being bent over my lap?” he asked.

I didn’t trust myself to speak. I simply nodded, looking down at my lap.

“All right, I have a suggestion. Why don’t you touch yourself while I tell you about it?”

“Sure,” I said softly.

At that point, I was perched on the edge of a slippery leather armchair, wearing nothing but a khaki miniskirt and a thong. I could see my bra on the floor a few feet away, but I wasn’t certain where my shirt was. Roger was fully dressed and smiling his kindest smile at me from the large sofa. I looked totally debauched, but I didn’t mind as much as I perhaps should have. He was such a nice man, and he was being so sweet to me.

I waited for him to start talking, to tell me more about the discipline that had piqued my interest.

He stretched, and I watched his muscles bunch and relax underneath his expensive outfit, as I’d done so many times before - generally, though, while fully dressed!

Finally, I broke the silence.

“Um?” I began, before trailing off again.

“I’d be happy to start talking once you fulfil your part of our little bargain,” he said.

“Oh!” I replied.

I had to start touching myself again, knowing that his eyes were on me.

I crossed my legs and, blushing, reached up to touch one of my pearled tips, which was already achingly hard and proudly erect. The barest brush of my fingers against it made me shiver and muffle a moan, and when I grasped it in a tighter hold, I leaned my head back and shut my eyes with pleasure.

After that first teasing caress, it was easier to touch myself.

The same hand that had just begun to stroke and pet my nipple grasped my entire breast and gave a soft squeeze, and then stroked down my belly to the waistband of my skirt.

I hesitated. Should I tease myself on the outside of the fabric, or would he like to see me take it off?

For now, I decided, I needed to go ahead and touch myself through the fabric. I was so tormentingly aroused that I wasn't sure a touch to my bare skin wouldn't make me explode.

Carefully, I started tracing little patterns on my skirt above my most sensitive parts. Little circles around the nub I knew was hiding there, occasionally an X that crossed right over it to make me moan.

Roger started saying "My dear girl, this is the best show I have seen in a long time."

His voice was lower than I'd heard it. Did desire make it so?

"If you were anyone else, when you marched into my house nearly a full week early, I would have kissed you, and grabbed a handful of your ass, and perhaps slid a hand up your shirt to squeeze one of your nipples - hard. I'd like to see you squeeze one of your own nipples that way, would you mind doing that for me?"

My hand left off what it was doing and slowly slid up my stomach to my breast, and, with only a slight hesitation, I squeezed one of my nipples.

"Harder," he said, quietly.

I pressed my fingers together more forcefully, the pain making me breathe raggedly for a moment as the desire swelled within me.

"Very good," he said, "I like that. Next, I would have taken your hand and led you into the living room, this room right here. I would have brought you right over to the chair where you're sitting now, only I would have had you bend over it, fully dressed."