Very Bad Billionaires (35 page)

The doors opened. 

We stepped inside and I leant against the wall needing the solid surface to prop me up.  When the doors closed he moved quickly to cup my face, using his thumb to stroke against my lips until they parted.  I couldn’t stop myself from running my tongue against his skin and taking it into my mouth.  He tasted salty, delicious, and his eyes were wicked with intent.  When he smiled and stepped closer using his other hand to stroke slowly up the outside of my thigh I couldn’t hold in the moan that had been bursting to get out of me since he had spread my legs in a crowded bar. The material of my skirt bunched up against his arm and when his hand cupped the bottom of my arse and squeezed, I bit down on his thumb and he jumped from the pain and laughed. 

“Doors opening,” the lift announced and the stranger disentangled himself from me and steered me out into the corridor.  The journey to my room seemed longer than it had earlier, and he put his hand against the back of my neck so I would keep up with his pace.  He was tall, a few inches over six foot and so broad that I felt tiny and fragile next to him. 

At the door he used my key card to gain entry and he put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the handle before closing it and locking it.  He turned to me, first just to look me over as if he was deciding exactly what he was going to do to me.  Then he surprised me by reached out to loosen my ponytail, allowing my dark hair to tumble down my back.  “You’re beautiful,” my stranger said before stroking the sleek length from root to tip, twirling a soft tendril between his fingers.  “Your hair, your skin, these freckles…so innocent.”  I took a step back as he ran a finger down the slope of my nose.  He stepped in closer and I smelt rich whisky on his breath, the scent of an expensive fragrance and his warm skin.  “Are you innocent?” he asked, breathing the words directly into my ear. 

I shook my head, eyes wide, looking to gauge if he was disappointed but he didn’t seem to be.  He pushed me so I was pressed against the wall, and leant down to brush his lips across mine, so gently it was like a whisper.  I couldn’t breathe as I waited for him to kiss me again and when he didn’t I opened my eyes to find him gazing at me waiting. 

“Not innocent then but…sad.” 

It was a strange thing to say at a moment when we were both being driven by our physical urges rather than our emotions.  Or maybe that wasn’t true, at least for me.  My body craved his but my mind was looking for something too.  A balm for the sadness he could see and an opportunity to let go of feelings I had buried and were slowly eating away at me.  Taking him to my room was a way of me saying a big ‘fuck you’ to Jonathan and the negativity and deceit he had brought into my life.

My stranger’s hands found the buttons of my blouse and he undid them all, drawing the fabric apart and easing it over my shoulders so it slipped to the floor.  I stood with my hands at my sides as he ran his fingers lightly down the side of my throat and across my collar bone.  He teased me with his touch following the line of my pink lacy bra, his eyes never leaving mine, holding me captive while he worked to make my body shake.  His fingers slipped under the lace until they found the hard point of my nipple and squeezed it, gentle at first and then harder until I cried out. 

“Look at your perfect little tits,” he whispered, leaning down to flick my now bare nipple with the hot point of his tongue.  “So white, so soft…so sweet.”  I could feel the wetness slipping out of my pussy and I squirmed as his every touch made me ready for what was to come.  “And your nipple, so small and pink and hard.”  He took it between his teeth and bit down viciously enough for me to cry out.  His mouth left my breast wet, moving to kiss me again harder and more demanding, his tongue mimicking the action I imagined his cock would make later.  I moaned involuntarily and felt him smile against my mouth as if he had been seeking my reactions as evidence of his success.  His hand squeezed my breast, the other pushing me to the wall and so he could press his rock hard erection against my hip.

“You’re like a doll,” he said against my cheek.  “Like a porcelain doll.  So pristine.”  His hand shifted now, moving down the bared skin of my sides, until they clasped at my waist.  “Your body’s perfect,” he murmured into my mouth and the sentiment made me want to touch him.  I only managed to run my hands down his back and around until they were under his suit jacket before he grabbed my elbows and lowered my arms to my sides again.  “Faultlessly perfect…it makes me want to mark you with my teeth, to fuck you so hard that your pussy’s red raw.”

He pulled back again, to look into my eyes and manoeuvred me until I was resting against the console table.  “I want to make you come so hard you won’t even know where you are.  Sit down,” he said, already pushing me back and drawing my feet up to rest on the edge. 

As I looked down at his hands rested on my knees I could see myself trembling but it was as though I was looking down at someone else’s body. I was outside myself from the lust I was feeling and the desperate need to be filled, both physically and emotionally.  He gently parted my legs, moving my black skirt up my thighs until there was nothing between his eyes and my pussy.  I went to draw my legs together, embarrassed to be on show but he held them firmly and pushed them wider until I felt myself open in front of him, the most intimate part of my body on display for this stranger. 

“So pink,” he said, licking over his bottom lip.  I couldn’t stay still while he moved his hand, using one finger to stroke down over my clit and to the outside of my opening, drawing the wetness that was there to lubricate his journey.  The slowness of his touch was exquisite torture, like the tickle of a feather, and I rested my hands behind me for stability.  His finger continued to move, slowly, deliberately, until I could feel more wetness slipping out. Even though I was scared, all I wanted was for him to penetrate me and block everything with sensation. 

As if understanding from my moans what I wanted, he pushed first one finger in, then two, then three until I clenched my muscles around him and he pumped them in and out, pressing the sensitive spot inside me.  “Fuck,” I said, spreading my knees even further, opening myself totally.  He pressed his thumb against my swollen clit, delicate pressure which brought me closer to the orgasm I wanted so desperately.  And then he pulled his hand away leaving me gasping.

When I opened my eyes I watched him lick his fingers that were glistening wet from being inside me.  “You taste as sweet as I imagined.  Now get up.”  I moved to stand, my legs weak with desire, and reached to unbuckle his belt.  He grabbed my hands and pulled them away.  “Take off your clothes,” he said and stepped back to watch me, slipping off his own jacket and tie, then unbuttoning his shirt.  I reached behind me to unhook my bra and took my time pushing the straps down over my arm, relishing the dark look in his eyes as he watched.  My nipples were so hard they made my small breasts look round and high. 

He slipped off his shirt and I marvelled at his physique; toned shoulders and chest meeting a firm stomach and those lines of muscle at the sides that pointed down inside the waistband of his trousers.  I’d never seen such a beautiful body in the flesh, just in magazines and on the front of my favourite saucy romance books. My hands itched to touch but he was a stranger and it seemed as though he wanted to lead what was happening between us. In a way I was happy to follow because, honestly, I had lost my confidence since discovering what Jonathan had been up to on the side.  It’s hard to feel sexy when you find out your boyfriend went looking for satisfaction elsewhere.

“Your skirt,” he said, as he sat on the edge of the bed to slip off his shoes and socks and unbuckle his belt.  I unzipped but held the waistband for a couple of seconds before leaving it to fall around my ankles.  Stepping out of it was like casting off my old self and leaving behind her restrictions and morality. And then I was standing in front of him naked, feeling more vulnerable and aroused than I ever had before.  I knew nothing about this man other than what I could see and he had such control over my mind and body that I felt like a yoyo dangling from his finger; one tug would be all it would take to hold me in his palm.  He reached for me with one hand, grasping my hip and pulling me until I was close enough for him to kiss my belly.  His tongue licked across my skin, leaving a hot and then cold trail as it passed; a delicious and maddening sensation.

I ran my fingers through his hair, needing the contact with him to steady me and groaned as his hands squeezed my arse.  With a quick movement he stood and pushed me round so I fell onto the bed and grabbed my ankles to spread my legs so he could crawl up between them.  Kneeling, he looked at me lying open and ready for him before he bent his head to kiss the inside of my thighs.  I could feel his hot breath moving closer and closer to where I wanted him to be, his stubble grazing my leg sent shivers through me.  When he finally reached my pussy he gently kissed my clit and inhaled deeply.  “I love the smell of pussy,” he breathed against me and my hips bucked to meet his mouth.  He rose up and used his fingers to gently spread my labia, and watched as my clit swelled and poked out from under its little hood, seeking his tongue, the press of his fingers, anything to give it relief.  “I can see how much you want this,” he said, stroking downwards until his fingers were coated in my arousal.  “I can see how turned on you are by the idea of fucking a stranger.”  His eyes met mine with a spark of electricity.  “You haven’t even asked my name, have you?  You like this anonymous, so you can give in to whatever you want without feeling anything tomorrow.  You want me to control you so you won’t feel any guilt about opening your legs for a man that you might not recognise later on the street.” 

“No,” I said, ashamed at the truth of his words, trying to pull my legs together but he held them open. 

“Yes,” he said, slipping a finger just inside my opening and holding it there.  My pussy fluttered around it as though it wanted to draw him inside, and he smiled.  “Your pussy says yes.”

He pushed another finger in just an inch and then turned them, pressing upwards. It felt so good that my clit burnt from lack of stimulation in the cold, conditioned air.  I put down my hand to press on it to relieve some of the pressure but he pushed it away. 

“You want me in control,” he said, grinning wickedly.  “You want me to decide when you get to come.  You want me to
make
you.”  He snatched his tie from the bed and grabbed my hand, reaching to secure it to my ankle.  I struggled initially but then he bent down to gently suck on my clit and I relented to the bindings, wanting him to possess me in a way no one else ever had, to wipe away the feelings of failure I had inside me since Jonathan had cheated.  His eyes sparkled darkly as he used his belt to shackle my other hand to the other ankle and then sat back to look at me, trussed up for his pleasure. 

His pleasure and mine. 

He slipped off the bed and I watched as he walked around until he was behind me, my neck straining to keep him in my line of sight.  He languidly looked over the stack of papers I had left on my bedside table as some night time reading; pamphlets that I would be leaving with the client tomorrow.  To the side was my passport which he picked up and opened.  “Rebecca,” he said, and I nodded, wide-eyed.  “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”  My legs were trembling with anticipation, my hands gripping my ankles tightly, frustration ready to boil over as he looked around the room in no hurry at all.  His eyes met mine again, and he grinned, leaning forward and pinching one of my nipples, running his finger from my breast bone up the slope of my extended throat before he pushed it into my mouth.  “You look so fucking good like this.” he said, gently easing his finger in and out as I sucked on it like a lollypop.  I knew what he was thinking about because I was thinking about it too. 

He walked around the bed again, standing next to my feet.  “Wider,” he ordered, looking at my pussy again, and I spread myself open, feeling my labia parting and my wetness cool in the air.  “That’s it.  Open yourself up for me.  I want to see inside your little hole.  I want to see where I’m going to push inside.”  He lowered his face, breathing me in again, his lips teasing at me before his tongue dipped into my opening making me writhe with pleasure.  He probed at me, the hard tip of his tongue flicking at my clit then circling until I was trembling and mindless, pulling at my restraints.  “I know how much you want to come,” he murmured into my cunt.  “You smell so fucking desperate.” 

God, his words.  I felt dirty for getting turned on by the way he talked; it was so sexy and so
rough,
like nothing I had experienced.  He walked away again, opening the mini fridge and pulling out a small bottle of whisky, returning and opening the cap.  “What are you going to do?” I asked, remembering the way the same liquor had burnt my throat.  He took a sip and leaned over me, kissing me and letting some of the whisky trickle into my mouth. It was potent and the heat travelled over lips and gums and then down until it hit my throat.  He watched as I swallowed, then he took another sip and bent between my legs.  “No,” I shouted in a rush and he looked at me with a glint in his eyes. 

“Trust me,” he said, “You’ll like it.  Hot and cold is the perfect combination.” I wriggled to get away from his whisky covered tongue but he held my knees and then pressed it against my clit.  I felt the chill of the liquor first and then as he rasped harder, the heat of the alcohol burnt against my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I groaned, writhing as he continued to lick, harder and harder.  Then I felt the freezing press of the bottle against my cunt.  I bucked my hips, slamming into his mouth but it wasn’t enough to get away.  The glass slipped just inside my pussy and he pressed upwards until it nudged against my g-spot.  It was the naughtiest thing anyone had ever done to me and I came like I was possessed, shivering against his mouth and the cold hard bottle, moaning so loudly I didn’t recognise the sound of my own voice.