Very Bad Billionaires (36 page)

“That’s it,” he said, pulling back to watch the way my cunt was pulsating, pulling my labia apart to expose my sensitive clit.  I almost came again from that alone.  “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Oh god,” was all I could get out as I watched him push off his trousers and boxers and fist his cock.  It was huge and hard, and he stroked it slowly like he was calming a dangerous thing that had a mind of its own. 

“I’m not finished with you yet.”  He began to undo the bindings and I stretched out my legs and arms, relaxing until he rolled me over.  “Give me your hands,” he ordered and I did as he asked, placing them at the small of my back.  He had freed me once and I knew he would free me again.   It was all part of his wicked game and I was so mindless and horny that despite the risks I wanted to play.

When my hands were tied he grabbed a pillow and pushed it under my hips, forcing my arse in the air.  My face was pressed into the bedcovers, my swollen wet pussy up in the air for his visual pleasure.  I couldn’t see him but I could hear when he tore a condom wrapper and rolled it over himself, I could feel when he knelt up on the bed between my legs and I was frozen with the anticipation of what was to come.  The press of his cock was too much and not enough.  I was desperate for him to fuck me, to open me up and take me as hard as he had promised but he was going too slowly.  I nudged my hips back but he pulled away.  “Wait for it, baby.  It’s so much sweeter when you wait.”

I groaned in disapproval but stilled my hips.  When he finally shifted closer again I stayed as still as I could, letting him work in slowly, first pressing in the head which opened me up like a fist, then inch after inch of his length, burning as it spread me wide until his hips were against my arse, my pussy lips pressed flat around his cock.  His fingers dug into my sides like clamps as he started to move.  “Fuck you feel good,” he grunted.  “Look at your pretty little pussy, wrapped around my cock.  God it looks so dirty, so fucking hot and wet.  Your cunt’s dribbling for my cock isn’t it?”  He grabbed hold of the cheek of my arse and squeezed hard.  “You’re so pretty and porcelain perfect but in your heart you’re a bad, bad girl. You love getting fucked hard by a stranger, don’t you?”

I groaned in agreement, hips bucking to meet his thrusts, hands clasped uncomfortably behind me.  He pulled at my wrists, holding me so I couldn’t move, slamming into my pussy harder and harder until I was sore, clit straining for relief.  “I want to come,” I rasped.  “Make me come.”

“You’ve been a good girl,” he grunted, pounding mercilessly as he found my clit and rubbed just above it. 

“Oh…oh just like that,” I groaned, “just like that, don’t stop.” 

His hips sped up, slamming into me, pushing my body higher until my toes were digging into the bed for some kind of purchase.

“Come on, baby.  Let it go, I wanna feel your pussy clutch at my cock.  I wanna see you dripping for me.”

“Oh god.”   He leant right over me then, pushing me hard into the bed, fucking my pussy raw. 

“You’re going to be so sore tomorrow, aren’t you?  You’re going to go to your big important business meeting and when you sit down you’re going to flinch and think of me.  Ah baby, you feel so good.  Give it to me.”  He pressed hard against the top of my clit and I came seeing stars, moaning like as animal, feeling his cock pulse and his body seize with his own orgasm. 

His weight crushed me against the bed but I couldn’t have moved anyway.  My entire body was wrung out from pleasure, limbs aching and my cunt so sore that when he pulled out I went rigid with the pain. Even when I was empty I could still feel him inside me. I heard him deal with the condom, wrapping it in a tissue and then he slowly loosened my wrists and rolled me over. Sweat cooled against my hair-line and at the back of my thighs where his skin had pressed so tightly against mine.  He was sweat-slicked too but still looked magnificent as though someone had oiled him for an expensive perfume advertisement. He stroked over my forehead and cheek with such gentleness I had trouble reconciling his actions with the man who had just been inside me.  His eyes seemed soft too as he swept my hair back and then rested his palm over one of my tits possessively.

“Are you okay?” he asked and I nodded and smiled so fleetingly that he might have missed it if he wasn’t looking directly at me.  “Did I succeed?”

I must have looked puzzled because he smiled.  “Did I succeed in giving you something to remember?”

I nodded again, still breathing deeply from exertion and pleasure.  “I seem to have fucked the words right out of your mouth, Rebecca.”  He grinned and I rolled back to look at the ceiling.  I needed time away from his penetrating gaze that seemed to see too much; at least more than I wanted to share.

“I needed that,” I said, wanting to take back my motivation for fucking him.  He had been so in control and seemed to get off on the extra level of coercion.  That was fine in the moment but not now.  It was important to me that he knew I had wanted it all; every last thing he had given me.

“Then I’m glad I was in the right place at the right time to deliver.”

He leant in and I let him kiss me deeply, the smell of my pussy coating his face making it sweet and dirty at the same time.

“You’re a good girl aren’t you, Rebecca?  A good girl who likes being bad.”

I smiled again but didn’t directly agree.  Life wasn’t so black and white and the things that lead us to act in certain ways were not easily explained.  He could think what he wanted now.  Good girl or bad.  He was a stranger to me after all.  One I wouldn’t be seeing again when he left the cocoon of my hotel room.

He licked down between my breasts, pushing my legs apart again so he could take one last taste of my pussy.  His tongue was like sandpaper against my over sensitised flesh and I flinched.  “Stay like this,” he said, positioning my legs so they were spread wide.  “I want to look at your pussy while I get dressed.”

As he pulled on his clothes, he kept his eyes between my legs and I couldn’t control the way my pussy moved, clenching for his cock.  My body wanted to fuck him again but in reality I was way too sore.  Anyway, he was fully dressed by that time and it seemed he was going to leave me wanting.

As he was about to depart he ran his hands between my thighs and pressed a finger just inside me again.  I was so swollen it felt as big as a cock.  “I won’t forget this,” he said and I sighed.  He pulled his finger out and put it to his mouth, tasting my arousal before walking to the door. 

“I think you probably will,” I said quietly.  “But I won’t.  I’ll never tell a soul about what we did but you’ll be the star of all my fantasies…my dirty little secret.”

He turned and his eyes seemed so fierce I felt as though they might have the power to devour me or turn me into dust.  I thought he might come closer again or try to have the last word - he seemed to like to have the upper hand – but he didn’t.

And he didn’t say goodbye.

When he closed the door quietly behind him, I got up, took another bottle of whisky from the mini fridge and spent a while savouring the flavour, thinking I would always recall the taste of him whenever I drank it.  I went to sleep naked, relishing the slip of the sheets over the sharp points of my sore nipples as I remembered the feel of his tongue, his mouth and his cock.

The next morning I woke feeling bruised around my hips and in my shoulder joints; delicious reminders of what had happened with my stranger.  I lay for a while in my tangled sheets, remembering his face; those eyes that could be soft, intense, focused and domineering within a minute.  His hands were huge and strong but soft against my skin, his fingers creating nerve tingling sensations wherever they caressed. 

And his body.

God his body had been something else.  My other three ex’s looked like boys in comparison.  He was lean but muscular; large biceps, gorgeous rounded pecks topped by small dark nipples and a stomach that an army of women could have washed their ‘smalls’ on for days.  He just hadn’t given me a chance to touch him, to appreciate what was on offer for my visual perusal.  For the first time in my life my tongue actually longed to lick a man’s skin. I bet he would have tasted delicious.  He’d smelt amazing; his cologne must have been something with an ocean-fresh undertone, but beneath that the smell of his skin had been intoxicating. 

It was weird to think about someone that I knew so intimately but was never going to see again.  I wasn’t really sure how to deal with the feelings.  Our encounter had been seriously hot and totally outside anything I had ever done before.  I mean, he’d tied me up, ordered me around and done things to me in a cold and clinical way that had me panting and moaning and coming like I never had before.  God, when he spread my legs and then eased open my lips, looking at pussy with those hungry eyes, I swear I couldn’t breathe.  And his words.  The dirty things he said just made everything so much hotter. 

Thinking about him and reliving it had my pussy tingling all over again.  I’d been honest when I told him he would be the star of my fantasies.  I pressed my hand gently against my pussy, warming my clit and taking care not to put pressure on the bits that felt sore.  I wondered if I could make myself come without fingering my g-spot.  Clitoral orgasms were difficult to achieve.  I slipped my finger into my knickers, finding my little clit already swollen just from the effect of my thoughts.  It wasn’t wet enough so I brought my finger up to my mouth, licking, and then delving back down to get to work.  As I rubbed myself in tight little circles I thought about my stranger; snapshots of memories, the way he walked towards me in the bar like a panther in a grey suit, the way he’d used his ankles to spread my thighs and his voice when he told me to take off my underwear.  Oh, and his eyes and the way they burnt where ever they looked, affecting me almost a strongly as a physical touch. 

My clit was swelling nicely and I sped up, arching my back, moving my hips as I chased my pleasure, thinking about his tongue on my pussy, whisky covered, heat and friction and the coldness of the bottle pushing inside me.  Oh…

I came so hard just from my one little finger and a mind full of filthy thoughts inspired by a man whose name was still a mystery.  It was blissful and empty all at the same time.

In the bathroom, I studied my body, trying to see what he had seen.  My hipbones were more prominent than I remembered, probably from all the days of being unable to eat after discovering Jonathan’s betrayal.  My thinness suddenly angered me.  Why had I punished myself when it had been him that had been at fault?  I should have pampered myself, nurtured my soul with my favourite foods and wine and spent time with friends instead of languishing at home and drowning myself in work. 

I had marks around my nipples where my stranger had nipped and pinched, and the ends of them were reddish-pink from his attentions.  I ran my palms over them, remembering how it felt when he had cupped my breast at the end.  It had been a possessive and affectionate gesture that didn’t really fit his MO.  I put my foot on the basin and looked at my spread pussy, assessing the ‘damage’.  It was red and swollen underneath; angry looking.  He really did fuck me raw.  My girl wasn’t angry though; she was greedy.  She wanted more.

The shower was bliss on my aching muscles and soothed my sore flesh.  I felt sad to wash all trace of him from my body, watching the water disappear in its plughole spiral, thinking about his sweat that was vanishing with it. As I towelled myself dry I felt a touch of sadness.  Not a lot, just a hint.  He had made a big impression on me in a way.  He’d woken me up.

One night. 

It would have to be enough.

I dressed to impress, in a black fitted skirt suit, pink blouse and my highest black heels.  I needed to make a powerful impression to back up my sales pitch.  I would usually have put on some sexy lingerie under an outfit like that but instead I wore simple cotton panties to avoid any unnecessary pressure on my tender lady parts.  Applying flawless makeup and simple jewellery I wondered what the offices would be like.   Black Gold Pharmaceuticals was a global operation but this was their head office.  I suspected it would be clinical, with uber professional receptionists and glass lifts. 

I had a light breakfast in the hotel restaurant; well, pancakes and fruit.  Who can resist the allure of American buttermilk pancakes with a growling stomach?  On my way out I had to walk past the hotel bar and I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the night before.  I took a taxi to the offices of my client, computer in briefcase, professional and ready for my sales pitch.

As I expected, the offices were modern and Spartan.  The tall glass building opened through revolving doors into an echoingly cavernous lobby area with clusters of Barcelona chairs, sleek glass tables and eclectic potted plants and statues.  The employees that were heading in or out seemed efficient and professional.  The receptionist was polite and immaculate – a cross between an air hostess and a make-up counter girl – and I was escorted to the meeting room where I would be meeting Roger Davidson, my longstanding contact who I had never met in person but had video-conferenced with regularly.  I waited for fifteen minutes in the stark room, wondering what the holdup could be but as I shuffled back through my papers there was a brisk knock.  I stood up and faced the door, hand ready to shake Roger’s but it wasn’t him entering the room with a wicked smile on his face. 

“Rebecca,” said a deep and familiar voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.  “I’m Andrew Costner, CEO of Black Gold Pharmaceuticals.  It’s so nice to finally put a face to a name.”  He grinned at me broadly and I died a little inside.  “Take a seat.  Can I get you a tea or coffee?”  When I flopped back on the chair in shocked horror, I forgot about my sore pussy and moaned when my bottom hit the hard surface.  Andrew laughed.  “Gin and tonic then, or shall we make it a whisky?”