This is like a dream, she thought, as his hand traveled between her legs, cupping her sex.
“Oh Sir, that feels so good,” she crooned, wriggling against the teasing touch.
Simon sighed happily as he continued his caress, moving his hand over her backside, then returning it between her legs, cupping and squeezing.
“I’m still waiting,” he reminded her.
“Sir, I’m sorry. I forgot,” she cried. “I’m ready, Sir.”
“This first time you are forgiven, next time...”
Pulling her panties up between her cheeks, he held them tightly with one hand and began spanking her with the other, landing the swats with a light, tantalizing touch, slowly increasing the force and alacrity, stopping when the spirit moved him to slide his fingers under the gusset of her knickers to tickle and tease.
“You’re so wet my dear,” he declared, slithering a finger inside her.
“Oh Sir,” she cried. “I’ve never... oooohhh,” she moaned, the teasing tip of his thumb circled her clit.
He toyed with her for a few minutes, before gripping the sides of her panties and sliding them down, revealing the sweet, succulent pussy that peeked through her thighs, glistening with its need, swollen and inviting further attention. He pulled the condom from his pocket, and throwing the robe aside, slipped the thin latex sleeve over his turgid cock.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, slapping her lightly, then running a finger over her waiting, wet crevice.
“Yes, Sir–Yes!” she cried, impulsively thrusting herself at him, the lewd and wanton act entirely out of her control.
“You are certainly enticing,” he said, taking his thumbs, spreading her apart. “Your bottom is so beautifully pink, and your cunt appears to be positively begging.”
Belle was beside herself. Her backside was tingling with a spicy peppery heat, and her need to feel his cock was unlike any carnal hunger she’d ever experienced.
“Please, Sir,” she begged. “I want you so badly. Please, please take me.”
They were the words for which he’d been waiting, and placing himself at her entrance, slid forward with a forceful, slow thrust.
Belle threw back her head, groaning with passionate gratitude. He moved with slow deep strokes, each feeling more delicious than the last, each eliciting a groan of pleasure, each making her want to buck against him, but his hands were gripping her with strength and purpose, making it impossible for her to move.
“Up on the bed and drop on to your elbows,” he said, huskily, pulling himself out.
Quickly Belle scrambled on to the mattress and fell forward, feeling decadent and deliciously depraved as she assumed the shameless position. Climbing behind her, he wasted no time in surging back inside, but rather than delivering slow, forceful thrusts, he pumped her quickly, then abruptly stopped, and with his open palm delivered a series of brisk blows to her reddened behind.
She cried out in startled surprise, but as quickly as he had stopped his thrusting he started again, his hands busy clutching her hips, bringing her closer and closer to her moment. Just as she cried out, ready for her release, he stopped again, his cock buried in her depths, and repeated the zesty smacks.
Belle was caught up in a tidal wave of sensation. His pattern of spanking, then fucking, then spanking again, continued unabated. Her bubble was growing ever bigger, threatening to break her into little pieces if it was ever allowed to erupt.
“You have such a spankable behind,” he declared, reigning several hard slaps in rapid succession, “and a truly fuckable pussy,” he announced, beginning his robust plunging yet again.
“Sir,” she cried, grabbing a pillow, “I think I’m going to scream!”
“Go ahead! Scream, and come for me,” he demanded, and feeling his own climax approach, purposefully increased his tempo, riding her forward.
She could feel it, the tumultuous explosion about to materialize, and for the briefest of moments she couldn’t breathe. With one quick jerk, she pulled the pillow under her face and buried her head in the soft, cushiony down.
“Let it go,” he commanded, spanking her with one hand while he gripped her with the other. “Come on sweet girl. Let me feel you. Let me hear you scream!”
She was almost afraid to let loose, afraid she would break into a thousand tiny fragments, but her fears had no say as the eruption hurtled through her body, her pussy walls gripping him, pulsing violently, dictating his own outburst, and he groaned as his climax spasmed through his cock, filling its thin sock with his hot, creamy sauce.
The intensity of his orgasm shocked him. Simon had experienced many sexual adventures and had tremendous self-discipline, but he could not have controlled his eruption had he tried. When the surging tide abated, and his flaccid member slipped from its happiest of homes, he felt weak and drained. Her body flattened lifeless on the mattress, and almost stumbling from the bed he made his way to the bathroom.
Belle was breathless. He had said he would devour her and he had. For several minutes she was unable to move, and when she felt him return, sliding on the bed next to her, it took a supreme effort to roll her body to face him.
“Hello beautiful Belle,” he crooned. “You are absolutely delicious.”
“Simon...” was all she could manage, and she nestled her body against him.
His hand moved down her back and cupped her hot cheeks, then wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her even closer. Lost in each other, lost in the post-orgasmic bliss, lost in the wordless wonder of the moment, they released themselves into a soft, sleepy slumber.
The satiated, tranquil state did not last long. From the moment Simon called Cecil and informed him he was available, Simon’s phone did not stop ringing, but Simon wasn’t the only one who had people chasing him. Besides a number of emails, Susan Caldwell had left several messages on Belle’s voice mail.
Belle wasn’t up to answering all the questions, as important as she knew them to be. After her extraordinary experience under Simon’s sexual dominance she needed to catch her breath, so after a quick shower she decided on a walk. The hotel gardens were beautiful and serene, and to wander the grounds watching the swans glide by was just what she needed.
As she ambled along one of the many pathways, inhaling the soft scents of the lush foliage, she could feel herself relaxing, then smiled, memories of her morning wafting around her like the floral, aromatic air.
“Belle!”
So lost had she been in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Joseph Cardinelli walking towards her.
“How are you?” he asked, true concern in his voice.
“Great,” she grinned, the images continuing to swirl in her head. “You look very spiffy,” she added, noticing he was dressed in a business suit and tie.
“Thank you,” he replied, pleased with the compliment. He’d taken great care in picking just the right suit for his interview with Simon later that day.
“Special occasion?”
“Yes! I’m interviewing with Mr. Sinclair. He said he may have a job for me.”
“That’s fantastic,” Belle beamed, genuinely pleased for him.
“How are you feeling, really? That was quite an ordeal you went through yesterday.”
“I’m fine, better than fine,” she smiled, thinking she was glad the whole thing had happened. Sean’s evil ways had brought her and Simon together. “How can I ever thank you for being such a hero. From what I understand you were amazing.”
“All in the line of duty,” he answered, a little embarrassed by her effusive gratitude.
“Quite honestly, I would love to have seen you land that punch.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” he chuckled. “Forget what you see in the movies. It’s not a pretty sight, and the sound isn’t particularly appealing either.”
“Well, thank you,” she repeated. “I really owe you.”
“No, you don’t. Besides, if I get this job with Sinclair Holdings I’ll be very happy. Now I must get to w
ork. Still have to make a living. I don’t have the job yet!”
“Good luck. Hope I see you again soon,” she replied.
“Thank you, and I’m sure you will,” he promised, and with a wave of his hand moved quickly away, striding down the pathway out of sight.
Wandering a little further she found a wrought iron bench, and sat down to watch the swans. The sun was shooting its light through the branches of the overhead trees, and she could hear the singing chatter of the birds. Closing her eyes she relived the feel of Simon’s body against hers, the touch of his fingers as he had tantalized and teased her, the exhilaration of his spanking hand, and the tenderness and caring she had felt when they were resting, nestled together.
I wish it could have lasted forever, she thought.
She closed her eyes, embracing the smells and sounds of the abundant nature surrounding her, sinking into the warm, salacious memory.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
She jumped, startled, and flickering her eyes up, found Simon’s smiling face looking down at her.
“Sorry–I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized.
“I’m not usually that jumpy,” she admitted. “I guess...”
“You guess you’re still a bit jittery from yesterday?” he finished.
“I suppose I must be.”
“So much for being absolutely and totally recovered,” he grinned.
“I am mostly,” she grinned back, “but, what are you doing out here?”
“When I couldn’t find you I got worried.”
“You did?”
“Why are you so surprised?” he frowned.
“You’re just so busy, and everything,” she replied, still finding it astonishing that he had anything more than a passing interest in her. He was Simon Sinclair!
Simon stepped in front of the bench and reached for her hand. His fingers curled around hers, and he pulled her to her feet and into his chest.
“You,” he said firmly, clutching her hair, “are absolutely the most luscious thing...” A moment later his lips were on hers, kissing her with a deep, fervent heat, causing a thousand tiny butterflies to burst from their cocoons.
“Simon,” she muttered, burying her face into his soft cashmere sweater.
She could feel his hardness pressing against her thigh, and wished they were back in his bedroom, wished they were naked, wished he was slapping her backside, wished he would kiss her again with those full, moist, maddeningly delicious lips.
“I have to get back. Things are going a bit crazy,” he said somberly. “Are you going to stay here with the swans?”
“No,” she replied. “I have some calls to make, and emails.”
“Come on then,” he said, taking her hand. “We’ll walk back together. Have you had any lunch? Even after that big breakfast I’m starving. Will you order us something?”
“Sure–yes. I’m hungry too,” she replied, and hungry for more of you, she silently added.
“For three. Cecil will be staying.”
He was worried about me, she thought happily, as they walked back to the suite.
“Do you know anywhere small and intimate we can have dinner?” he asked, as they neared the door.
“I’m sure I can think of somewhere,” she answered, thrilled that she would be with him again that evening.
“Great. Make a reservation for around 7.”
“Um–sure.”
“Is there a problem,” he asked, sensing hesitation.
“No, not exactly. I just have to go home and find something suitable to wear.”
“You can if you wish, but I’d prefer it if you popped down to the shops and bought yourself something brand new. Parker will drive you and he has my credit card.”
Belle looked up at him, feeling suddenly awkward.
“No–I couldn’t–I mean–”
“Hmmm. Because?” he answered, a disapproving crease crossing his brow.
“I don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right.”
They were nearing the door of the suite and Belle could hear Cecil’s voice. It was animated and it was obvious he was stressed. Simon glanced across, then back at her.
“I have to go in and deal with this. I really do want to buy you something fabulous. It would make me very happy,” he said, looking at her intently. Then leaning forward he added, “I could make it an order, and if you don’t obey me I’ll be forced to pull out the bathroom brush.”
Belle felt a tingle surge through her sex, and her nipples instantly prickled against the soft fabric of her light sweater.
“Uh. Okay. Thank you,” she stammered. “Very much.”
He pulled back and smiled down at her.
“That’s better! After lunch Parker will whisk you away.”
“Right. After lunch,” she agreed, her face blushing furiously.
Taking her hand he led her into the suite, but was immediately grabbed by Cecil’s urgent look and gesticulating hand motions. She hurried into her own room, and after ordering lunch, placed the call to Susan Caldwell.
It was a long conversation, during which Belle learned of the report of the other victim, a young woman in Sean’s office who had been with Sean’s company only a few months. He had invited the new agent to sit an open house with him, and when they were closing up had attacked her, then used his power and position to intimidate her into silence.
Belle thought she knew who the young woman was, an appealing dark-haired girl with a pleasant, easy manner. The thought of the smarmy Sean being such a beast fueled her anger, vanquishing any doubts she may have had about pressing charges.
She promised Susan she was capable of completing the sale, and assured her that Simon Sinclair had been the ultimate protector, and he had no reservations about continuing with the purchase of the house.
“I’m here for you, Belle, and the company is behind you 100%,” her manager promised.
“Thank you, Susan. I’m fine. Might want to take some time off though, when this deal closes escrow,” she replied.
“I think that’s a good idea. You take care of yourself and let me know if you need anything.”
“I will, Susan. Bye for now.”
“Goodbye, Belle–be safe.”
Belle hung up the phone and stared out the paned windows. The sun was casting shadows across the patio, and an unexpected wave of weariness engulfed her. She’d been sitting on the bed, and laying back on the pillows she closed her eyes, knowing if she happened to doze off Simon would knock on her door when lunch arrived.
As she napped she could feel Simon’s arms around her, his soft strong fingers sending waves of delicious feeling through her sex, his mouth and lips wandering across her body, and as her fingers found their way between her legs she couldn’t help but surrender to her need. Frustrated with the confinement of her slacks, she pulled them off, along with her panties, and returned to the blissfulness of her dreamlike state.
He was kissing her neck, whispering in her ear, pushing her legs apart, lightly slapping the delicate skin on the inside of her thighs. She sank deeper into her fantasy, and imagined her wrists tied above her head...
“What exactly do you think you’re doing young lady?”
Belle’s eyes shot open, and she found Simon staring down at her. Abruptly she pulled her hand back, reaching for something with which to cover herself, but he grabbed her wrist.
“Oh no you don’t,” he scolded, and leaning across, grasped her other arm, bringing her two hands together. “Lock your fingers please, put your arms above your head and close your eyes.”
Gulping, Belle did as he instructed, and though mortified and embarrassed that she’d been caught, a surge of sexual heat shuddered through her loins.
“Another rule. No touching yourself without my express permission,” he said firmly.
“Yes, Sir,” she managed, the decree making her squirm.
“Lunch is here,” he murmured, running the tips of his fingers across her swollen pus
sy.
“Ohhhh,” she moaned. “Simon–I don’t think–!”
‘Shush. Lunch is here,” he continued, his fingers continuing their play, “and you’re going to sit at the table like the perfect little lady that you are, and you’re going to think about how we’re going to have dinner tonight.”
“Yes...” she moaned, getting lost in the tantalizing teasing as his finger circled and agitated her clit.
“You’re going to be completely naked under whatever dress you buy, and you’re going to be sitting on a very red, very tingling bottom,” he promised.
“Ooooh, Sir,” she groaned, as he withdrew his hand and slapped the inside of her thigh.
“Get dressed, and come and have lunch,” he finished, standing up.
Belle opened her eyes and saw the back of him as he left the room. Her thigh was tingling and her pussy was ravenous. How would she get through the lunch, let alone the afternoon?
Sitting up, she stared down at the bright red palm print on the virginal white skin. So many times she had imagined being slapped there. Now she’d felt it, and she wanted more.
How did he know? she wondered. It’s as if he can read my mind.
She realized she was loitering. Jumping from the bed she hurriedly donned her discarded clothing, and running a brush quickly through her hair, she scurried from the room.
The limousine snaked its way through the darkening streets of Beverly Hills. The restaurant Belle had chosen was in Santa Monica. It was small, intimate and dimly lit. There were only a few tables, each set significantly apart from one another. It was a place for clandestine meetings, hushed conversation, and outstanding food.
The shopping trip had been a fairy tale. Parker was the ultimate professional, following at a discreet distance, then standing aside as she tried one outfit after another. She had settled on a black flowing knee length dress, accented with black and midnight blue rhinestones that drifted around the scalloped neck; the sleeves were slit from the shoulder to the wrist, allowing a glimpse of her arms, and the silky fabric floated around her body like a cloud, draping in such a way as to show off her figure in a sultry, suggestive manner. It was elegantly sensual and very expensive. She had almost choked when she stared at the price tag. $4,450.
The British Billionaire Bachelor Page 9