All That He Demands (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 3)

by Olivia Thorne

“Literal, or figurative?”

  “Mmmmm. Both.”

  So we ordered up room service: a bottle of champagne and a selection of lovely things – the most perfect creme brulee I’d ever tasted, strawberries in whipped cream… and more chocolate.

  We sat on the sofa in the main room, lit only by the lights of the city, and alternated between kisses and feeding each other bits of the desserts.

  I was tipsy again when I purred suggestively, “Well, we did what I wanted to do… so what do you want to do?”

  “Well… we could get that camera and – ”

  “NO.”

  He laughed. “What was your list again? The list of ‘don’ts’? Nothing painful… nothing degrading…”

  “No ‘in through the out door,’” I said.

  “I don’t recall movies being on that list.”

  “And nothing that can go up on the internet. Rule number four.”

  He grinned. “Well, what if what I wanted to do bent your rules a little bit?”

  I froze with a strawberry halfway to my mouth. “Connor, I’m really not comfortable with any sort of pictures… or videos…”

  “That’s not what I was talking about.”

  I put the strawberry down. “Then… what are you talking about?”

  “Remember what I said earlier, at dinner? About you being physical?”

  I tensed up. “…spanking?”

  He just smiled.

  “Ehhhh… I’m not really turned on by the idea of that…”

  “Well, you probably only know the regular way it’s done.”

  I was amused. “Oh, so you have a special way that’s ooohhh so much better.”

  “Damn straight.”

  In spite of myself, I was a little intrigued. “Which is…?”

  “Well, first off, I like to alternate between light, sensual caresses, and tiny little slaps. Just enough to feel it.”

  “Uh huhhhh…?”

  “But the thing is, you won’t know which one is coming. I want you to anticipate one thing… but you don’t know. And I want to make you wait. I want you to lie there, not knowing whether you’re going to feel my fingers softly caressing you… or maybe my tongue licking you slowly… or the tiniest little slap. Just enough to highlight when I caress you again.”

  I swallowed. Maybe it was because I was edging over into ‘drunk’ territory, but… it kind of sounded gooood.

  “Not too much, though?” I asked, my voice thick.

  “No. You’re in total control the whole time.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, right.”

  He grinned. “No, you are. If you say ‘lighter,’ I go lighter. If you say ‘harder,’ I go harder. If you say ‘no more,’ then I quit. The only thing I’m in control of… is whether I touch you or kiss you down there… or whether I do something else.”

  My mouth suddenly felt dry, and I took a sip of champagne. “I think you like it because you’re in control.”

  “That doesn’t mean you won’t like it.”

  “No…” I admitted.

  He stared into my eyes. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

  I stayed quiet, thinking it over.

  “It’s okay, never mind,” he said, and grinned. “You just asked what I – ”

  “Okay,” I said.

  He tilted his head as though he hadn’t heard correctly. “…what?”

  “I said ‘okay.’ I’ll try it.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes. But if I don’t like it – ”

  “Then we stop. Immediately.”

  “…okay.”

  “But first I want you to do something.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “Go take a bath.”

  I reared back. “Uhhh – why? Is that a hint?!”

  He laughed. “No. Just… go take a nice sensual shower or bath. And be sure to wash everywhere.”

  I looked at him from out of the corners of my eyes, like Whatchoo talkin’ ‘bout, Willis?

  “Um… okay… are you going to come with me?”

  He settled back into the couch. “No… this is where you make me wait.”

  I bit my lip, thinking it over.

  “But if you keep doing that,” he growled, moving over next to me and seizing me in his arms, “I’m not going to be able to wait.”

  He kissed me softly, then with more heat, and I melted into him – until he broke it off.

  “Go take a bath,” he whispered.

  “Fine,” I snapped, stood up, and tipsily made my way to the bathroom.

  30

  I drew a nice, hot bubble bath (courtesy of a lilac-smelling liquid in a bottle by the tub), pinned up my hair, and luxuriated for a few minutes.

  My mind kept wandering, though, to what he planned to do.

  I was both excited and a little bit nervous.

  When he’d originally brought it up, I had a flashback of a rerun of Ally McBeal I’d seen when I was a teenager. The weird little nerdy lawyer was dating the super-hot blonde lawyer, and she wanted to be spanked. He’d resisted it for most of the episode, and then wham, out of nowhere, he’d grabbed a hairbrush and whaled away on her fanny when she wasn’t expecting it.

  Needless to say, she was not pleased.

  But she was quite surprised.

  I know the scene had been played for laughs, but that had been my only image of spanking. And it seemed weird, and laughable, and kind of dopey.

  But what Connor had described…

  …that hadn’t sounded dopey.

  It sounded kind of hot.

  So, despite how wonderful the bath felt, and how amazing it smelled, my curiosity got the better of me. I lathered myself up everywhere, every nook and cranny (I was still sulking from my assumption that he was just politely telling me I needed some freshening up downstairs, or my pits did, or something). Then I got out, took a quick shower to wash off the remaining suds, and toweled off.

  I was going to come out in one of the terrycloth robes, but I decided to wrap myself in a towel instead. I figured it was sexier: he would see my bare shoulders, the top of my chest, and all of my legs. That would be a bit more enticing than a full-body cover-up.

  So I walked out of the bathroom, lightheaded from the heat and the champagne, and stopped dead in my tracks.

  Housekeeping had made up the bed while we were out to dinner. It had still been made when I went to take my bath, but Connor had pulled back the sheets so that it was just one wide-open expanse of soft cloth.

  There were candles on both sides of the bed – tiny tea lights floating in a glass bowl. It was gorgeous, with just enough illumination to make the room look mysterious, warm, and romantic.

  And over in the corner, Connor sat in a chair, waiting.

  He had taken off his shoes and socks and untucked his shirt, unbuttoning it all the way down the front. He sat there barefoot, practically barechested, sipping something amber-colored from a round, short glass… and when I walked in the room, I saw his eyes lift to take me in.

  He just sat there, watching… but his eyes glowed in the candlelight.

  Then he slowly stood.

  God, he was beautiful.

  He was the essence of masculinity, his hair slightly disheveled, his chiseled muscles cut by shadow under the white shirt.

  “Get on the bed,” he said huskily, his voice thick with desire, as he put down the glass.

  I went over and sat on the edge of the bed, my insides jumping with butterflies, my gaze roving up and down that beautiful chest, up to his eyes, and then back down to those gorgeous abs.

  I wanted to touch them so bad.

  “Not like that,” he whispered. “Turn around so you’re kneeling on the bed.”

  That made me even more nervous, but I stood up, turned around, and kneeled on my knees, my body straight up in the air.

  “Now bend over,” he said.

  I blushed. “Um, that’s not going to be my most flattering – ”

&n
bsp; “Quiet,” he ordered.

  Not mean, but… firmly.

  “No talking,” he said.

  I gritted my teeth and leaned over on all fours. At least I still had the towel still around me… but I was basically giving away a full peep show down below.

  As he walked towards the bed, he shed his shirt on the ground. I watched, my mouth beginning to water, as I saw all the muscles move in his arms and shoulders, like a panther stalking its prey.

  He stepped behind me and I tensed up, my eyes wincing, preparing for the first slap.

  Instead, he leaned over and kissed my neck. Softly, sweetly. Romantically.

  A flush of pleasure raced through me.

  And then he placed one hand on my shoulder and pushed softly.

  There was no way I could have resisted him if he’d truly pushed hard, but he didn’t. He was just letting me know what he wanted, with a minimum of force.

  So I gave it to him. I sank down so that my face and forearms were now against the bed, with my ass the highest point of my body.

  I wasn’t exactly happy about it… though I have to admit, I was a little turned on by that kiss.

  That, and how he took control of me.

  And I was damn glad I’d taken that bath and lathered up everywhere.

  Then, slowly, he knelt down behind me.

  I braced again and winced…

  …and felt his fingertip, cool and soft, caress me from the curve of my left cheek all the way down the back of my thigh.

  He took his time. It tickled… but it also made me want more.

  Then his other hand slowly enveloped my right cheek. (Not my face, by the way, just to be clear.)

  He was soft, like he was cradling something with infinite care.

  And his whole hand moved down the back of my right thigh.

  Okay, if this was spanking, I could get into this.

  I waited… and nothing happened. I winced –

  And then I felt his lips, soft and firm, as they kissed my left cheek. A long, steady pressure.

  Oh my God.

  His fingertips played softly over both cheeks, so gentle and seductive… and as the tickle and excitement of his touch moved down the backs of my thighs, his face touched my right cheek – and he licked. Lightly. Softly.

  I breathed out a little sigh.

  His hands moved up to my torso, found the fold in the towel, and undid it so that it fell away from my body and onto the bed.

  I was lying there, completely naked, with my ass in the air.

  And I liked it.

  He licked me again, this time on the inside of my thigh, slowly traveling up to my lips. I was just getting ready for the delicious pleasure of him licking me all over when I felt it.

  The first little slap.

  My eyes widened.

  It wasn’t much more than a hard pat.

  It didn’t hurt, not at all.

  But then, while I was recovering from the surprise, I felt his tongue… down there.

  So light, so gentle, just barely touching my lips.

  I gasped as the tip of his tongue parted me the tiniest bit.

  Then the pleasure disappeared, and I felt another little slap… this time harder.

  “Alright?” he whispered.

  “Yes,” I whispered back.

  His hands began running over my back, and he began to kiss my cheeks again, slowly at first, alternating kisses and licks, and my eyes closed with the growing excitement –

  Slap.

  My eyes jolted open again.

  That had felt kind of… good.

  Like the vibrations were jostling something deep inside me.

  “Too much?” he whispered.

  I shook my head, moving it back and forth against the sheets. “No.”

  His hands reached through my legs, and his hands came up around my breasts, taking my nipples in his palms. He began to fondle me, softly, slowly, sensually –

  And I felt his tongue lick at my lips again.

  But wetter.

  More urgent.

  And this time, I felt him plunge deeper.

  I gasped with pleasure.

  One hand stayed on my left breast, gently massaging it, but the other hand withdrew.

  I waited, caught between the luscious bliss as he licked me below, and the anticipation of the brief sting of his hand on my skin.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  And waited.

  The not knowing was unbearable.

  And then he slapped me again.

  Harder.

  Jostling me deeper.

  But the second after he did, his tongue plunged deep inside me.

  I cried out from the slight pain, and moaned louder from the pleasure.

  He pulled out.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Don’t stop,” I begged.

  I could almost hear him grin, I swear to God.

  And then he began to fuck me with his tongue.

  Moving it in, and out, and in, and out, letting it slip out and lick my lips, barely touch my clit, then slip in, and out, and in, and out.

  All the while, his head was moving. Like his hips would if he were thrusting inside me.

  Now, in the present, I’m super-embarrassed thinking about it. About what he was seeing.

  But sweet Lord O’Mighty if I gave a damn about that at the time.

  I just laid there, my rear end in the air, bucking back and forth as he slammed lightly into me, his tongue going deeper and deeper, teasing me, making me want him even more.

  And every so often, a sharp little slap! against my rear end, mixing just a tiny bit of pleasure with pain, jostling me deep inside, adding an extra little unh to the sweet ecstasy of his tongue licking me inside and out, dancing across my lips and clit and deep inside me.

  Then his tongue withdrew… and I felt his fingers slide inside me, like the other night when he took me at the window. They curled downward, stroking my g-spot, revving up my desire even further, sending little liquid bits of fire all the way down to my toes.

  I was moaning pretty loudly when he did it.

  He trailed his tongue to the back end of my lips… and then softly licked upwards.

  To back THERE.

  My eyes shot open wide.

  “WHOA,” I said, though my voice came out kind of strangled.

  “Please,” he whispered.

  “I don’t…” I started, but never quite finished, because his fingers were still stroking my g-spot, building up the incredible blissful pleasure, never letting up.

  I looked back at him. It was quite a feat, lying in that position and craning my head back at that angle – and an even bigger feat to keep any sort of presence of mind, considering how he kept stroking me, caressing me, pushing me closer and closer to orgasm.

  He saw me move and looked right at me, his eyes halfway between demanding and begging.

  “Please,” he whispered insistently.

  I lay there, struggling between the rising ecstasy between my legs and the storm of negative thoughts in my mind.

  No!

  It’s bad!

  He can’t do THAT!

  It’s dirty!

  It’s naughty!

  But the look in his eyes…

  The wanting, the lusting, the needing…

  It pushed me over the edge.

  I gave in.

  “…just… a little…” I whispered, and closed my eyes as another wave of bliss started rising through me.

  He touched me so lightly at first, I wasn’t sure he was touching me at all. Just the tip of his tongue.

  Then a little more pressure.

  And all the while, his fingers caressing me inside, making me feverish with pleasure.

  Then a little more pressure…

  …and it felt good.

  I think I was shocked by that as much as I was by the fact he was actually doing it.

  His tongue traced softly back down to my lips as his fingers sti
ll moved inside me, filling me, moving almost in a circular way along with the curling motion that was driving me crazy.

  Then he licked back up, then down to my lips, then up again…

  …and then he softly entered me.

  I moaned.

  It was weird, it was wrong, it was bad, it was hot, it was so hot, it was kind of distracting, it was – I don’t know. It was everything all at once. Soft, and light, and wet, and warm, and utterly wrong, bad, slutty, sinful, not what good girls do –

  – and I was loving it.

  His tongue began to thrust softly inside me as his fingers brought me to a fever pitch. I could feel his smooth face press into me over and over and over, just the way his hips might slap against me if he were thrusting inside me doggy-style. And his fingers were making me crazy, filling me up, pressing against me, as he was doing that other thing, my whole body awash in crazy sensations, and then suddenly I came, my whole body bucking and trembling and on fire of the sweetest kind.

  I screamed into the sheets, grabbing them between my fingers, gripping them, holding on for dear life until the glorious convulsions wracking my body slowly abated, and just left my thighs trembling with weakness.

  “Stop, stop,” I choked out, and put a hand back there to stop him.

  He did, immediately, and I fell over to the side quivering.

  He slowly crawled up the bed, rubbing his face on the sheets before he started kissing me along my back.

  He peeked over the top of my arm like a mischievous little boy who knew he shouldn’t have done something… but enjoyed doing it anyway.

  “You’re…” I whispered, looking at him.

  “I’m what?” he asked, resting his chin on my arm.

  “You’re bad,” I said in a low voice, with just a throaty bit of lust mixed in.

  He grinned. “I think you’re bad, too.”

  I shook my head ‘no,’ though it was hard to do with one side resting against the sheets.

  He rolled me over onto my back and slid on top of me. “I think you are,” he whispered, and began to kiss my breasts.

  “No… I’m a good girl…”

  “No… no, I’m pretty sure you’re a very bad girl.”

  I moaned as he sucked on my nipples, and my eyes rolled up into my head… and then I seized his face in my hands and brought him up so I could look him in the eyes.

  “Why did you do that?” I whispered.

  “Because I like it.”