The Billionaire's Plaything
Page 2
“No,” I whimpered, embarrassed. I moaned as a stinging blow landed on my ass. A crop. Of course.
“Don’t lie to me!” Another blow landed on my other cheek. “I can see your cunt dripping all over my nice marble floor. You loved every moment of it, didn’t you?”
“Yes!” I moaned, both dreading and needing him to whip me again. “Yes, sir, I loved it!” I was rewarded as sharp strikes landed across my tender ass.
“You’re a good little slut,” Carter said approvingly. “And you look positively delicious with your wet pussy and your red ass. What would you like as a reward?”
“You,” I whispered.
“Louder.”
“You! Please, sir, fuck me!” I cried, flushed.
“Good girl, he said, his voice heavy with desire. “You’ll get what you want…but not yet.”
Carter was very, very good with the crop. Each strike was perfectly placed and timed so I couldn’t anticipate where it would land. He never broke the skin or hit me too hard, but soon the tender skin of my ass felt like it was on fire as red welts rose up across my soft flesh. I’d never realized how pain could heighten pleasure, how the two of them could become one and the same, but as the crop landed in stinging blows across my raw skin, all I could do was shamelessly beg Carter for more.
Every so often, Carter would pause, probing at my dripping pussy with the crop. I nearly screamed when he first teased, then lightly slapped my swollen, neglected clit. I was so worked up, so sensitive, that a mere brush of the crop over the inflamed nub felt like lightning. My pleading became incomprehensible as I strained against my bonds, desperate for release. Carter brought me to the edge over and over again, drawing me back right as I was about to climax. The room spun as I sagged against the whipping cross, utterly and totally defeated. I heard Carter murmur his approval from what felt like a million miles away and knew only that he was close to me. The heat of his body near mine sent shivers through me.
Then, with one smooth stroke, Carter’s cock slammed into me. I screamed as I came on his second stroke, my cunt spasming hard around his thick shaft. Carter grunted approval, his fingers digging hard into my hips. Each thrust sent spikes of delicious pain through my stinging ass and my aching nipples as the weights swung, tugging the swollen red nubs even harder. Carter drove into me like a piston. It felt like a mercy to be taken hard after a whole night of torment.
“You’ve been craving my cock all night,” Carter growled in my ear. One of his hands strayed up to my bouncing tit and tweaked my tender nipple. I whimpered as pain shot through me, causing my pussy to clench eagerly. “I liked seeing those nipple clamps through your dress. Very sexy. It made my cock so hard to know every person in that restaurant could see that you’re mine.”
I thrust back against him as much as I could with my limbs bound, needing his cock deeper inside me. I could feel my body tensing up again but I wasn’t there, not quite yet.
Then Carter fingered my clit hard. “Come for me again,” he said hoarsely in my ear. “Milk my cock.”
Immediately my whole body shook with the force as I came again, every muscle tense from head to food. My vision whited out for a moment as spasms of ecstasy shot through my whole body. Carter snarled triumph as he claimed my body for his own, sheathing himself to the hilt in my convulsing cunt. It was only a few more hard thrusts before his breath grew ragged and hot streams of cum erupted into me, filling my pussy and trickling down my thighs. Carter leaned his face against my sweaty skin for a long moment. I savored the moment, my whole body as limp as a cooked noodle.
“This is probably going to hurt,” Carter warned, reaching around me and removing the clamps on my nipples. I bit my lip to stifle a shout as blood flowed back into the sore nubs with a sting, but the ache felt good. Carter released my arms and legs, smiling at me. “You were excellent, Cerise.”
“And you,” I said weakly, my legs wobbling. “I can barely stand!” Ever the gentleman, Carter wrapped me in a silk bathrobe and escorted me to an adjacent lounge, with long plush couches and a tray with two glasses of wine.
As we sprawled together, recovering and sipping wine, something occurred to me.
“Carter,” I said seriously.
He looked concerned. “Yes, Cerise?”
“Am I—am I for real un-fired now?”
He laughed, startled. “Only if you’ll go on another date with me.”
“Absolutely!” My heart soared. I couldn’t wait to find out what other dark desires my billionaire master had in store.
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