Owned by the Billionaire

by Lacy Dae

  Mesmerizing by his reassuring voice, I nodded hesitantly and slid my hand between my legs. The minute my fingertips grazed my clit, I gasped, biting back a moan. I was so sensitive, so thoroughly aroused by the hours of erotic torture I had just endured, that the merest brush sent pulses of pleasure through me. Gently, I caught my hard clit between my fingers, squeezing and rubbing the tender nub.

  "Take off your panties." His voice had gone husky, and unthinkingly, I obeyed, sliding the damp fabric down my legs. Panting, I spread my thighs, leaning back against the arm of the plush couch. My teasing fingers were glistening from my nectar, and I could feel the hot liquid seeping down my twat, all the way to my asshole. The trickling sensation made me writhe, my hips thrusting upwards against my hand, and I picked up speed, twisting and pulling more roughly on my swollen clit.

  My eyes had drifted shut as waves of pleasure lifted me, wiping all thoughts from my mind. I whimpered out loud as the peak I was so desperate for continued to loom just out of reach. I forgot where we were, forgot even the possible listeners just outside the fitting room door, in my overwhelming need for release. The couch creaked as Miles sat on the other end, and the thought of him watching me pleasure myself made me hotter than ever before. "Fuck yourself with your fingers, darling." I eagerly obeyed the hoarse command.

  For the first time, I slipped a finger into my pussy. I'd been so repressed that I'd studiously avoided even touching myself down there, much less slamming my finger deep into my quivering sheath. The wet heat of my pussy, and the velvety folds clenching around my finger drove a throaty gasp from me. But the awkward angle kept me from hitting the special spot I knew existed deep inside, and I sobbed in frustration, my hips lifting from the couch. "I can't... it isn't..." I opened my eyes, gasping and groaning as that shimmering peak faded away once more.

  Miles was staring at my pussy, his eyes hot. His hard cock was tenting his slacks, a promise of pleasure that I suddenly couldn't live without. I pulled my hand from between my legs, and his eyes rose to mine, questioningly. I licked dry lips, gathering my courage. "Please, fuck me. I need... please...Oh God, just fuck me already!"

  He laughed and rose to his feet beside the couch. I reached out a trembling hand and slid down his zipper, feeling his firm cock straining against the smooth fabric. A convenient gap in his boxers freed the hard length of his dick, with a bead of milky fluid already dewing its swollen head. Helplessly enthralled, I leaned forward, licking the salty droplet away. He groaned as I pulled the swollen head of his cock into my mouth, curiously exploring its texture with my tongue. Inexperienced but eager, I sucked on his cock until he pulled back with grunt.

  "Later for that, darling!" He paused, looking down at me, and for a moment I pictured myself, sprawled across the couch, my thighs parted and sticky with my juices, the sweetly innocent dress rucked up around my waist. I blushed, and he grinned, insufferably pleased with himself. But I was too turned on to care.

  "Where... how...?" My whispered questions trailed off as he held up a hand.

  "Get on your knees, darling."

  I swung around on the couch, bracing myself against the padded arm. A cool breeze swept over my ass as he flipped my skirt across my back. The delicious naughtiness of the moment sent a shiver rippling through me.

  "I'm not ready to take your virginity yet, Sophia. And definitely not here!" I moaned as his questing fingertip probed my asshole, the tender ring wet with my juices. My body had already loosened from the prolonged arousal, and his finger slid in easily. He groaned as he felt the clinging heat of my body. Withdrawing his finger abruptly, he pressed the broad head of his cock against my asshole.

  I whimpered as the tight ring stretched around his hard cock, the now familiar stretchy pain morphing into twisted pleasure. As he sank into me, I rocked my hips back, urging him deeper. He took the hint, and I gasped as he thrust into me, sinking his hard cock fully into my ass in a single motion. The stinging pain and throbbing pleasure pushed me over the edge, and I came with that first rough thrust. The coiled tension inside me exploded into a nova of pure sensation, a tumbling fiery mass of pleasure that surged through me in a blazing wave. I cried out as my vision dimmed, my mind whiting out from the immense tide of bliss.

  Feeling my body clench around his cock, Miles began to pound into me. He plunged his thick dick into my asshole in time with the after-shocks, as I gasped and clawed the couch with each stroke. Impossibly, the incredible tension began to rise again, and I panted and moaned as he fucked my ass, thrusting roughly into me. I could feel his cock swell inside me, his focused rhythm faltering as his own peak approached, and then he cried out above me, jerking and shaking as his hot load spurted into my ass. His twitching cock sent me over once more, and I screamed as the almost painful pleasure spread through me, nearly electrical in intensity, leaving me tingling and limp in the aftermath.

  Gasping for breath, Miles collapsed over, forcing me down onto the couch. We lay there for a moment, panting and trembling, until a timid knock came from the door. "S-sir? Miss? Are.. are you alright in there?"

  I choked on my laughter, throttling down the inappropriate response, as Miles pulled himself off of me. He called out a reassurance to the worried attendant, promising that we were almost done, the whole time shaking his head at my silent giggles. Quickly, we straightened our clothes, catching our breaths and trying to look... well. Trying not to look like people who had just enjoyed a rough fuck in a public fitting room. We weren't entirely successful.

  I carefully avoided meeting anyone's gaze as we left the store. Miles was totally unfazed by any potential embarrassment, and ordered the delivery of around a dozen outfits to be sent to his home. When I started to protest the expense, he just raised an eyebrow, and I shut up. His driver pulled the car around, and we left the store, no doubt leaving the clerks with a juicy bit of gossip they'd be repeating for years. Snuggled against Miles in the back seat, I found that I really didn't care. I was still adrift in a sea of warm bliss.

  The comforting glow faded abruptly, when Miles pulled out his cell phone, sudden tension gripping his frame. He frowned and then spoke, his voice detached and precise. "Ah, it's almost time. George, take us to the office."

  I sat up beside him, concern breaking through the fog in my mind. "Why, what's going on?"

  Miles met my eyes, his gaze bleak and distant. "I told you I had an appointment."

  Shivering in a sudden chill, I bit my lip, and the drive passed quietly. George dropped us off in front of a silvery glass tower, and we passed through the doors into a shocked pool of silence. Heads turned as we walked past the security and reception desks, and whispers broke out in our wake. My stomach started to churn as a nasty suspicion grew in my mind.

  Alone together in the elevator, I watched him pull out a key for the top suite, solidifying my fears. I couldn't bear the suspense, and broke the tense silence with a timid question. "Are... are we meeting with your ex-wife?"

  A cold nod was the only response I. I hugged myself, shaking and sick with pounding anxiety. Blinking hard, I forced down a question that I really didn't want answered. It burned on my lips regardless.

  The quiet dings of the elevator gained the weight of a death knell, and I watched the lights blink up the long line of numbers. Finally reaching the top, the doors opened with a soft sigh. Unable to stop myself, I grabbed Miles' arm as he stepped forward. "Miles? Are you giving me back to her?" My voice quavered despite my best efforts to sound unconcerned.

  His blank face slowly turned to me, nearly lifeless, so deeply had he withdrawn. He blinked a few times, and then forced a ragged smile. "No, Sophia, I'm not. At least," he paused and my heart dropped to my toes. "At least, I don't think I am."

  With that dubious reassurance, he left the elevator and I trailed a few steps behind, my feet heavy and dragging. The secretary just pointed to a large set of double doors, and they opened at a touch, revealing a glossy conference room. Three people were waiting for us, already seated on th
e far side of the gleaming table. Their heads turned as the doors opened, and I paused on the threshold, frozen in place by the raw aggression that seemed to fill the room.

  Miles strode forward resolutely. Pulling out a chair, he politely waited for me to sit. It took a moment as I forced my trembling legs to carry me to the table. He didn't seem to notice, and dropped easily into the next chair over. "Well, Clarice, you asked to see me, and here I am. What do you want?" His voice was blandly polite. Disturbed and afraid, I huddled down in my chair.

  For all her fearsome reputation, Clarice Sinclaire-Jensen was a slight woman, shorter and slimmer than me. Her auburn hair was coiled high in an elegant french twist, and her rich brown pantsuit was tastefully demure. Fire shot through her blue eyes as Miles' spoke, though, belying her careful appearance. This was a dangerous woman.

  She was flanked on either side by huge men, battered and scarred brutes. They leered at me briefly, stripping me bare with their eyes, before returning their hard gazes to Miles. I was glad to be rid of their unnerving attention. What was going on here, anyways? Were they her bodyguards?

  My wandering attention snapped back to Clarice when she finally spoke, her soft voice poisonously sweet. To my total surprise, she spoke directly to me, ignoring Miles. "Hello, Rachel Menard. It's nice to see you again."

  My stomach turned to ice. She knew my real name! Glacially slow, Miles turned to me and arched a brow. I shrugged helplessly in response. Surely he hadn't thought my name was actually Sophia Anders. If anything ever called for pseudonyms, virgin auctions certainly did! He stared at me for a long moment, and then turned away without a sound.

  Clarice was avidly staring at this little drama, obviously pleased with the blow she'd dealt her ex-husband. God, why was she such a bitch? Hot anger flared and I spoke without thinking. "I don't believe we've met, actually. I don't think you had the balls to show up at the auction yourself."

  She smiled thinly, and my heart sank. "Of course not. What sort of depraved individual would attend such a thing? Desperate virgins selling themselves to the highest bidder, good Lord. Tell me, Rachel, how does it feel to be a whore?" I cringed, and she went for blood, sneering at me. "I see that you're wearing my cast-offs, as well as fucking them."

  Curiously, her attack on Miles fanned my faltering rage more than the personal insult had. I sat up straighter, lifting my chin. "Some people don't appreciate what they've got."

  She pursed her lips thoughtfully, tapping her chin. "See, now, that's the lack of experience talking. I bet he loves that about you. In fact," she leaned forward, meeting my eyes dead-on, "I'm entirely sure that that's the only thing he values about you."

  Miles cut in, his voice tired. "Get to the point, Clarice. I'm tired of your claws."

  She ignored him once more, her eyes boring into mine. "Are you still a virgin, Rachel?" She read my answer on my face, and smiled viciously. "I knew it! I knew he'd drag the whole filthy thing out as long as he could, make you play his warped games. Excellent."

  I protested this unfair characterization, but she held up a hand for silence, eerily similar to Miles' now-familiar gesture. "Please, don't try to justify his perversions. I have had extensive experience with the man, after all." She shuddered delicately.

  I couldn't help glancing at Miles after this intimate insult. He didn't look at me, and all I could read from his profile was bored impatience. Clarice went on.

  "Well, that does make things easier. Alright, boys!" She gestured to the men at either side, and they brightened, their dull faces swinging towards me. "Fuck her silly. Right here, on the table."

  "Wait, what?!?" I shouted as the thugs rose to their feet. They smirked at me as they started to circle the long conference table. "No! You can't do this!"

  Clarice looked down, idly examining her nails. She spoke disinterestedly. "Actually, I can. I still own your contract, and hence, your virginity. I merely loaned you to Miles, Rachel. And now I'm loaning you to my new friends, Harry and Marco."

  She gestured at each man as she named them, and they leered at me, huge hands flexing ominously. Clarice ruthlessly continued, ignoring my sputtering denials and still inspecting her manicure. "I'm afraid they're not very polite. Quite uncivilized, really. And they love breaking in virgins; fucking you will be a real treat for them."

  The huge men were getting closer, and I leapt to my feet in growing panic. Looking up at my sudden movement, Clarice wagged a lecturing finger at me. "Ah-ah, Rachel, remember, the contract is harshly punitive should you try to evade delivery of the goods. We don't want to go there, do we? I know you really need this money for your family, after all." The blood drained from my face, leaving me cold and clammy. This evil woman clearly knew far too much about me!

  Her goons hadn't stopped moving during this speech and I was nearly within their arms-reach, trapped against the table. Panting with fear and desperate, I knelt by Miles' chair. He turned to me slowly, face still disturbingly blank. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Clarice raise a hand, and the two men stopped in their tracks. "Miles, please, help me! Don't let her do this!"

  Not meeting my eyes, he spoke, his voice dull. "And you accuse me of playing sick games. What do you want, Clarice?"

  "Why, Miles, I'm so glad you asked." Clarice beamed at us, and I itched to slap her. I clenched my fists in my lap as her sweet voice drawled on. "I just need you to vote my way at the board meeting next Wednesday, is all. Just agree to vote with me, and I'll lend Rachel to you again."

  Miles jerked back, a bit of color returning to his face. "You bitch! You know I'd never... that fucking merger is obscene, Clarice. It's against everything I ever worked for. It's against everything this company stands for!"

  Clarice rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "What the company stood for, perhaps. But times have changed." Miles hesitated, and she pressed on, her voice cuttingly sharp. "You are no longer in control here, Miles! I am. You can't stop me; you can barely even slow me down. All you can do is get your new toy hurt. Is your pride worth her suffering?" She twitched a finger, and the grinning men stepped in closer, looming over me as I knelt on the floor.

  I could see the intense conflict playing across Miles' face. The upcoming vote must be about something deeply important to him. And really, why shouldn't he value the company he built from nothing over the well-being of a girl he had met less than a day before? How could I ask him to make this sacrifice to save me from the contract I'd voluntarily signed? I was fucked anyway, quite literally. I couldn't let him do it. No, I had to stop this nightmare myself, whatever it took.

  I took a deep breath and stood up straight, squaring my shoulders. "I'll do it." My voice was barely a whisper, unheard. Nobody was even looking at me. I was a trophy being fought over, not a person, and the realization pissed me off. Anger gave me strength and I tried again, forcing the words past my reluctant tongue. "I said, I'll do it!" Everyone stared at me, startled at my shout. I swallowed hard, one hand clutching the back of my chair as my knees shook.

  Clarice opened her mouth, but I talked over her. "I signed the fucking paper, not him. This doesn't involve Miles. I'll fulfill the god-damned contract."

  Miles turned to me, his expression unreadable. I couldn't meet his eyes. God only knew what would happen next, but I was certain that I wouldn't be going home with him again. The feel of his hard body against mine flashed through my mind, the way he angered and aroused me, like no one else ever had. Selfishly, I wanted to spend more time with the infuriating, fascinating, complicated man I so recently come to know. That was an impossible fantasy, though, and I had to face reality. I looked away, biting my lip.

  Clarice had closed her mouth, her eyes calculating. I met her gaze, unflinching, and she nodded with grudging respect. "Very well, Rachel. Let's finish this."

  I swayed on my feet, blinking hard and fighting down the revulsion and terror swirling inside me. Then a huge hand closed around my upper arm, painfully tight. The bigger of the two men, Harry, dragged me forward, knocking aside c
hairs and heading for the open space on the far side of the room. I guess he didn't want to do it on the table, after all. I kept my head down, panting and trying not to stumble, my mind strangely blank and numb.

  I heard a clatter behind me, and then Clarice's hated voice. "Stay, Miles. I think you should be here as a witness. We wouldn't want any misunderstandings that would keep Rachel from getting her hard-earned money, would we?" It was a clear threat, and Miles snarled a reply. I couldn't make out the words through my growing horror. Miles was going to have to watch these brutal men fuck me, and that somehow made this horrible situation a hundred times worse.

  The huge brute released me in the center of the clear space. He rumbled a command. "Take off yer dress." His friend snickered, and I flushed. With trembling fingers, I reached for the hemline of my dress, and slowly dragged it up over my head. The crude men made appreciative lip-smacking noises as my panties and bra were exposed. I couldn't help the hot blush staining my cheeks.

  Marco reached for me first, but Harry slapped his hand away. Licking his lips, he stared at my breasts, the soft flesh jiggling in time with my shaking knees. I turned my face away as he leaned towards me, and his stubbly lips slid across my cheek. He grunted in irritation, and tangled his hand in my hair, painfully yanking my head around to face him. His wet mouth slid across mine, and his tongue probed against my tightly closed lips. I shuddered, and then whimpered as hard fingers slid between my legs.

  Marco had knelt down beside us, and his blunt fingers were shoving against my panties. He seemed perplexed by the flat vibrator sewn into the crotch, and twisted it, the hard plastic biting into my pussy. I gasped in startled pain, and Harry took the opportunity to cram his thick tongue into my mouth. I choked and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip in my hair until I couldn't move, and his intruding tongue leisurely explored my mouth.

  Impatiently, Marco ripped the vibrator away, tearing my silky panties and exposing my shaved pussy to the cool air. The sound of ripping fabric caught Harry's attention, and he finally released my mouth, looking down in confusion. "Hey!" His bass grumble made Marco look up, just in time to catch a heavy fist across his jaw. The blow knocked the smaller man to the floor, and he snarled up onto his elbows, blood leaking down his chin from a split lip. I gasped, heart pounding, but unable to move with Harry's fist in my hair. He growled at Marco, shaking my head painfully for emphasis. "I get her first, asswipe!"