by Simone Leigh
“Ready to eat?” he asks.
I suddenly realise I am starving. “Oh yes, I am.”
“We’ll have something sent up. Order what you want. I’ll have steak, rare.”
I order the same for myself, slightly self-conscious to be asking for service from people I was working with only the day before.
“What happened downstairs in the lobby, Elizabeth? You looked upset as you came in.”
“I’d forgotten to give them my letter of resignation.” I said sheepishly. “They wanted to know why the maid was taking the private lift to the Penthouse.”
He looks me in the eye. “You didn’t forget. It was here. I’m sure you assumed that I would pass it along. In fact, I had realised that it is not appropriate.”
Confused, I shake my head. He continues. “You haven’t resigned. You’ve just been promoted. Yesterday, you were just as much my employee as yesterday. I own this hotel remember. We are simply working to a different contract.”
My Master takes my chin in his hand, kissing my forehead. “I’m sorry if I caused you embarrassment. I should have thought to let them know down there. I was thinking of you in other ways…”
He flashes his eyebrows at me and winks, and I laugh, even as I think, “He’s apologising to me?”
“Now,” he continues, “a break I think, for rest and refreshment.”
A break? And then?
There is a knock at the door. “Room service.”
He smiles at me. “Ah, perfect timing.” Then he calls out. “Leave it there.”
And to me. “I’ll make sure that things are settled with your previous manager. For now, I don’t see the need for you to meet any of the other staff.”
He waits a moment, then opens the door, bringing in a trolley bearing our meals, plus champagne on ice and strawberries and cream.
An hour later, meal eaten, and a glass or two inside me, I am lying on the fur rug in front of the fire, eating strawberries dipped in champagne and cream, revelling in the sheer luxury of it all. My Master, sitting on the couch has, I notice, drunk only a little of the champagne and is watching me closely.
As I dip each bright red berry in the wine, then the cream, I pass it, dripping, to my mouth, sucking it gradually through my lips. Realising I am now giving a performance, I take my time, locking my eyes with his, as I lick and suck the creamy champagne from the fruit. I see the approval in his eyes as, one at a time, I slowly consume each fruit.
He watches as I caress each strawberry with my tongue, licking it clean of the dripping cream before gently biting in and swallowing.
He stands up, towering over me, lying at his feet. “On your knees, Elizabeth.”
I obey. Looking up at my Master, it is clear what I am being instructed to do. I rise to kneel before him, untie the belt of his robe, and open the robe to expose his already hard cock.
Only an hour ago, this man came, explosively inside me, and yet now, again, his erection stands proud.
“I’ve not had a shower yet Elizabeth. Lick me clean.”
I lean forward to kiss away the drop of pre-cum already glistening at the tip, sucking my lips at the salt-sweet flavour of him. Then I start to lick slowly at the head of his shaft, tracing its contours with my tongue, exploring and probing with the tip. I feel my Master shudder and hear his gasp. His voice is hoarse as he says to me “All of it Elizabeth.”
Compliantly, I lick the full length of his shaft, starting at the base and drawing long slow strokes up his massive, throbbing member. His breathing turns ragged and he starts to flow, as do I. My slit is wet again and juices trickle inside my thighs to my knees.
He grasps my head, winding my hair tight around his fingers. “Open your mouth.”
I do so, wondering how much of his length I can take; certainly not all of it, but he says huskily “Use your hands as well.”
Fastening my lips around him, I use my hands to take much of his length. My saturated slit is running freely with pussy juices and I use some on my hands, to make the grip I have on him, slippery and pleasurable.
His breathing is patchy and looking up, I see him looking down, watching as his cock slides in and out of my mouth. With my lips, I give him as tight as grip as I can, and with my hands, I feel his tension build. His balls tighten and harden, his musky scent growing stronger as his flow increases. I taste his essence filling my mouth and then, with a groan, he grabs my head hard, pinning me, and thrusts hard into my mouth. My hands prevent him filling my throat, but as he spurts, I gag, his cum hitting the back of my throat. His pelvis flexes and bucks as he shoots into me and cum dribbles from my lips, dripping onto my breasts.
As he relaxes, he pulls my head back, withdrawing from me a little and turning my face upwards. “Don’t even think about spitting.” he says, eyes intense as he watches me lick my lips clean and swallow his cream. He reaches down and with one finger, wipes the cum from my breast, then holds the finger to my mouth. “Finish it.” and I lick the finger clean.
“Good girl.” he says approvingly. “Now, finish your strawberries.”
The Story Continues in
The Master’s Desires
The Master’s Desires
An Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic Romance
Part Four of the
‘Bought by the Billionaire’ Series
Author: Simone Leigh
Part Four
The Master’s Desires
I am lying on a bed, blindfolded, my arms stretched wide above my head, chained to the bedposts.
I am wearing very little; a silky black camisole, stockings with black lacy tops and a matching thong which, right now, is doing little except act as a partial barrier to my flooding pussy.
My legs are spread and between them, kneeling I think, although I cannot be sure because I cannot see, or even move very well, is Richard Haswell, billionaire owner of one of the largest corporations in the country, perhaps the world. My Master.
Two weeks ago, I had had nothing. I was an almost penniless student doing dead-end work to make ends meet. Now, I have an amazing job, am receiving top class training so that I will one day be qualified and independent in my own right, am showered with beautiful clothes, wined and dined and taken to amazing places, and for all this, all I have to do is give my Master whatever he wants, whenever he wants it.
I think he is still clothed. I feel the smooth fabric of his tight cut black jeans rubbing against my open thighs, his erection pressed against my stomach.
His lips are suckling at my left nipple, tongue, manipulating and kneading it, sending electric currents of desire, shockingly, down through my stomach, hips and aching cunt.
He switches to the other nipple, and I feel him forcing my legs further apart with his knees, arranging me to his satisfaction. His hot breath on the sensitive skin of my breasts is making me flush and sweat, and I feeling his tongue trail along my cleavage, licking me dry. My breath is rapid and shallow, and as his tongue rides back to a nipple, he bites, not hard, but enough to startle me and I half gasp, half yelp at the almost-pain of his nip.
“No noise, Elizabeth.” he says. “This time, I want you silent.” Then he bites the other nipple, and I arch my back and shuddering, try, obediently, to be silent through my panting.
One hand slides across my breast, pinches a nipple, then tweaks and teases until I know that it is a solid, erect bud, crinkling rose against my celtic pale skin.
The other nipple gets the same treatment, and I writhe under him, my hips beginning to judder with the need to have him inside me. So far, he has touched only my breasts, belly and neck, not yet venturing near my streaming pussy and swollen clit.
“What do you want Elizabeth?” he asks in his deep, rich voice
What does he expect me to say? I want him to plant his mouth over my slit and suck me dry. I want him to fuck me until I can’t stand. But all I can do is moan incoherently.
Earlier that day, having been sent to his office with some documents for his attention, he wa
ves me to a seat. “Sit down Elizabeth. I just wanted a brief chat. Just bear with me. I won’t be a moment.”
Quickly he scans the documents then signs one, passing the file back to me. “Thanks. Give those back to Mack, and tell him I’d like to see the two-year forecasts as well.
I make a quick note of this. ‘Mack’, Micale Kane, manager Procurement Section, is, for the moment, my immediate supervisor, while I spend a couple of weeks in Procurement, as part of my familiarisation program with the company; learning what each department does, how it works, where it fits in the scheme of things.
I don’t care for the man. His smile always seems fake to me, and while he hasn’t tried to make a move on me, there is something about him that always makes me want to wash my hands after I’ve been talking to him.
Of course, I have said none of this to Richard Haswell. I am the ‘new kid on the block’ and even with our ‘Special Arrangement’ I am sure that it would not be well received if I started mouthing off about people who have been here years.
“So, how’s the training going?”
Pulling back my attention where it belongs, I reply “Great. It’s so interesting. Being able to link up what they teach us at college with how a company actually works in practice…”
“And the college? Your studies?”
“Oh that’s fine now. HR got me onto a day release program. Three days a week here and two in college. I can cover all the ground that way, get to grips with the things I need to learn both on paper and for real.”
He nods in satisfaction. “Good. And you are getting to grips with things? Where are you now for example? Procurement is it?”
I nod. Yes, I’m working my way through. I haven’t got my head my head around all of it yet, but I’ll get there.”
“Something’s giving you problems? What is it?”
I am reluctant to ask him a lot of questions. This is after all, Richard Haswell. Billionaire tycoons have better things to do than answer questions from half-cocked trainees.
“C’mon.” he says. “Out with it.” He glances at the clock. “I have fifteen minutes before my next meeting. Ask.”
“Err, well. I was learning my way around the procurement process and trying to tie up in my head where the paperwork fits in with the computer system….”
“And…?”
“Well I couldn’t figure it out. It was just so complicated with all the different projects you have going on, and in so many different places, so I decided just to pick one project, as a kind of worked example, and follow the paper trail.”
Nodding his head, “Good idea. So…?”
“Well I picked the Hanover Mall project you’ve got going on over the other side of the City. And I just couldn’t get it to work when I tried to fit the pieces together. I kept coming back in a loop and finding myself at the same place again. It was like the same things were being charged twice, or more than twice. I couldn’t get it at all.”
I shrug. “Obviously that can’t be it and I’m probably missing something really obvious….” My voice trails off. I feel nervous, making a fool of myself in front of this man who has given me the opportunity of a lifetime.
He nods thoughtfully, pursing his lips. “As you say, you are probably missing something. Print me off a copy of what you’ve got and bring it over tonight. I’ll take a look at it for you. Meanwhile…” he looks at me meaningfully, “speaking of tonight, seven pm?”
I cast my eyes down “Yes, Sir.”
He sucks in his cheeks, smiling. “Elizabeth. Don’t do that here. I can’t attend meetings with a raging hard-on.”
Lost for words, I bob a curtsey. “Yes, Mr Haswell.” And I go about my business.
_____________________
Later that evening, I am sure he does have a raging hard-on. While I can’t see it, I can feel it pressing against my thighs as he leans into me.
“What do you want Elizabeth? This won’t go any further until you ask me for it.”
I hear a buzz, then feel a sharp pain in one nipple, then the other, as he clamps vibes to my small, firm buttons.
This is too much and I struggle against the chains, trying to escape the electric arousal spiking through me. My pussy gushes and I moan, trying to thrash against/into the sensation.
“What do you want Elizabeth? Tell me. You have to tell me.”
“I want… I want…”
“Yes?”
“Oh God! I want you inside me. Please. I want you inside me.”
“That’s better. And then?”
I am half-crazy with lust. I can barely think straight. “I want you to fuck me. Please just fuck me.”
“That’s good Elizabeth. And how do you want to be fucked?”
I am not sure how to answer, and hesitate, my panting growing ragged.
“How do you want to be fucked Elizabeth? Tongue? Finger fuck? “Or do I get myself ball deep inside you and pin your pretty brains to your skull?”
The image this question conjures up is too much, and I moan again. It is about the only thing I can do, bound and blindfolded.
“Enough noise, Elizabeth. If you can’t ask nicely for what you want, I think I’ll shut you up.” And fingers prise my mouth open, forcing something inside and then tying around at the back of my head. A ball of some kind? It is soft and rubbery against my tongue but my mouth is held open against it. I am effectively gagged, and now my helpless moans are muffled.
“You look good like that Elizabeth, with your mouth held open. I might have to think about what else I might put in there….. But now, a little more stimulation I think.” he says.
After a moment, I feel a sharp pain in first one nipple and then the other. I try to yelp, but cannot. Then my already sensitive nipples start to vibrate, gently at first. I am just beginning to handle this exquisite sensation, when the vibe increases violently. I convulse, my hips bucking, my urgent cries blocked by my gag. I try to speak, but cannot.
“Too late now Elizabeth. You had your chance to speak.”
He lifts my left leg by the knee, passing something under it. A rope? A belt? A cuff? Blinded as I am, I cannot tell. Then he does the same with my right knee. Abruptly, I find both legs being spread, parted at the knees, lifting me from the hip and displaying my throbbing pussy. For a moment, my weight is suspended, quite painfully, as my knees are pulled back and towards my face, but then he pushes something under my hips, a pillow or cushion, supporting me and the pain subsides.
I lie, almost crucified on the bed, blindfolded, gagged, arms chained and, legs bent almost double back on themselves, pussy splayed.
“Not quite wide enough I think.” comes my Master’s voice. And the ropes pull my knees further apart.
He adjusts the cushion under my hips, forcing my back to arch, pushing my hips higher, my dripping pussy even more exposed.
“That’s better Elizabeth. Now I can see you properly.”
I am so ready for him. Frantic with arousal, crazy with lust, I just want him to plunge his cock inside me, and pound away at my core.
Instead, I feel the lightest of touches. Fingers part my pussy lips, stretching them wide. His face is so close to me. I feel his warm breath over my swollen and pulsating labia, then his tongue curls around them, over and around, continuing on to my pussy where he pushes in, licking me inside. The pressure of his face against me tells me he is licking as deep as he is able, probing with the tip, tasting my juices. His whole mouth fastens around me, and he starts chewing at me, tongue working me all the time, as I heave and struggle and squeal against my bonds, the gag, the exquisite pleasure-pain of it all. I try to scream against the ball-gag in my mouth, but it fights against me, and only muffled cries escape.
Then he withdraws, leaving me shaking and shuddering, hips jerking and bucking against my ties. My pussy is hot, drenched, engorged and I am desperate to have him inside me.
He removes the gag. “Anything to say Elizabeth?” he asks. “Any requests yet? You know you have to ask first.”
My mouth dry from the gag, jaws aching from being held open, I have trouble speaking. “Inside me. Please, Master, inside me.”
“That’s better, Elizabeth. You are learning nicely. I’ll take your training a little further after today.”
I barely have time to wonder what he means by this, when he does indeed slip something inside me. Sliding easily against my slick pussy lips, he inserts something which, for a moment, simply sits inside me. Then it also starts to vibrate to a pulsing rhythm. An egg?
I convulse again, but still am pinned. “Calm down Elizabeth. We’ve barely started.” He probes with a finger inside me, pushing the vibe in deeper, pressing it in as far as it will go. “Now Elizabeth. I want to hear you yelp for me.” And he turns the power up, and this time, the part moan-part howl that comes from me is loud and long. Mercilessly he wraps his mouth around my clit, sucking hard at my swollen bud. I struggle and wriggle, trying to escape the sensation over-load, but at the same time, glorying in it.
The combination of vibration on my nipples, pulsing from within, and his mouth clamped over me, tormenting-pleasuring me is irresistible.
From within, orgasm swells and rises, building to the peak and then in an uncontrollable surge takes me. My Master works my clit with his tongue, drinking me as I gush, one hand on my flat belly, massaging my inner muscles against the egg. I scream against the unbearable sweet-bitter-pleasure-pain that overwhelms me completely.
“Stop! Stop! Oh God please stop!”
Instantly, he takes his mouth away, inserts his hand and flicks the egg out of me, pulling the clamps off my nipples. The blindfold is ripped from my face, and in the shimmer of the candlelight. I see my Master, shirtless, and undoing his straining belt. Unbuttoning his jeans, his erection bulges from the fabric, standing upright as he releases it, rigid against him.
He climbs onto the bed, settling between my knees, the tip of his penis kissing my pussy lips, still twitching in the after-shock of orgasm. As he touches me, my inner muscles convulse again, at the thought of this thick shaft penetrating me.