An Alpha Male, BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic Romance
Part Two of the
Bought by the Billionaire Series
Author: Simone Leigh
Copyright © 2016
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, digital, mechanical, electronic including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system without permission in writing from the author
The Master’s Contract
I stand in the corridor, speechless but gasping.
A complete stranger has brought me to the verge of the most explosive orgasm ever, and then stopped, shoving me out into this corridor to carry on cleaning hotel rooms. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
I stare at the closed door and want to shout the question at its blank surface, but if I were heard shouting in the hotel, I might lose my job. Suddenly I want to cry, at the sheer let-down of what has just happened.
Reaching into a pocket, I pull out a hair tie, pinning my long red locks, still damp from the shower, back onto my head. I start to step towards my trolley, full of clothes and brushes and furniture polish, but as I move, am brought to a sudden stop by the vibration of the egg, still whirring away inside me. I yelp, and then clap a hand over my mouth in case anyone hears me.
The door opens again. He stands there, wearing an arrogant smile. “Still here Elizabeth? I said to come back later. What time do you come off shift?”
“Er, seven pm.”
He nods. “Fine. I’ll see you at five past seven. Don’t be late. I’ll be waiting for you.” And he closes the door again. I can’t believe the gall of the man. Does he think I am going to coming running? Just because he asks, and appears to expect it?
Then I admit the truth to myself. Yes, of course I am going to come back. The man, whoever he is, is devastatingly handsome and has just played a game that brinked me on the edge of a crashing climax.
Correction: is still playing a game.
I check my watch. Five thirty. An hour and a half. Might as well get on with my work.
Walking awkwardly, because of the egg buzzing away inside me, I push the trolley along to the lift. There are no other rooms on this floor. The Penthouse Suite stands alone. I wonder who he is, to be able to afford to stay here.
For the next hour and a half I work in a bit of a dream. Fortunately I have no real problems with any of the work, because were I to have to, for example, bend over, the whole world would see that I’m wearing no panties. He has those, discarded by his shower. The egg works sporadically, sometimes lying still inside me and then suddenly bringing me upright with a gasp as it suddenly vibrates to life inside me. My pussy juices are running, working their way down my thighs.
Seven o’clock comes and I put my trolley back in the utility cupboard. I am wondering what excuse I can use for going back up to the Penthouse, but as I pass reception, Ricardo calls me from the desk. “Hey Beth. Penthouse wants a bottle of champagne. Can you take it up to him please.”
Ricardo shouldn’t have asked me to do it. There are other staff for room service, but I am not about to complain. The timing is perfect. I collect the champagne on ice, trying not to bend over as I push the bar cart along, and take the lift back to the top floor.
Suddenly nervous, I hesitate before tapping on the door, but almost before my knuckles touch the wood, the door opens and he is there again. I glance up. Of course. There is a camera by the lift. He knows exactly who is outside his door.
He smiles a welcome. “Ah Elizabeth. Lovely to see you again. Do come in.” He takes the champagne cart from me and I follow him inside. “I hope you don’t mind, or think me forward.” he says, “But I’ve made a few preparations for you.”
Preparations?!? I halt, then jerk as the egg buzzes me again. An hour and a half of it working inside me has left me almost limp with desire and desperate for a real fuck.
He looks pleased at my reaction. “Ah, you do still have it inside you. Nice to know that you can follows instructions.” He holds up a small box and jabs a button on it as I watch. The egg inside me jolts to life again, sending electric arousal up my spine. I yelp. “Good girl.” he said. “That’s what I like to see. Obedience.”
Suddenly he steps up close, circles an arm around my waist and brings his mouth to my ear. “Don’t need the help now though do we. I just wanted to keep you on the simmer until you came back.”
His free hand strokes my cheek, slides down over a breast, cupping and squeezing briefly, continues its way down to the hem of my too-short skirt and under. I am unbelievably aroused. Beginning to pant again, I can only ask myself how a complete stranger can be doing this to me as his fingers journey up and in, stroke past my clit and up into my swollen pussy. He flicks out the egg and tosses it onto a side table.
“Go have a shower again Elizabeth.” he says. “You’re hot and uncomfortable from working. I want you relaxed.”
Even in my inflamed condition, I have to admit that this iss a good idea. I nod and walk to the shower-room.
Stepping into the room, still steamy from my earlier visit, I start to unbutton my blouse, then can’t be bothered and simply lift it up over my head. For a moment, my vision is blocked as the blouse goes over my face, then as I can see again, I realise that he is in the room with me. I startle and he grins. “Don’t mind if I watch do you?”
I shake my head dumbly.
He nods in satisfaction. “I might decide to help. But let’s see how it goes.” His grin drops to a half smile and he tilts his head in that expression of his that I am coming to recognise. “Take your bra off Elizabeth. Slowly. And turn to face me. I want to see you properly.”
Turning to face him fully, I unclip my bra, black and lacy, then slide it slowly down my stomach before letting it drop to the floor. Then I start to unzip my skirt.
“No.” he says. “Not yet. Fondle your breasts Elizabeth. Caress them. Play with your nipples.”
He wants me to perform for him? I hesitate.
I cup my own breasts, then stroking and squeezing them, watch his gaze drop to watch. Suddenly I realise that I very much want to give him a show. I start tweaking and pinching at my nipples, making them crinkle and harden. I feel myself warming from within and flushing. He smiles again, knowing exactly what is happening. He really does have the most beautiful smile, starting at his lips and curving up through his deep blue eyes.
He speaks. “Don’t move. Stay right there.” and he walks out, returning only a moment later with the champagne bottle. “We’ll drink this in a while, but I have better uses for it right now.”
The bottle is chilled from the ice, running with condensation. He holds the cold glass up to my nipples, flicking over their already crinkled skin with the icy surface. I gasp at the sheer pleasure/pain of the sensation, not cold, just stimulating. “I’m going to enjoy training you Elizabeth.” he says.
“Sorry? Training me?”
“You’ll see.” he says. “I’m going to fuck you raw in a while. But first you have to please me. You have to be a Good Girl.”
I groan. Desperate to fuck, I want nothing more than to feel him inside me. “Oh God…”
“Yes, Elizabeth? What is it?”
“Please. I ….. I need to cum.”
“So what would you like me to do?”
“I told you before. You have to ask. You won’t get it without asking.”
I am almost incoherent with lust. “Oh God. Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
“Good Girl. That’s better.”
Abruptly he pulls me close, kisses me hard on the mouth, lingering as he runs fingers through my hair, then twists me around, bending me face down over the hand basin. From somewhere he produces a silk cord, obviously having it already prepared. He loops it over my left wrist, around a tap then around my right wrist and the other tap, I am tied down, my back arched and my butt presented to him.
Face down, I feel him come close behind me and pull me by my waist backwards until my arms are outstretched and my hips pulled upright. His pelvis is pressed against me and I can feel his erection. Pushing my skirt up around my waist so that my naked derriere is exposed, with one foot, he spreads my legs, stretching my aching pussy open.
He lays himself over me. I did realise before how tall he is. I am not short, about five foot nine, but to bend over me like that, he must be well over six foot. I hear his voice, murmuring, close to my ear. “Now then Elizabeth. You’ve been good and asked nicely, so you deserve something. Which do you want? My cock inside you or do I tongue fuck you?
Shaking and trembling, I can barely speak, gasping out “Don’t care. Just let me cum.”
“As my Lady wishes.” He backs away from me and the next thing I feel is his tongue, not gentle this time but licking hard and slow from front, over my clit and beyond before making circles inside and around my pussy. I cannot help myself and I come within seconds, breaking into helpless screams as pulses of pleasure pump through me. I try to buck but he grips me firmly around the pelvis and continues his merciless probing.
When I can bear no more, when I think I am going to explode, I shriek “Enough. Enough!” He stops instantly and as I hang slack and limp over the basin, panting, he strokes one hip, and I feel him kiss my bud.
He stands up, untying me. For a moment I don’t move; I don’t feel capable of moving, thinking my knees will buckle if I try. As my breathing subsides, he lifts me upright, taking my weight for a moment, holding me to his chest. “Are you alright Elizabeth?”
Speechlessly I nod, then, as I become able to support myself, he says. “Have your shower. I’ll see you in the lounge. Don’t bother with the skirt.”
The shower is blissful and I alternate with hot and cold jets, playing the water over my breasts and stomach, as my pulse slows and my breathing becomes more normal. The shampoo and the soap are wonderful, expensively perfumed and I inhale deeply through the steam.
Stepping out, the towels are huge and fluffy. Only the best in this suite.
Although I have been told to leave my skirt, I do not quite like to step naked into the room. I shake my head. Shy? I have just allowed a man I only met for the first time two hours ago, to tongue-fuck me to orgasm, and now I’m bashful about it?
I dry my hair so that it falls long and loose around my tiny waist, then step into the lounge wearing a white bathrobe.
He looks up from where he is pouring champagne into two glasses.
“Ah. There you are. I thought I might have to come looking for you again.”
I suddenly feel awkward again. “My hair takes a long time to dry.”
Now he looks admiring, and he comes up close, lifting my long tresses, holding them to his face and breathing deeply. “Yes, and beautiful hair it is Elizabeth. By the way, time for a formal introduction. I’m Richard.”
He holds out his hand and, a little confused, I take it. “Nice to meet you Richard.”
“Sit down Elizabeth.” He gestures to one of the expansive settees positioned to take in the spectacular view over the city. He passes me a glass. “Sit down.” he repeats. “Let’s talk a little, before we move on to other things.”
It is good to know that talking is an option, but…. “Other things?” I ask uncertainly.
He smiles that tilt-headed smile of his again. “You didn’t imagine we’d finished did you? No, not by a long way. The evening is young.”
I hide my confusion in the glass, sipping at the drink.
Richard refills it and sits beside me. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to get you drunk. We’ve already established that I don’t need to haven’t we.” He looks me full in the eye and then continues. “Tell me Elizabeth. Why are you cleaning hotel rooms?”
Why was he asking me? I shrug. “I need the money. I’ve got to get through college and my parents can’t help much.”
He nods. “I thought it might be something like that. Do you enjoy the work?”
I think it is a silly question. “No, of course not. It’s lousy work, but it’s work.”
“What are you studying at college?”
“Not just a pretty face then, or a beautiful body.” He nods, raising his eyebrows, seeming to be thinking about something.
Then he stands, holding out a hand to me. “Come along Elizabeth. Time to move on.” When I hesitate, he wriggled his fingers at me and eye points at a door. The bedroom?
I take his hand and he raises me from my seat. He is amazingly sexy. His smooth tanned skin highlighting his dark but slightly greying hair and deep, deep blue eyes. As I rise, he fixes me with those eyes. I could lose myself in those eyes.
He takes my other hand also and facing me, leans forward, kissing me on the mouth, soft and full. I lean into the kiss, hungry for more, hungry for whatever he is offering.
He leads me to the door and opening it, stands to one side, letting me in first.
It is a bedroom, but I wonder how much sleep it sees. A huge room with an entire wall of glass, it overlooks the city far below. A large bed, made up with white silk sheets and pillows, scattered with rose petals. For a moment I think the petals are also silk, but then a heady perfume tells me they are real. The corners of the bed are posted in black wrought iron and from each post dangles a chain ending in a cuff.
The lighting is low, flickering in the glow of candles and with a real fire in a hearth. My eyes slide past wardrobes and drawers, a thick fur rug lying before the fire. I can only look at that bed. This is a room of fantasy, of dreams.
“Do you trust me Elizabeth?”
Do I trust him? I have only just met him. But then, I have already allowed him tie me up twice. He could have done anything to me, helpless as I was. “Yes, I trust you.”
I hear the smile in his reply. “Good. Because I want to be your Master, and for that, you must trust me.”
As I try to digest what this means, he pushes me forward to the bed. I think he wants me to get onto the bed but he stops me, and turning to me to face him, starts to untie the belt of the robe I am wearing.
“I’m not……” He stops me speaking, putting a finger to my lips.
“Shhh...” he says, very quietly, looking me in the eye. “I am your Master now, and I have not given you permission to speak. Do you understand?”
I nod my head.
“Good. For now, the only things you may say are either to ask for more, or to ask me to stop. But if you do ask me to stop, everything stops and you will be going home. I will tell you what to do and you will obey or you will go home. Do you understand?”
I nod again and he smiles in satisfaction. “Good. Now, take off the robe Elizabeth. I want to look at you.”
I shrug the robe from my shoulders and stand naked in front of him. He looks very carefully over me and I see his gaze examining me, my beasts, my waist, my sex. He starts to circle me and involuntarily, I try to turn to follow him.
“Did I tell you to move?”
I shake my head and stand still again. Now I feel his hands on my shoulders. From behind, his fingers slide over my arms, my stomach, my buttocks and thighs. Despite my amazing orgasm only a little while ago, I begin to feel warm inside again.
“Get on the bed Elizabeth. Lie on your back.”
Obediently, I climb onto the silken sheets, rose petals scattering under me. “You’re so beautiful Elizabeth. I love beautiful things. Do you like the bed? Is it not beautiful too?”
I nodded silently.
“Open your legs Elizabeth. And raise your knees. Show me yourself.”
“Do you want to go home?”
I shake my head.
“Then do as you are told. I want to see all of you. Show me your pussy.”
A stab of desire runs through me and as I open my pink folds to him, I feel myself growing wet again. He sits on the edge of the bed, examining me, one finger running over my stomach as he looks. “Touch yourself Charlotte. You’re not wet enough yet. I want to see that you are ready for me.”
I slide my hands down to my clit, rubbing and tweaking, lust rising in me rapidly. He watches for a minute or two, then rises and goes to a cupboard, his eyes never leaving where I am playing with my sex. Pulling something from the cupboard, he tosses it to me, then pulls a pillow from the bed and, with little effort, lifts my hips from the bed, slipping the pillow under me.
“Now use that.” he commands. The gentleness is leaving his voice now, but I am becoming too excited to care. Taking the vibe he has given me, I start working myself with it. Distracted for a moment, by the sensations running through me, I close my eyes, my pussy getting hotter and wetter, my pussy juice running down my thighs onto the beautiful sheets. The feeling of giving my all to this beautiful stranger is riding me ever higher. Opening my eyes again, Richard is taking off his shirt, watching me all the time. As he starts undoing his belt, he says “Not just your clit. Inside you. I want to see you fuck yourself.”
The vibe glides into me easily, my slit slippery and hot, the little attached finger vibe working my clit too. I can feel orgasm start to rise again. Richard sees it too and snatches the vibe away from me.
“Enough.” he says. “No-one gave you permission to cum.”
I lay, dumbly looking at him, wondering what is coming next. His jeans are bulging and as he removes them, I see his massive erection, firm and stiff against his navel. Can I take that much?
He sees where I am looking and guesses my thoughts. “Yes, you’re getting it. All of it, if you are good and do as you are told.”
“Off the bed Elizabeth. Stand in front of me.’
Compliantly, I obey, and not sure where to look, cast my eyes down. He leans to one side and, opening a drawer, takes out a single red silk scarf, then others. Using one of them, he blindfolds me, binding it tight around my eyes, then leads me a few steps by the hand. “Bend forward.” Again, I obey and feel first my left wrist, and then my right, being bound to something. The bedposts?
As earlier, he lifts me from the waist, positioning me with hips up and pussy exposed. My legs are spread and my ankles bound also. I am utterly helpless and completely exposed, at the mercy of this man. My pussy lips are swollen and aching and juices are running down my thighs. I have never felt so utterly aroused, so utterly ready for whatever would happen next.
Quivering and trembling I hear him speak again. “Just to remind you Elizabeth, you can tell me to stop at any time, but if you do, everything stops and you go home. Say ‘Yes’ if you understand.”
I am almost palpitating now to have my Master inside me. His penis pushes against my pussy lips and I move my hips to accommodate the huge erection, tilting myself for easy access. The vibe was a poor substitute for what I really want. I pulse with arousal, frantic now to have that cock, to swallow it within, to take it as far as it will go, ball deep into me. Once, twice, it pushes against me, easing me open, slippery and wet. My pussy muscles jump in reflex, tightening around my Master, as he hesitates on the brink, not yet penetrating, not yet filling me as I want.
“What do you want Elizabeth? You may speak.”
I don’t hesitate. “Fuck me. Please fuck me.”
The penis eases against my pussy and my muscles twitch. I lean back as far as I can, to take it, but again, he pulls away.
“That’s not good enough Elizabeth.”
“Oh God, please fuck me.”
“Not good enough Elizabeth. I have to really know what you want. You won’t get it if you don’t tell me.”
I scream. “Please. Please fuck me with your cock! Bury yourself in me. I want to be fucked.”
“That’s better.” And suddenly, he thrusts hard inside me. My pussy walls take him easily, so wet and swollen are they, but he is huge and I feel him bang against my inner wall, then again harder. It hurts, but I am beyond pain or pleasure and know only that I want more of this. I feel my Master grasping my buttocks, holding me still as he fucks me. Over and over again his shaft spears me. I cry out in rhythm with his thrusting, again and again as he plunges deep inside me. I cannot move. I cannot see. Blind and spreadeagled, all I can do is scream in response to the pain/pleasure of my Master fucking me.
Climax wells up from within, mounting and building, threatening to take me completely. Then in a shattering crescendo, my heart pounding and pulse racing, orgasm overwhelms me and my cries turn to screams at my body’s release. Still he pounds inside me, plunging and thrusting, but I feel him now, leaning over me, arms wrapped around me, kneading my breasts, his breath ragged next to my face. He spasms as he bucks and presses into me, pumping his load. His hips jerk convulsively once or twice more and then he relaxes and sighs.
“Good girl Elizabeth.” he says quietly. “Yes, that was good.”
Withdrawing, he unties me, steadying me as I stand a little uncertainly, then removes the blindfold. My breathing is still quick, and he is flushed and panting, hair sweaty and disordered. He smiles as he catches my eye, tossing me the bathrobe. “Shall we finish that champagne now.” he suggests. I nod, uncertain as to whether I am permitted to speak, and he takes me by the hand, leading me back into the lounge.
On the fur rug we sit in front of the fire, me cross-legged in the bathrobe, he naked in the firelight, his deep blue eyes lambent in the flames.
“I want you to come here again tomorrow Elizabeth.”
Again? I am not sure I can cope with another night like this so soon. But my body betrays me. At the suggestion that I could have such magnificent, stupendous sex again, that my Master might again take me to the brink and beyond, my heat starts to rise again inside. Bewildered by the scale of my own lust, I gulp at the champagne. Bubbles shoot up my nose, making me sneeze.
He laughs. “Is that a yes?”
I waver. “I’d like to, but if the manager knows that I’ve, well, you know, with one of the guests, I don’t know what he’d do.”
He stays silent, pursing his lips slightly.
I continue. “I’m sorry, but I really need this job. And, no offence, you’re great, but, you’re a guest. You’ll be moving on in a few days and I’d be left high and dry.”
He steeples his fingers, holding them up to his lips. “Elizabeth. I understand you, but you don’t understand me. I will not be moving on. I live here. And you will not lose your job because I will make sure you don’t.”
I am confused. He lives here?
“Elizabeth. I live here in this apartment. I own it. I own the hotel in fact, along with quite a lot else. I have other houses, out in the country, but I live here most of the time, because my business is here, over there in fact, in that office building there.” He points out of the window across the city to the Towerpoint offices. “And for the avoidance of doubt, I own those too.”
I goggled. I’ve just been shagging with Richard Haswell. “Oh!” I say.
He laughs. “That impressive eh? Listen Elizabeth. Here’s the deal, if you want it. You don’t have to take it. If you say no, then I’ll say nothing to anyone and you can go back to cleaning rooms for a living.”
Running fingers through his hair, he is clearly choosing his words carefully. “You come here, whenever I ask you. I will wine you, dine you and buy you beautiful things. You will want for nothing, but you will do my bidding. I am your Master and you will do anything I ask of you.” He pauses. “I don’t think you will find it unpleasant. I think you enjoyed yourself as much as I did this evening.”
I gulp as conflicting thoughts raced around my head. “Um, yes, thanks. It’s a great offer. But why me? You must have a hundred women chasing you. What about my college? I wasn’t looking for a life as a kept woman. What happens when you get bored with me? And I’ve thrown my college education away?”
“Fair point and fair questions.” he says, sitting again, close, and looking into my face. Yes, you’re right. I can take my pick, but there are always strings. I have a casual date with some money-seeking huntress and suddenly find that I’m supposed to have offered marriage, a house and fifty thousand a month housekeeping. Somehow, I’ve taken advantage of her and ruined her reputation. Next thing I know, I’m up to my ears in lawsuits. This is a ‘no-strings’ offer Elizabeth. If you accept it, we have a Contract. I am your Master, and in return, you will have everything you want. Your college? You don’t have to give it up. Quite the opposite, you should pursue it.”
He bites his lip, thinking. “How’s this then? I will pay your way through college; fees, living expenses, the lot and you’ll have a credit card to get anything else you need. You’re doing business studies you said?”
“I assume they like you to get some practical experience with Big Corp’, as well as the academic material?”
I nod again.
“Right, then, you get that experience here in my company, in that office over there.” He points again at the office block. “You serve as an intern there and get your business experience that way.” He holds out his hands to me as I listen, dumbstruck. “Actually it’s perfect. You can take your pay through the internship. That covers you against any……embarrassment….as to where your funds are coming from.”
He looks me in the eye. “What do you think?”
Those blue, blue eyes stare into mine. At some level I feel that I should be outraged. This man, who I only met earlier today, is offering me a position as his personal what? Concubine? Mistress? Whore? Call girl? But it doesn’t feel like that. I like him. And he seems to like me. And if I could concentrate on my studies instead of cleaning up rooms after some jerk has had too much booze and thrown up in there…..
He is still silent, gazing steadily into my face.
I make up my mind. “When do I start?”
He nods and smiles, then looks at me and says “When do I start, Master?”
Yes of course. I cast my eyes down. “When do I start Master?”
“Right now.” he says cheerfully, then pauses. “Outside this apartment, a simple ‘Sir’ will be sufficient I think.”
“Yes Master. And what would you like me to do Master? Right now?”
“I assume you can type? Yes? There’s a computer and printer in the office through there.” He points at another door. “You can start by writing a letter of resignation. After that, you can join me in the bedroom.”
The Story Continues in “The Master’s Courtesan”
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