The Billionaire's Lesson Page 2

  One post after another I read and my inner legs pressed tight together, churning in agonizing pleasure. There's a hole in my sex life. A hole that's been ignored far too long, I decided.

  I found a posting titled, “I need a dom...” and murmured, “You and me both,” as I clicked its link. Her words reflected my own thoughts. Her sexual frustration, her inability to share her needs with a partner, her lust for a man, very close to her, who refused her, saying she was too nice.

  The first reply was more of a rebuke, it read: I'm sick of reading about submissives whose fantasies are unfulfilled. What the hell is the deal? Make an ad, describe what you want and move along. Its pathetic to pine after men who clearly aren't that into you.

  I kind of felt stung at this random person's reply like he or she was writing it to me.

  On a whim, I hit the new post button in the personals and began to write one for myself. My title? Hot 4 Dom. I started the ad with, Dear Sir, feeling adventurous, I added, or Sirs. Recently I've become aware of a deep desire to be spanked and used as a man's toy. Being tied up sounds pretty fun too. I need someone who I trust. Someone willing to guide me and unleash my wild side, especially if that requires a tether. I –

  Suddenly, my office door was thrust open and in walked Bill. I gasped at his unexpected intrusion and frantically clicked “minimize” on my browser. The shot of adrenaline I received then sure went along way towards waking me.

  He looked groggy and out of sorts. His thick, dark brown hair flat on the side as if he'd slept with his head pressed to the desk. His disheveled clothes the same he'd worn the day before with his shirt unbuttoned about halfway down his tanned, muscular chest. His handsome face covered in the thin stubble of a days growth.

  Bill peered at me curiously through his azure blue eyes. His stare crystallized into amusement and those dimples of his deepened. “What're you doing?” He asked as he approached my desk.

  “Uh, nothing.” I grabbed my mouse and attempted to shut the window containing my little ad. Unfortunately, I missed clicking “close” and hit “maximize” instead. I flicked my wrist and reached the top bar, but it was too late. His hand clasped mine and for several seconds he read my words.

  Not even one minute passed, but it might as well have been an hour. Was I going to lose my job? How would he react to my waste of time and money?

  He cleared his throat. “You're doing it wrong. You won't be finding what you want that way. Trust me, I know.”

  I exhaled deeply. “I-I'm sorry?”

  He shook his finger at me accusingly. “You have any idea how hard it'd be for me to find a replacement for you if you got yourself killed?”

  “I – ”

  He let out an exasperated sigh, and said, “Whatever. Let's get some work done today, shall we? Print out the TPS reports and bring them to my office.” He stormed out, slamming my door shut on his exit.

  ***

  An hour later, I rapped on his door frame, bearing the thick sheaf of printouts against my side. My nerves raw, I comforted myself by biting my nails.

  “Come in,” he called

  I plunked the paperwork down in front of him. At the sight of a trail of flecks from my red nail polish, I swiped the papers clean, causing several to spill on the floor.

  “Damn it, Becca.”

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” I wore a tiny, little skirt, and as I stooped to collect the mess, instantly regretted my choice of attire. A draft of air hit my rear, covered then in only a pair of black thigh-high nylons. Shit. I'm not wearing any panties. Of all days to forget to do laundry. Maybe he isn't paying attention?

  No luck, though. My eyes met his as I stood and it was clear from his expression he'd seen all.

  My cheeks rushed with blood and I smiled feebly at him. In response, he shook his head, and asked, “Can you, at least, get them in order?”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry.”

  “Quit saying you're sorry. You're driving me nuts with how much you've used that word today.”

  “I'll do that. Sorry....”

  “Becca....” He warned.

  I covered my mouth to suppress a nervous giggle, and said, “Oops.”

  Several agitated clearings of breath came to me from his direction while I collated the papers. When all was in order, he received the reports, swiveling in irritated arcs on his executive chair.

  “Should I go?” I asked.

  “No, not yet.” He eyed me on and off while he browsed the data. Halfway through the stack, he rested his chin on his palm and gazed ominously at me. He crumpled one sheet after another into a ball and threw it away. Minutes later, he said. “My trash is full, Becca, take care of it please.”

  I wasn't sure if I heard him correctly, at first. Is he really telling me to dump his wastebasket? “Um, sorry, did – ”

  “There's that word again. Come on, take care of it.”

  I leaned down in front of him, taking care to grip my skirt to prevent it from riding high again. His eyes pored over the line of cleavage visible under my shirt. He pointed behind me. “Make sure and get it all. There's a bit that didn't make it in the can in back of you.”

  I turned and he pulled the hand that guarded my decency – what was left of it, anyways – away. “Crawl for it.”

  Wordlessly, I crouched low, letting the cloth slowly ride up to my waist. As I moved forward, I exaggerated each movement of my knees, each wiggle of my hips.

  He got up and stood over me. “An epilog to the story, I told you. Roberta ended up blackmailing my Dad. I know you're not her, but that had a strong effect on me too. Nearly as much as spanking her shaped me sexually. Can I trust you to not burn me?”

  I met his worried gaze, my heart fluttering with excitement, my pussy aching for him. “Tell you what. Show me what you think would freak me out, right here, right now. My body is yours to do anything you so desire with. If I don't like it or you don't, we go back to our lives as normal. You have my word.”

  He squatted down behind me and his finger traced the line of my nether lips. “Fair enough. I suggest we use the light system though: red meaning stop, yellow meaning slow and green meaning go.”

  He pulled a lacy length of cloth from his pocket, draped it over my eyes and cinched it tight around the back of my head. “Is this alright?” He whispered.

  “Yes.” I closed my eyelids to keep out the little I could see under my crude blindfold. He wanted me immersed in darkness for a reason.

  His hands poked and pushed my thin nylons into the secret nooks and crannies of my pussy and my asshole. He breathed in the scent of my juices and sighed with pleasure as though smelling a rose.

  He moved up to my breasts, opened my shirt and removed one after the other from my bra. In my darkness, my sense of touch became oversensitive. His fingers tweaked my nipples from base to tip. The nubs grew painfully tender from his repetitive milking motion.

  I gasped, attempted to remove his hands from my chest and he swung my offending arm around my back. “What do you say when it gets to be too much?”

  “Red light.” My eyelids spasm-ed and filled with damp tears. I was ashamed to say the phrase over something so trivial, but honestly I couldn't have handled a second more. My nips ached dully until washed of their pain by a wave of endorphins.

  He released my arm and the warmth of his body moved from mine. “I'm going to bind you now for your own good. You need to rely on the system as your safety net.”

  I bit my lip. I'd thought it'd be sexy to do that one day, but was I really ready for full on bondage? “I'm not sure....”

  “No risk, no reward. Holds true for both business and personal affairs. Try it first and if it's not for you red light it.”

  “Alright.” The cold steel of handcuffs enclosed gently around my wrists and sent a series of shivers down my spine. Now, I really have to rely on him listening to me or – My thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like scissors being snipped near my ear. Squirming in my restraints and terrified, I cried, �
��What are you planning on doing with those?”

  “You'll see, so to speak,” he said, his voice full of mirth.

  All of my hairs stood on end at once as if electrified and a little scream left my lips when I felt the sharp points of shears poke to the side of my pussy.

  “Don't worry. I'm not going to damage you, just your nylons.”

  A sickening sensation spread through my stomach and I worried he might cut into something more sensitive by accident. “No.”

  He leaned over me and whispered in my ear. “Yes.”

  The stretched out fabric from his earlier pokes was plucked from inside me. He cut a hole out by my pussy and another up by my asshole. Does he really expect to use that one? I mean I did tell him anything, but that's virgin territory. I swallowed back a lump lodged in my throat. I have to trust him, I don't really have a choice now.

  He got up again and fiddled around in his desk. My skin prickled with sensation. What comes next? A sharp slap on my rear followed from a riding crop? It left a bit of a sting, but the force behind the blow was gentle.

  “How's this?”

  “Mmm, green light.” My tension eased. He seemed genuinely interested in my enjoyment too.

  One lash after another, each strike claiming an untouched layer of flesh. My bottom probably glowed bright pink by the end.

  The tip of his crop poked at my pussy. “Should I start here?” He then drew a circle around my asshole. “Or here?”

  “Um, red – ”

  “Have you ever let someone inside your ass? Or put something in there?”

  “No. I....” How to answer him? The idea of something as large as a cock, roughly gouging into my tiny ring made me squeamish. However, I did sometimes enjoy exploring with the tip of a finger or a bullet vibe.

  “Let's try a little something.”

  Before I could protest, I felt a smooth cylindrical object covered in cold lube pushing into my tight little hole. I gasped at the feeling of it filling me and moaned in surprised pleasure as I adjusted to it. A ticklish twitch radiated through my hips and I writhed and wriggled at the sensation.

  His hands clasped my buttocks and he massaged them roughly. The still tender skin of my bottom sang with nerves and the plug in my asshole worked its way in deeper.

  Moan after moan left my lips. The delicious decadence of the pleasure mixed with pain.... The heightened sensitivity of being sightless.... It was all so good. A trickle of my juices slid down my inner thigh, so warm its trail seemed to sizzle over my skin.

  Why won't he put his dick inside me? Each minute that passed without his cock was driving me buggy. He wasn't just controlling me, he was controlling himself too.

  He grasped the handle of the plug in my ring and gyrated it gently. His fingers fell lower and one pressed into my pussy. My breaths grew short and I whimpered at his touch.

  “Is this all right?” He asked with a hint of concern.

  “Yes, uh, green light.”

  “More than?”

  “Mm-hmm.” Then there were two, then three, then four, then five? His fist pushed in slowly. Breathless rasps stopped me from stopping him and it felt excruciatingly wonderful. A thin layer of tissue, the only thing separating the plug in my ass from his hand sliding in my shallows.

  Tendrils tied in my chest like shoelaces from the tension. Fuller than a girl should be and loving it like a naughty slut. My jaw sagged open and my tongue licked air. Quivers shook through me. My body pulsed at the radiant splendor of an intense orgasm. The only thing that could have made it better? His warm cum flooding inside of me.

  “Are you going to fuck me now?”

  “Depends. Are you going to beg?”

  “Please....” I whined.

  “Please what? What is it you want? Tell me exactly.”

  “Please... fuck me with that big, thick cock of yours,” I cried.

  He unzipped and the metal of his belt clinked near my ear. Finally, I thought. He didn't proceed around to my back, instead the silky skin of his tip brushed over the peach fuzz of my cheek and down to my mouth.

  “Kiss it.”

  Between parted lips, I sucked soft and licked wet. The throb of his pulse shaking against my whirling tongue. I wished to run my palm over its length, to cup his balls. I went to reach and the cuffs on my wrists buried deep, reminding me of my restraints.

  He sighed and combed fingers through my hair at the sight of my strain. “We'll save that for another day.” A drop of pre-cum dripped from his tip into my mouth and I suckled it hungrily. A taste of things to come.

  His hand bound my hairs into a crude ponytail and he jerked my head back, away from him. The follicles stung sharp and tingled at their release.

  The next thing I knew, he was straddling me. His cock found my nether lips and plunged in slowly, deeply. He pulled back and pushed in quick, before I could adjust. I gaped breathlessly and smiled. Thank god.

  There was no gentleness in his thrusts. All rough, all jagged, all hard. Claps from the bang of his ballsack. Repetitive smacks from his open hand on my buttocks, and deep, animal moans from his mouth to the tune of my coos for “More.”

  He teased me with shallow, rapid drives. He tickled my clitoris with quick, round fingertip pirouettes. I summoned all the strength of my weak, aching walls to cave around his girth as his shaft drove to my depths again, continuing tighter and deeper inside me.

  He stopped in me, hilt deep and ground his teeth so tight I heard their squeak. A growl, a grunt and sweet release. His spurts sprayed in me and I felt the plug in my asshole tighten. Then two fingertips clutched at my clit and that old, unstoppable wave ripped through me. Buried nerves came alive and all those special spots sang.

  Oh my god, I thought, as I quivered from the aftershocks.

  He tore himself away from me and I heard him in his bathroom whistling a love song.

  His toilet flushed, and he called, “I'm glad I was wrong about you.”

  “Um, that's good.” I shifted on my knees. “Could you remove the handcuffs and the blindfold?”

  “Oops, oh yeah.”

  ***

  “So what does this make us?” I asked later, anxious of his answer.

  “I don't know. After I sent you home the other day, I went to meet with a friend of mine.... Not really a friend, I guess, more of what you'd describe as a fuckbuddy. I tried to drink the thought of you out of my mind at dinner and ended up coming back here instead of going home with her.... I think I could love you, hell, I might even be in love with you.”

  My head swam in circles and I felt more than a little shocked. He really did care about me. “I... I don't know what to say.”

  “So, I guess, we keep doing what we're doing now and figure out what we are together.”

  “Hey, you never did kiss me. You realize that?”

  He pulled me to his warm chest and found my lips with his, so suddenly he winded me. “Is that better?”

  Through pants for air, I replied, “Yes... yes... sir.”

  ***

  Also by Anya Adonis

  Bound to the Wolf (Gay Werewolf Erotica)(Part One)

  Bound to the Wolf (Gay Werewolf Erotica)(Part Two)

  Bound to the Wolf (Gay Werewolf Erotica)(Part Three)

  Bound to the Wolf (Gay Werewolf Erotica)(Part Four)

  Bound to the Wolf Complete (Gay Werewolf Erotica)(Parts 1-4)

  Rough Country (M/M)

  Runaway Hearts of the West (Western Erotic Romance, M/F)

  Kidnapped By Bandits (Western Erotic Romance, M/F/F)

  Cowpoked (Western Erotica, M/F)

  The Rough and Tumble West (3 Stories of Cowboys and Western Erotic Romance, M/F and M/F/F)

  Outlaw Planet (Gay Cowboy Space Sex)

  Werewolf Madness

  WolfPack

  ***

  License Notes

  This file is licensed for private individual entertainment only. The book contained herein constitutes a copyrighted work and may not be reproduced, st
ored in or introduced into an information retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means (electrical, mechanical, photographic, audio recording, or otherwise) for any reason (excepting the uses permitted to the licensee by copyright law under terms of fair use) without the specific written permission of the author.

  ***

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and locations are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons or events, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.