Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 23: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Twenty-Three

… My Master is not exactly smiling, but his teeth show a little, white against his tan as I see his breathing deepening. “I don’t think we need those, do we?” he says, and one-handed, he teases apart the side laces of the panties, discarding them.

“Unlace the top of your bodice. I want to see your breasts.”

Slowly, I pull the laces of the bodice open, allowing my heavy breasts to swing free from their confinement.

“Now, closer. Then start fucking yourself again.”

I stand close to him, as he leans farther back into the settee and says, “Closer. I want to see everything.”

I try to move closer, but cannot as my knees chafe against the couch.

“Closer,” he says. “Kneel up. Straddle me.”

Kneeling up, my legs parted astride my Master, he supports me with his hands on my hips, steadying me. “Now,” he commands. “Play with yourself. I want to see you dripping.”

This will not be difficult. The act of opening myself, so close to my Master’s face that I can feel the heat of his breath on my loins, is already arousing me and my pussy is moistly warm.

Slipping fingers between my legs, I start to play with my clit, pulling the hood back with one hand and rubbing it with the other. Working at my nub, it grows hard under my fingers. A couple of fingers in my pussy for a moment give me a little juice to lubricate myself, making my clit more slippery and easier to work.

“Put your hands on my shoulders. Support yourself,” my Master demands.

Taking one hand from my hips, he parts my lips, leaning in close to suckle at me. His tongue lapping at my bud is electric, and I moan, struggling to remain still in my awkward position balanced over him.

“I did not give you permission to move,” he says, withdrawing from me for a moment then returning to his work, nibbling at me, chewing lightly at my labia, and working my clit with his tongue.

My breath is shuddering now, and my balance is precarious.

“Take your hands from my shoulders. Support yourself against the back of the couch.”

My Master slides down now directly under me, my pussy open for his inspection. Looking up, he peruses my folds like a gourmet, tasting and licking, flicking at my clit with his tongue, working circles around it, and nibbling with his teeth.

I am very wet now, my breath ragged and broken. Pussy juices trickle and my Master licks them away. He tongues my entrance, probing, first lightly, and then more deeply. His face presses close to me, drinking my depths as I judder and squirm, fighting the impulse to buck my hips. With my face flushing, sweat trickles down between my breasts.

Through my growing euphoria, I hear something—a buzz. A vibe? Where did he get it from? His pocket? I have no time to wonder as, abruptly, my Master pins me by one thigh, arm wrapped tightly around my leg. In the same moment, he applies the vibe to my clit, sending waves of electric stimulation shooting through me. I squeal in shock, convulsing reflexively as he circles my clit with the vibe, first probing into the root, then skimming the tip, now sensitized and swollen. Juices gush from my throbbing cunt, and an unbearable tension builds in waves, as my Master works mercilessly at my tender button.

My orgasm rises quickly, engulfing me in spasm after spasm of pleasure. At some level I am aware that my Master is no longer working my clit, but has buried himself in my pussy, drinking from me as I cum, his mouth locked over me, his tongue penetrating, prolonging my climax as I shudder and scream.

Barely does my orgasm subside when he pushes me away and down onto the floor. Standing, he towers over me, stripping off his shirt and pants. As they drop in a heap beside me, he says, “On your hands and knees, Elizabeth. Ass up. I want to see you.”

Submissively, I obey, dropping down to rest on my elbows, my head well down so that my naked buttocks are presented for my Master.

“Good girl. Now stay there.” He strides to his briefcase and extracts a red and black leather paddle. I recognise it; I bought it for him as a birthday present.

He walks around me, stroking me with the paddle, skimming my hair with it, sliding it over my spine. Lightly, he taps a bare buttock with it and I quiver in anticipation.

“You like that, eh?” He taps the other buttock, harder this time, making me yelp. “Be quiet,” he commands. “Tonight, I think I’m going to test your limits a little. You remember your safe word?”

“Yes, Master. Redhead.”

“Good. Let’s see how far you want to ride …”

A tingle runs down my spine. I have barely come down from the waves of one orgasm, but already I feel my body’s response to my Master. Biting my lip, nonetheless, my pussy juices flow, trickling down my thighs.

“I can see that, Elizabeth. I know you’re enjoying this. Now … a question for you. I can either fuck you from behind or face-fuck you. Which is it to be?”

“I don’t mind, Master. You choose.”

With a thwack! that makes me gasp, the paddle slaps across my rear. “Wrong answer, Elizabeth. Now, do I shove my cock up your cunt or do I push it down your throat?”

My ass is smarting. “My mouth, Master. My mouth.”

Thwack! The paddle lands again, but this time harder and I yelp.

“Your mouth? What about your mouth?”

“Shove your cock in my mouth, Master. Face-fuck me.”

The paddle drops to the ground beside me, and this time instead, I feel my Master’s hand slap across my butt, hard this time, really hard. I yell in pain, but my Master is not fooled because my throbbing pussy gushes.

“I still think you’re enjoying this, Elizabeth.” His hand rams hard inside me, three fingers pumping in and out. “Ask nicely. If you want me to face-fuck you, ask nicely and tell me what you want me to do.”

“Please, Master. Let me suck you off. Let me make you cum.”

“And then?” Thwack! The hand slaps this time, not my buttocks, but my aching and streaming cunt. This time it really hurts, and I almost rise, jolted off my elbows by the pain. But as I start to rise, my Master grabs me by the hair, pinning my head low again. “Did I tell you to move?”

Gasping, I say, “No, Master.”

With his hand pressing my head to the carpet, my Master kneels between my splayed legs, forcing my knees a little farther apart with his and opening my pussy wider with his fingers. His erection presses against my smarting lips, then thrusts inwards.

I am slick and slippery. There is no resistance as he pumps into me, hard, meeting my inner walls. Although my elbows are still on the ground and my back arched to present my open pussy, he pulls my head back and up by my long red hair, making it difficult to breathe as I gasp and pant.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“Be quiet!” And still pumping me, he slaps my butt in time with his rhythm, first one side, then the other.

I am close to as much as I can stand. “Redhead!” I yell. “Redhead! Please, Master. No more.”

Instantly he withdraws from me and stands. “On your knees, Elizabeth.” And as I kneel up to him, he forces his finger between my lips. “Open!” he commands.

His cock is hugely erect and dripping with my juices as he presses into my mouth. As I wrap my lips and tongue around him, I know that it will not be long. Already I taste the honey salt of his pre-cum, and as I steady myself with one hand on his thigh, I feel the tension and the quiver of his build-up to climax.

I bind my lips tightly around my Master’s shaft, feeling the strain and the pulse of his pre-climax building at the base as I massage his balls with my free hand. Slipping my tongue around the head and into the sensitive slit, I gag as suddenly, he thrusts deep, pinning me by my hair as he shudders and groans into climax, spurting into me.

I cough and splutter as his cum fills my mouth, catching me at the back of my throat. Deep in orgasm though he is, my Master feels that I am choking and pulls free, shooting instead over my face and into my hair.

As his climax ebbs, I look up at my Master and see him with his eyes tightly shut, his face still locked in a grimace.

Relaxing, he opens his eyes, looking down at my cum-spattered face. “You’re beautiful, Elizabeth,” he says. Then wiping his cum from my face, he adds, “A little dishevelled, but beautiful.”

He offers me a hand, helping me stand. I stagger, my sore bottom making me a little stiff.

“Are you all right, Elizabeth?”

“Yes, Master, I’m fine, really.” In fact, I am better than fine. I feel wonderful.

I am not going to spoil the moment. I will tell my Master about Mack Kane tomorrow.