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A BDSM, Billionaire, Erotic Romance
Part Five of the
‘Bought by the Billionaire’ Series
Author: Simone Leigh
Part Five
The Master’s Fantasies
I do not see my Master for some days while he is out of town. When he does reappear at the office, on the occasions that I see him, he seems distracted and says little to me. I wonder if I have done something wrong, or worse, if he is growing tired of me.
Then, Francis, his personal assistant, buzzes me. “Beth, can you come up, please? He wants to see you.”
“I’m on my way.”
As I step out of the lift, Francis is sitting behind her desk outside the office, a thoughtful expression on her face. There are angry voices coming from behind the door to Richard’s office.
Francis meets my eyes with raised eyebrows. “Hi, Beth. I’d take a seat if I were you. I don’t know how long this is going to be.”
The shouting continues. After a few more minutes, and with one voice becoming ever louder and angrier, Francis picks up the phone. “Frank? Yes? Can you send security up to the tenth floor, please? Yes, that’s right. Now.”
As she puts the phone down, the office door bangs open, and Mack Kane storms out, red-faced and furious. Slamming the door closed, he sees me and takes a step towards me, murder in his eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know it was you, you little bitch ...”
I have no idea what he is talking about, and involuntarily I sit back in my chair as Mack steps closer to me, one hand raised.
Thankfully, the lift doors swish open and out step two blue-uniformed security guards. Mack sees them and backs off. At the same moment, Richard comes out of his office, looking stern but calm. “Francis, can you call Security, please ... Ah, already here, I see. Thank you, Francis. Ben, Alan, can you please accompany Mr Kane to the exit. He will not be needing his security badge any longer. And he is not to be readmitted without my express permission.”
He turns back to Francis. “Francis, please clear Mr Kane’s desk and forward any personal effects to his home address.”
Mack is almost purple with fury and turns to me, jabbing a finger in my direction with a clear threat in his eyes. “You bitch. You haven’t heard the last of this ...”
I am completely baffled. “I’m sorry, but I don’t underst..”
Richard interrupts. “Are you threatening a member of my staff, Mr Kane? Should we call the police?”
Mack falls silent, but his face is still mottled red with fury. Stiffly, he turns and heads for the lift, accompanied by the security guards. As the doors swish closed behind them, Richard turns to Francis. “Make sure he’s out of the building and that all the reception staff have clear instructions that he’s not to be permitted back in. Then, get onto IT, and have his security codes and passwords changed immediately.”
Francis nods. “Yes, Mr Haswell.”
He takes a deep breath and stares up at the ceiling for a moment. Exhaling, he says, “Francis, a pot of coffee, please, as soon as you get the chance. Elizabeth, in here if you would. You deserve an explanation.”
I follow him into the office, and he waves me to the settee.
“Elizabeth, I’m sorry. This wasn’t your fault. When you brought me that file of inconsistencies that you said you didn’t understand, you were quite correct. Those inconsistencies were not your misunderstanding of the procurement system. As I read through, and then when I investigated more deeply, it was quickly clear that what appeared to you to be the case, in fact, was the case. Someone was, in effect, having the same goods and services charged for twice, and sometimes more than twice. It would have been discovered at some point with a physical inventory count, but that could have been months away, and in the meantime, you have saved the company a great deal of money.”
Francis comes in with the coffee, deposits the tray, and leaves again. Richard pours two coffees, and I sip at mine, a bit lost for words.
He leans forward and takes my hand. “Elizabeth, I can’t tell you how grateful I am for your quick wits and your eye for detail. A lot of people would have, if they had spotted the problem at all, passed over the mystery and moved on. You struggled with it and came to me with your dilemma.” He laughs. “It goes without saying that if you encounter any more such inconsistencies, I want you to come straight to me with them again.”
I ponder the implications. “What will happen to him? Will you call the police?”
Richard shrugs. “I don’t think so. It would be hard to prove that it was Mack. When I confronted him, he didn’t deny it. However, I caught him out, unexpectedly, today. No doubt if the police came in, he would have his answers ready, and in the meantime, the company’s shares would be falling. No, he’s out, and he won’t be coming back. And he’ll not find it easy to get another job. You on the other hand ...”
“What made him think it was me?”
“I didn’t tell him that it was you, Elizabeth, but he knew which files you’d been looking at, and which projects you’d focused on. It didn’t take him long to work it out when I started asking him specific questions.”
I am really worried now. “He looked really mad. I thought he was going to hit me, but then the security guards arrived.”
Richard pauses. “Is that right? Just like him to blame someone else for his situation.” He rubs his chin. “Hmm ... just in case, I think we’ll get you out of that old apartment of yours, now. Get you to a new address. Would you mind that?”
“Well, no, but I was going to move at the end of the month when I could make the deposit for the rent.”
“I want you out of there before then. Where is the new apartment you have in mind?”
“It’s in the Crown Towers development, you know, one of those new ones they’ve just built.”
He smiles. “Yes, I know them. C’mon, let’s go see.” He buzzes the intercom. “Francis, can you call a car, please? We’re going to be out for a couple of hours.”
*****
In the privacy of the back of the car, I finally say, “I thought I had done something to upset you.”
My Master looks startled. “Why would you think that?”
“Well, you dropped me off at my old flat last week and then I didn’t see you again, or barely. And when I did see you, you didn’t speak. I ...” I falter. Am I safe to say this? “I ...I missed you.”
“I’m sorry about that, Elizabeth. I have to say that I also missed our, er ... adventures together.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Don’t worry, I won’t neglect you. I don’t want you wandering off, looking for pastures anew.”
“Oh, I won’t do that. We have a deal, don’t we? Anyway, I um ... I sorted myself out,” I confess, blushing crimson upon realising what I have just blurted out.
A rainbow of expressions crosses my Master’s face—surprise, shock, and then, a sunrise of sensual pleasure. He tilts his head, and then taking my hand, he presses it against his groin, moving my hand in his, over him, showing me what is required of me. Through the fabric of his trousers, I can feel his cock stirring to life.
He leans closer to me, his voice low and breathy by my ear. “So, you missed me, and you fucked yourself instead?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Yes, what?” He presses my hand against his growing erection.
“Yes, Master. I fucked myself thinking about you.”
“And?”
“I wanted you there, inside me. But you weren’t there, so instead, I lay naked on my bed and got myself off.”
“How? What did you do, Elizabeth? Tell me, in detail. I want to know.”
I am unused to this and am not quite sure what to say, so I hesitate.
“Elizabeth, I have given you an instruction. I want you to tell me, detail by detail, how you fucked yourself.”
“I spread my legs and I played with my clit.” As I say this, my Master’s cock jumps under my hand. I feel it straining for escape. As well as I can through his clothes, I work him with my fingers.
Ross’s voice comes over the car intercom, “Sorry, Mr Haswell, we’re stuck in a traffic jam. Might take a bit longer to get there.”
I see my Master take a breath for voice control. He succeeds, and sounding very casual, replies, “That’s fine, Ross. There’s no hurry.” Then he presses my hand down hard again.
Seeking permission in his eyes, I unzip and release my Master’s now throbbing erection. “I’d have you down hard on that, sucking me off,” he says. “But I want to hear what you have to say.”
“I played with my clit,” I repeat. “I rubbed myself and tweaked and flicked. And all the time, I was thinking of you, with your mouth around me, lapping at me and making me wet.” With the tips of my fingers, I work the head of his penis, licking my fingers to make it as good as I can for him.
“I made myself really wet. I was ready for you, and I wanted you. I wanted you to lick me out, and then fuck me brainless.” I feel that my fingers are not slippery enough. My Master’s cock deserves better than this, so for a moment, I bend over, taking him in my mouth, licking and moistening the tender skin, but at the same time, I continue to slide my fingers up and down his length. My own panties are moistening.
“I used my hand and finger fucked myself,” I continue. “But you weren’t there. I was ready to be fucked properly. I wanted to feel you all the way inside me, balls-deep, but you weren’t there. I would have used a vibe, but I didn’t have one, so I had to find something else instead.”
My Master is now leaking down my hand. As I hand fuck him, it is slippery and delicious, and I am becoming uncomfortable in my now soaking panties.
“What did you use? What did you bring yourself off with?”
“I found a bottle. It wasn’t right, but it was good enough. I slid it inside me, and then I fucked my cunt, hard. I wanted you to fuck me, but instead, I used a bottle to fuck myself ...”
Ross’s voice comes over the intercom again. “We’re clear, Mr Haswell. We’ll be there in a couple of minutes.”
Richard’s eyes roll skyward. “Fuck!” he mutters.
I lean over him and lick him clean and dry, enjoying the taste of him and letting him see me lick my own lips clean. With a little difficulty, I tuck him away, and he pulls his jacket closed to cover his still, overly-obvious bulge.
*****
As we enter the lobby of the apartment block, the concierge does not at first even look up. “Yes?” he says. “What is it?” He is eating a sandwich, and casually brushes egg crumbs from his face onto his shirt.
I start to speak. “Hello. My name is Elizabeth Kimberley—”
Richard interrupts. “Is this how a member of my staff meets and greets members of the public?”
The concierge looks up sharply at him and then blenches. “Oh! Mr Haswell.” He stands up hastily, struggling slightly to push his chair back as he does so. Then he plasters on an obsequious smile. “Sorry, Mr Haswell. I didn’t know we were expecting you.”
Richard leans forward over the desk, eyeballing the man. “You shouldn’t need to be expecting the boss to show up to show common courtesy to a visitor to the building. That is your job. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get me the keys for 47A.”
“Yes, sir.” The concierge disappears into a back room for a moment, then reappears, jingling keys. “Here you are, sir.”
“Thank you,” Richard says. “And get a clean shirt on if you expect to be still working here next week.”
We take the lift to the fourth floor. “I didn’t know you owned this building too,” I say.
He smiles and shrugs. “Handy, isn’t it? And no one will disturb us.” His smile turns to a wicked grin.
On the fourth floor, he unlocks the door and gestures me inside. As soon as the door is closed behind us, my Master grabs me by the arm and pushes me back against a wall. “Now, madam, you were explaining to me how you handle yourself alone.” One hand grabs me by the wrists, gathering them and raising my arms above my head, pinning me to the wall. The other hand heads south, and not too gently, pulls up the edge of my skirt, questing up my thighs, past my panties, to between my legs. There is nothing restrained about his actions. My Master is ready now. His finger reaches in and up, straight inside me. I hear his grunt of satisfaction to find me already dripping for him.
With his face close to mine, he says, “Now, if you please, continue with your tale.”
“I screwed myself with a bottle ... hard.”
His fingers plunge into me and I yelp. “Like this?”
“Yes Oh God, yes.”
He stabs into me again, spreading his fingers as he goes, thumb outside, pressed on my clit, and I start to whimper in arousal. “You like that?”
I am breathless and gasping. “Yes ... yes.” His thumb is rubbing my clit and I need to cum.
“You want more?”
“Yes. Please, yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, Master, please fuck me. Please let me cum.”
He leans even closer, whispering into my ear. “I’ll forgive you this time because you didn’t know. But in the future, you are only allowed to fuck yourself if you have asked my permission first. And afterwards, I expect a report, in detail, of what you did to yourself, for what is supposed to be a substitute for my fucking you properly. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes, Master, I think so.” His fingers freeze. I am on the edge of an orgasm, brinking the precipice, and shaking with anticipation. I need to cum.
“The correct reply is just, ‘Yes, Master.’”
“Yes, Master. Please, Master. Please, let me cum.”
“That’s better.” With his hand still inside me, fingers working my G-spot, he drops to his knees, splays my pussy lips with the other hand and wraps his tongue around my clit, flicking and tasting me.
Instantly, I orgasm, my pleasure pulsing electrically through me as I moan, gushing hot over my Master’s fingers. “Spread your ankles,” he commands and through a euphoric haze, I obey, trembling uncontrollably as my Master licks my thighs, clit, and pussy clean. My hips bucking, I want to give at the knees and let my weight slide to the floor, but he still has several fingers inside me. I can’t take any more. “Oh, God! Stop, please stop. Please stop.”
My Master sits back on his haunches, looking pleased with himself. “If that’s the result of leaving you for a few days, perhaps I’ll keep you waiting more often,” he comments and then stands, holding out a hand for me. “And if I may suggest, in the future, keep some fresh underwear in your bag. I find that I want to make you drip.” Speechlessly, I nod.
“And now to business. Shall we take a look at this apartment of yours?”
The apartment has one bedroom, with a nice open-plan lounge and kitchen area, a tidy little bathroom, and a lovely view over the park. The area is good, and the apartment is brand new. Everything sparkles, unlike my old, dismal flat with its peeling paint and smell of dampness. I am so pleased to think that I will soon be living here.
Richard looks around quickly, seeming unimpressed. “It’s very small,” he comments.
“Yes, it is, but it’s big enough for just me. And the area is so much nicer than my old place.”
“What if you want friends to stay? Or your parents perhaps? And where can you work? There’s no real place for a desk, or bookshelves, unless you have them in your lounge.”
“It’s fine. You can’t have everything at once, and I can afford this now, which I certainly couldn’t before.”
Richard purses his lips. “Get your stuff from your old place. I’ll send Ross to help you out. There’s no reason for you to be in there any longer, and I’d rather not risk your being there, just in case Mack Kane knows where you lived.”
A shudder goes down my spine. Mack had looked mad as hell with me, but surely he wouldn’t be dangerous? Would he?
I nod and agree.
*****
Ross drops Richard back at the office, then helps me pack my small number of possessions into the car—a few clothes and personal items, my steam-driven laptop, and my books. None of the furniture is mine, and I wouldn’t want it in my lovely new apartment anyway. When we return to the apartment block, with Ross staggering slightly under the weight of a cardboard box full of books, the concierge gives me a key. I notice that he is wearing a fresh shirt and is now sitting upright and alert at his desk.
“You’ve given me the wrong one,” I say. “This is for 127A. Mine is 47A.”
“That’s the one Mr Haswell said I was to give you.”
“Oh. Right.” Puzzled, I take the lift to the twelfth floor, Ross following me.
The twelfth-floor apartment is amazing. High above the city, the gorgeous park view is below, but now the view opens far over buildings old and new, across the river, and out to the hills beyond. There are three bedrooms, a huge lounge and dining area overlooking those stunning vistas in three directions, and a bathroom to die for with all polished glass and chrome fittings as well as a Jacuzzi.
I am torn between a broad grin and embarrassment.
“Where do you want this?” asks Ross, still weighed down under his load.
“Umm ... I’m not sure. Anywhere, Ross. Just put it down.” I don’t know quite what to do next. “I can’t stay here. I can’t possibly afford it.”
Ross looks at me with a slightly pitying expression. “You’re working for Mr Haswell?”
“Er, yes ...”
“So, he pays your wages? He knows how much you earn?”
“Yes.”
“And he’s your landlord, so he sets the rent ...”
“Err ... yes ...”
“And he told the concierge to give you this key?”
“Yes.”
“So this is the apartment you’re getting. And you can afford it. Now, where do you want this stuff?”
He’s right, of course. What else can I say? I look around my new glorious apartment. Where to put things?
“Just put them down anywhere, Ross.” I need to decide how to lay things out, and it’s not as though there is any furniture yet.
I spend the rest of the day arranging my things as best I can with no furniture. I am just deciding that I should go out to shop for a bed, a table and chairs, and some other essentials when the door intercom buzzes. “Yes?”
“Hello, Elizabeth. It’s me, Richard.”
He’s here! “Oh, come on up. It’s wonderful in here!”
A couple of minutes later, my Master enters then drops the latch on the apartment door. “I don’t want to be interrupted right now.” He smiles.
I start to speak. “I want to say thank you—”
He puts a finger to my lips. “You’re welcome. But you can show me your thankfulness in a better fashion. Now where ...?” He glances around the lounge and then walks to the kitchen counter. “Come here, Elizabeth.”
I stand obediently before him as he tilts up my chin to kiss me on the mouth, then he gradually pushes me backwards towards the counter.
“Take your skirt and panties off.”
Simply hearing him say those words excites me, and I feel that inner warmth rising again. I unzip my skirt, letting it slide down to my feet before stepping out of it and kicking it to one side. I then slip down my already noticeably damp panties. Pretty and black though they are, they are not needed. My stockings are enough.
As I stand up straight again, my Master is unbuttoning my blouse, sliding his hands inside, and then slipping it off my shoulders to also drop, discarded, to the floor. Next, he unhooks my bra, leaving me in only my black stockings.
For a moment he stands back, just looking at me, then he unclips my hair and pulls it tumbling down over my shoulders, a tumbling red torrent to match the fox at my loins.
“Undress me, Elizabeth.”
I slip each shirt button slowly free, and then his cuffs, kissing the taut flat muscles of his abdomen as I do so. His bronzed skin contrasts sharply against the white linen of his shirt before it too falls to the floor. Unbuckling his belt and unzipping him, I am growing steadily wetter as I feel his already bulging erection. As I slide down his clothes, his hands push me down from the shoulders into a kneeling position, then, gripping my hair, he pulls my face towards him, as his other hand guides his penis into my mouth.
I lick off the twinkling droplet from the tip, loving the salty, sweet taste of his pre-cum. As my tongue and lips wrap around the head, his shaft twitches under me, and I revel in the odd feeling of power it gives me to obey this man, my Master, to do his bidding in everything.
With my mouth filled, I glance upwards to see him standing straight, head up and back, hands clasped behind his head. “Pay attention to what you are doing, Elizabeth,” he says, and compliantly, I suck and lick his cock, feeling it pulse as I trail the tip of my tongue around the rim of the head, first flicking quickly, then making long sweeping strokes of my tongue, from the base of his shaft, full-length to the crown, savouring his trickling juices as his lust rises.
I hear him take a gasp above me. “You’re so good at that, Elizabeth, but in a minute, you are going to stand, and I’m going to fuck you senseless.”
At his words, I flood and gasp, feeling wet heat dribble down inside my thighs. He chuckles as he hears me. “You like that idea then?” Suddenly he bends, grasping me by the waist and lifts me, depositing my naked ass on the kitchen counter. “Spread ‘em,” he says, forcing my knees apart as he does so, and making me lean back to support myself. “Lie down,” he says, pushing me, flat-handed, back down onto the marble surface, then pulling me forward at the hips until his cock kisses into my pussy.
He thrusts for a moment, then stops. “Not wet enough yet, I think.”
I am not sure what he means by this, as it seems to me that I am already swollen and slippery for him, but he drops down and plants his mouth squarely over my pussy, thrusting in with his tongue, twisting and probing, drinking my juices. Involuntarily, I heave and gulp, arching my back to raise my hips to him, locking my ankles behind his head to open myself fully to my Master.
“Lie still,” he says. “I have not given you permission to move.”
I try to obey, but as his lips purse over my clit, I cannot help myself; I groan and writhe at the exquisite fire stabbing up through my core. My Master’s teeth nibble gently at my bud, then his tongue circles it, flicking and manipulating it until my pussy juices gush over his face. He licks deep, over my pussy lips, trailing through my cunt, lingering deliciously as he drinks from me.
“Wet enough now, I think,” he says as he rises to his feet.
Standing, my Master’s erection is huge. He probes with the tip at my entrance, once, twice, thrice, as my pussy twitches and jumps in response, then thrusts hard, headlong deep inside me, stopping only as he strikes my inner walls. I scream in response, my cunt throbbing to his rhythm as I try to tighten my pussy and belly muscles around him. I can barely think as he plunges into me, again and again, but I know that I want him there and that I want him to take the greatest pleasure in me.
He pounds away inside me, no gentleness, and demanding a response. Lying flat-backed on the stone surface, there is little I can do beyond scream, it rises unbidden from my depths, a deep, primal reply to the earthquake of the flesh I am experiencing at my Master’s bidding. My hips try to gyrate in time to his thrusting, but with no give to the stone surface, I cannot really move at all, only quiver below him as he plunges inside me, again and again, harder and harder.
I feel the stone slab slick under me, and I begin to slide over the smooth surface. My Master seizes me at the hips, holding me steady, as he continues his pounding inside me, balls-deep and then out completely to his full length, in and then out again. Breathing is difficult as I pant uncontrollably between screams, my heart pounding and my pulse racing.
I feel the rise of my orgasm within me, the tension building and my belly muscles clenching as it builds. Convulsing in a paroxysm of ecstatic joy, I try to lean up to embrace the sensation, but my Master’s hand, flat between my breasts, pushes me down on my back again, holding me pinned as my climax overtakes me.
I am unconscious of anything but the release, as my pulsating cunt sends violent waves of pleasure through my stomach and thighs. I do not know if I scream, gasp, or cry, only that I am lying helplessly wri
