Billionaire Kink Read online

  “Oh.”

  “Is there anything else you want to know?”

  “I have a ton of questions.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

  “Not unless you want me to.”

  Ugh. What kind of answer was that? “Is this how you conduct business? Does the CEO of Harlan Pharmaceuticals get videotaped having sex?”

  “No.”

  “Why me?”

  “Please.” He indicated the bed. “Have a seat.” He took a leather chair near the bookshelf. “I might not have been at the meeting, but I monitored your proposal. You must know you’re an attractive woman, beautiful, actually. You have spunk and passion. It gave me an idea. I saw it as an opportunity to fulfill some fantasies.”

  “Do you do this a lot?”

  “No.”

  “Uh-huh.” I stared at my fingernails, noticing a ragged edge on my pinky.

  “You don’t believe me, but that’s neither here nor there. You’ve read the contract. You know what’s required. You’re in no danger, Ms. Fox.” He wandered over to the nightstand and took my purse, digging through the bag.

  “Hey, what are you—”

  He handed me my phone. “Keep it near, if it gives you security.”

  “T-thanks.”

  He resumed his seat, eyeing me. “Do you have any other questions?”

  “Yeah, but never mind. Can we just get this over with?”

  A hint of a smile turned the edges of his mouth up. “As you wish.” He produced a phone and pressed a button. I eyed the door warily, wondering who would arrive. As the seconds ticked by, the only sound came from the birds outside the window. I rubbed my arms.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No.”

  “I can turn the heat up.”

  “Um, that’s all right.” The door opened, and a thin, gorgeous looking woman entered. Oh, great. I’m gonna have to do the lesbian thing.

  “This is Elizabeth. Elizabeth meet Gretchen.”

  She smiled. “Hello.”

  “Hi.”

  “She looks petrified, James.”

  “She does, doesn’t she?”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Nothing.”

  The tall brunette grinned. “Well, that figures.” She began to remove her clothing, revealing an impossibly thin body and small breasts. “This is supposed to be fun. You’ve got nothing to worry about, Gretchen. You’ll see.”

  Chapter Three

  “I hate to fuck in silence. Is there any music?”

  “Sure.” Mr. Gordon stood and went to the shelf, fiddling with an audio component. “Anything in particular?”

  “Something easy.” The sultry refrains of Jazz filled the room. “Not too loud.”

  “Better?”

  “Yes.” Her attention was on me. “She needs a blindfold, doesn’t she?”

  “It’s your call.” He resumed his position in the chair. “Top drawer on the right.”

  She retrieved a strip of black satin material. “This’ll work great.” She sat next to me on the bed, her eyes shining mischievously.

  I scooted an inch away from her. “You’re not tying me up, are you?”

  “Just covering your eyes.”

  I glanced warily at Mr. Gordon. His look was impassive. The material went over my face, plunging me into blackness. Elizabeth’s arms grazed my shoulders and her breath fanned out over my neck, giving me goose bumps.

  “Is that good?”

  “I-I guess.”

  Her hands were on my back, gently massaging. “You’re so tense.”

  Not being able to see actually lessened the rough edges of my anxiety. I knew Mr. Gordon’s attention was on me, but it was easier not being aware of it. The feel of her hands sent tiny pinpricks of sensation down my spine. Strong fingers began to knead, rubbing and easing away my nervousness. I had never been fond of Jazz, but this piece was the right mix of rhythm and mystery, with an edge of something forbidden. Soft lips brushed my neck, making me jerk slightly.

  “There now,” she murmured. “You have to shut your brain off. I want you to feel, not think. Can you do that?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “Good.”

  Warm lips grazed my neck, sending an avalanche of tingles into my tummy. Fingers loosened the muscles in my shoulders, while she kissed me beneath my chin and lower. She felt silky soft, and so unlike a man. There was nothing hard or abrasive about this encounter. Her hands drove into my hair, fingertips massaging my scalp. Her personal attentions were having a surprising effect on me. I was almost grateful for the blindfold; otherwise I would have shut my eyes, because everything she did felt wonderful. The edges of my robe slipped from my shoulders, exposing the tops of my breasts. I had almost forgotten we were being observed, and I preferred it that way, actually. The blindfold was a safe haven. I could retreat into the rooms of my imagination and pretend that this was only a dream. Kisses landed on my neck, while hands massaged my arms, her knuckles brushing the edges of my breasts. The silken material dropped to my stomach, my nipples hardening instantly. I was almost fully exposed now.

  “So pretty,” she whispered.

  Her lips touched mine, the sensation forcing my belly to contract and shudder. I had never kissed a woman before, nor had I ever wanted to…but the sweet smell of her breath and the sound of her breathing had me turning towards her, wanting more. Gentle hands drove through the strands of my hair, as her lips touched my cheek. Tiny kisses fell on my nose, chin, and mouth, where she licked me. I swallowed, anticipating a real kiss, but she caressed the skin beneath my chin instead, her hands gently rubbing.

  “These are amazing.” Her fingers were on my breasts. I reached for her in that instant, which was shocking. It was an involuntary reaction. “You can touch me.” Embarrassment had me dropping my hands. “There are no rules, Gretchen,” she purred. “You can do whatever you want.”

  I opened my eyes behind the blindfold, seeing a sliver of light near the bottom portion of the material. I tilted my head back to catch a glimpse of a man in a chair, but it was gone in a flash because her hands held my head, while kisses fell on my cheeks. Will she kiss me now? An out of control tempest raged inside of me, forcing my abdominal muscles to contract and release. I felt like a rubber band that had been pulled out, stretched to capacity. Her mouth covered mine at last. A silky tongue was urgent and coxing, encouraging me to respond, which I did. My perception was altered because of the blindfold, the darkness creating a dreamlike place where I could run and hide. While her hands cupped my breasts, mine rested on her shoulders, feeling the thinness of her form.

  “Take this off,” she murmured, grasping the robe, revealing my stomach and thighs. “Lay back.”

  I fell to the bed, my legs dangling over the end. All thoughts of hidden cameras and eccentric billionaires were forgotten, as my female lover kissed my neck, descending to my clavicle, where she left a series of wet spots. Her face was cushioned in the valley of my breasts, her lissome body rubbing against me, the friction almost unbearable. She moved with the grace of a dancer, each touch a measured seduction. The wetness between my legs was alarming. I would have to ponder the state of my arousal at another time, because my breasts were in her hands, the nipples being rubbed against her cheeks.

  “Like erasers.” A nipple was in her mouth.

  Velvet flames shot straight into my core, where they caught fire. Sensation throbbed from the inside out; the feelings were so intense; I grasped the bedspread. She slid between my legs, pressing her length into my pelvis. There wasn’t a part of my body that wasn’t cognizant of where she was and what she was doing, because everything was connected. When she suckled a nipple, my pussy contracted. The movement of her hips had me lifting my ass off the bed to rub myself against her. I tossed my head against the quilt, from side to side, while kisses fell to my stomach, the quivering mass revealing the magnitude of my need.

  Her hands were
on my thighs, while those soft lips left a path of dampness, nearing the apex of my core. I’d never been all that enthusiastic about oral sex, finding the act embarrassing, but as her breath hovered over me, heating my skin, I couldn’t help wondering what a woman’s tongue would feel like. She nudged my clit with her nose, sending a shockwave through me.

  “Oh!”

  “I think you’ll like this.” Her voice was husky and low.

  She kissed my shaved mound, pausing over me, hesitating. I had a horrible moment, thinking that perhaps I smelled so bad she couldn’t continue, but a second later, her tongue swiped a path of wetness from the bottom of my slit to my nub. My brief instance of panic vanished, replaced by the extraordinary sensation of a woman’s tongue stroking me, dipping into the dampness of my opening. Her face was soft against my skin, her mouth sucking gently, pulling on the edges of my labia. A tongue speared me aggressively, wiggling and lapping deeply.

  “Oh, my God…”

  The persistence of her attention had my back arching, pressing my pussy into her face. I had released the quilt, letting my fingers find her hair, feeling the silken strands. I was mortified by my behavior, but I couldn’t resist pushing her into me, wanting more. The length of her tongue drove through my wetness, laving the insides of my tunnel and then pushing against my nub, which felt like a pebble. Saliva dripped between my cheeks, wetting the bedspread. I was lost in sensation. Because of the blindfold, my reality was confined to taste, touch, and sound. The sinuous wetness of her tongue, the heat of her breath scorching my sensitive skin, and the constant pressure that was applied to my nub, inched me towards oblivion.

  “Oh…oohh…” A finger slid into me, followed by another. Her mouth closed over the little orb of my clit, teeth gently biting. “Oh…my fucking God!” I tumbled into the bliss that waited, shuddering from hundreds of mini contractions that pulsed around her fingers. I pushed her face away; any hint of pressure was too much now. Those long fingers withdrew, leaving a path of moisture. I stayed immobile for several minutes, listening to the exotic melody of a saxophone. I felt around the bed for Elizabeth, but I encountered nothing but air. Confused, I lifted the blindfold away from my face. I was alone. That’s weird.

  I remembered the hidden camera and snatched the robe off the floor, tossing it over me. I took my clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, washing up and getting dressed quickly.

  I guess it’s over then. That was...bizarre.

  The housekeeper was waiting for me outside the bedroom. “Would you like something to eat or drink, Ms. Fox?”

  “Uh, no. I’m…fine.” I followed her down the hallway to the staircase. “Where is Mr. Gordon?”

  “He’s left.”

  Yeah? No, kidding.

  The limousine waited for me in the driveway, and, as I got in, I glanced up at the house, wondering if the last hour had really happened, or was it a dream?

  Chapter Four

  I would never admit it openly, but I had enjoyed my encounter with the mysterious billionaire and his lesbian nymph. I had envisioned some sort of BDSM torture chamber equipped with chains, whips, and a muscled Dom dressed in leather, but, thankfully, that had not happened. My fears had been for naught. The strange sexual episode was a distant memory, as I threw myself into work, interviewing nurses, hiring contractors, and double-checking the permits for the clinic.

  Something strange was happing, though. Whenever I had a free moment, I found myself on my laptop, searching the Web for images and information on Mr. James Gordon. I bookmarked several pages regarding his company’s successful breast cancer drug, Demetril. There had been a surge of media coverage when the medication had first hit the market, resulting in several news conferences. Whenever I had a free moment, I watched YouTube clips, mesmerized by the man in the tailored suit, with the handsome and charming smile. His speeches were articulate, but far too short.

  By the following week, I’d memorized the names of Mr. Gordon’s top management team, including the board of directors and his publicist. Why this would concern me was a mystery. I had scored a coup by discovering that he had indeed been married, but divorced several years ago. She was a New York socialite. She had recently remarried and given an interview to Town & Country Magazine, briefly mentioning her ex-husband and his breast cancer drug. She was an icy blonde, thin as a rail, and now happily married to an Indian industrialist. Her idea of a good time was designing swanky horse stables for her collection of Arabians. Amenities included air-conditioning and a hydromassage pool for the animals. Give me a break.

  As the day drew near for my next “meeting” with Mr. Gordon, I became increasingly anxious and excited about the prospect of seeing him again. Would I always be blindfolded? Would I only have sex with other women? A thousand questions raced through my mind, and I was so distracted, that I forgot a lunch date with a friend. I called June and apologized profusely. I had received the confirmation text in the afternoon regarding the time I would be picked up, and I raced home from work, hurrying to take a shower and get ready. Shortly after seven, I grabbed my purse and headed for the elevator.

  The chauffer was not the same as before, but the location in Lake Bluff was. The house looked eerie in the dark, the trees nearly overpowering. There were lights on in the driveway, and several windows were illuminated. I stepped from the vehicle, as a rush of tingles bounced around in my tummy. The kindly housekeeper waited by the front door.

  “Good evening, Ms. Fox.”

  “Thanks. What’s your name, by the way?”

  “Margaret.”

  A modest chandelier illuminated the entranceway. The house was utterly quiet, just as before. I followed Margaret up the curving staircase to the second floor. We were heading for the bedroom, and with each passing step, my anticipation grew. What a difference tonight was! The first meeting had been the icebreaker, and, now that I knew what to expect, I could relax and let go of my fear.

  She opened the door. “Mr. Gordon will be with you shortly.”

  “Thanks.”

  The robe was folded on the bed. I undressed quickly and put it on, heedless of the hidden camera. It was thrilling knowing that I was being watched doing such mundane things. In the bathroom, I used the facilities, and then stared at myself in the mirror while washing my hands. I had fussed with my makeup earlier, carefully applying mascara and eyeliner. I wiped away a few dark flakes that had fallen to my cheeks. My hands trembled slightly. The adrenaline coursing through me had raised my blood pressure, no doubt. When I returned to the bedroom, I wasn’t alone. Mr. Gordon was waiting for me. This time he wore a pair of jeans and a gray silk shirt.

  “It’s good to see you again, Ms. Fox.”

  “T-thanks.” Awkward! How many times had he watched that video? Did I even want to know? What did I look like? Could you see cellulite? Did I look as sexy as I had felt? “Hum…can I ask you a question?”

  “Of course.” He smiled slightly.

  “Will the…um…encounters always be the same?”

  “No.”

  “They won’t?” That was slightly worrying.

  “I like variety, Ms. Fox.”

  “Oh. Are the images grainy?”

  “The equipment I use is professional grade.”

  My spirits plummeted. “Oh, great.” I suddenly felt self-conscious.

  “Are you worried about what you look like?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Wait here.” He strode from the room, the smell of his citrusy-woodsy cologne lingering pleasantly. Within a minute, the door opened, and he returned carrying a laptop. “This is what you want to see, isn’t it?”

  He pressed a button and an image appeared of a blindfolded woman on a bed. I don’t know what was more shocking, the sight of my breasts, full and contoured, and looking far sexier than I ever imagined, or the woman kissing my neck, her hands touching me, caressing my skin.

  “Oh…wow.”

  The laptop suddenly snapped shut. “You’ve nothing to worry about.” Hi
s look was veiled. “Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?”

  “Not to sound like I’m prying, but…can’t you get porn off the Internet? Why do you do this?”

  “That’s my business, Ms. Fox.”

  The door opened, and two women entered. Elizabeth was not one of them. So it’s a threesome tonight. Mr. Gordon sat in the chair, not more than five feet away, while I stood apprehensively and slightly confused.

  The blonde held out her hand. “I’m Cammy.”

  “Hi, Cammy.”

  “Lola,” said the brunette.

  I noticed Lola held a duffle bag. What the hell is in there? “Hi.”

  Mr. Gordon nodded slightly, an indication that the proceedings could now commence. Nervous bundles of energy assailed me, dampening my pussy, which was strange. I sat on the bed, holding my knees together, while the insides of my palms began to sweat. Cammy dropped her robe, revealing perky breasts and a strange looking tattoo on her hip. Lola let her robe drop. Both women were stick-thin gorgeous. I felt a twinge of envy, because I was a good ten pounds over where I wanted to be. I glanced at Mr. Gordon, but his look was unaffected, as usual. He’d make an excellent poker player.

  Lola knelt on the bed. “Now there, pussycat,” she purred. Her hands touched my shoulders. “Are you ready to play our little game?”

  I cleared my throat. “Sure.”

  “Do you want us to go rough on her or soft,” asked Cammy.

  “It’s your call.”

  “Don’t worry,” Lola said. “You’ll like everything we do to you.”

  My pulse had raced into overdrive. I grasped the edges of the robe, holding the material together, trying to shield myself. A woman was at each shoulder, and I felt closed in, as if two leopardesses were about to pounce on me, and they were. My agitation seemed to amuse Mr. Gordon. The tiniest hint of a smile shone in his eyes. Bastard.

  Hands were on me. “She’s a pretty girl,” murmured Lola.

  “She sure is.”

  The garment slid from my shoulders, exposing my breasts, the nipples hardening instantly. Cammy pulled determinedly, taking away the only thing that had given me a sense of security. I was naked in front of strangers…again.