Billionaire Kink Read online

  “I think she’s more than ready,” he murmured thickly.

  They could do whatever they wanted, and I would gladly accept it. The man on the bed reclined on his back, a formidable looking cock thrusting in the air. “Come give it a lick, sweetheart.” I reached for him, feeling wetness. My lips closed around the musky shaft, smelling myself on him. I worked aggressively, drawing on the end, as if sucking fluid through a straw. “Yeah, baby. That’s it.” His hands tangled in my hair, fingertips pressing into my scalp. “Oh, honey…”

  “Ride that cock.”

  My eagerness should have alarmed me, but I straddled him without preamble, lowering onto the waiting shaft. I loved this position, because the feeling of fullness was deliciously pronounced. I began to rub back and forth, grinding against him and stimulating my clitoris with each pass. Hands were on my bottom, massaging and encouraging me to continue. Something wet poured over my sensitive skin, a finger toying with my anus. I knew what they intended, and the thought sent a fireball of lust through me. I had never had anal intercourse before because my sex life wasn’t that adventurous. I doubted I would like it, but these men were more than welcome to prove me wrong.

  “Ooohh…ouch.”

  He’d inserted a finger, drawing it in and out. The pressure was pronounced, the sensation oddly arousing. I collapsed on the man beneath me, burying my face in a thick neck. Hands massaged my cheeks, the finger dipping further. More fluid was poured, the excess running along the length of my inner thighs. The bed moved; the person behind me was getting into position, preparing to use me.

  “This little hole is gonna be tight,” he murmured.

  “Fuck that ass,” grunted Cale.

  I braced myself for horrific pain, but instead, I felt only the tip of him, pushing, broadening my entrance. He eased inside slowly, opening up the constricted bands by tiny increments. He could have just driven in, devil-may-care, but he took his time, allowing me to adjust to the immense intrusion.

  “Oh, God!” I gasped. The sensation of fullness was outrageous, and surprisingly exciting. My tummy tensed, a wild rush of tingles registering. Cale’s cock continued to hammer upwards, filling me nearly to my cervix. “Ooohhh…oh…shit!”

  I gritted my teeth, as the largest part of him sunk, stinging my little hole, the edges smarting. That was the worst part of the experience, and, as he began to move, pleasure flared, enhancing every sensation. The pressure was astounding, the feeling so extreme, I gasped, as the inklings of orgasm threatened. My entire pelvic region was engaged and fully aroused. I had never experienced anything this intense before. The pleasure/pain sensation pushed the boundaries of what I thought I knew about sex to a whole new level.

  “Oh, fuck, man,” gasped Cale. “I’m gettin’ close.”

  My face was buried in a sweaty neck, while my body endured every stroke, every touch of the men using me. The cock in my ass drove deep, finding respite in my bowls, while the hardness in my pussy plunged upwards, stiffening.

  “Awww…Jesus…” Semen jetted into my silken passage.

  Fingers dug into my hips, while my bottom was taken vigorously. Each thrust brought a tiny shot of pain that exacerbated the feeling of pleasure. I shuddered then, convulsing, and gasping, “Omigod! Fuck me! Fuck me!” I’d never uttered those words in my life, but I needed him to use me at that moment, the crest of bliss reaching its summit. I collapsed on the man beneath me, while the cock in my ass plunged deep and stiffened, spraying my insides with white-hot cum.

  “Fuck, yeah!” he shouted. “God…oh, man…”

  I was exhausted; my body was slickened with perspiration. The man beneath me shifted slightly, his cock falling free. I dripped with semen, desperately needing to use the bathroom.

  “Your job’s done here,” said Mr. Gordon. The men took their towels and left the room. His attention was on me. “Clean yourself up, and get out.” He stood abruptly and headed for the door.

  I had seen something unusual in that brief moment. There had been a dark spot on his pants, between his legs. He had ejaculated! Seeing me taken by two men had turned him on so much he had come in his pants. That had never happened before. I slid off the bed and snatched my clothing from the chair. I tidied myself in the bathroom, using a washcloth and warm water. I reapplied lipstick and dabbed the flecks of mascara away under my eyes. When I emerged, the baldheaded man known as Cale was in the room.

  “You were a delight.” He handed me cash. “I was told to pay the whore.” He strode towards the door.

  I glanced at the money, feeling numb. “Wait.” He paused, one hand on the doorknob. “I…need your help with something.” He glanced at me. “You’re for hire, right? You do this for a job.”

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “Can I hire you?”

  “You can do whatever you want.”

  I dug through my purse, grabbing my phone. “What’s your number?”

  “What you got in mind?”

  “I…have some bondage I wanna do.”

  He smiled. “To Mr. Gordon?”

  “Um, maybe.”

  “He won’t be happy about that.”

  “Just gimme your number. We’ll worry about the details later.”

  Chapter Seven

  Patience had never been one of my virtues, and, as the weeks wore on, I began to despair that the opportunity to exert some control of my own would never arrive. The clinic was up and running, with a second on the verge of opening; my sister was on her way home for a visit, and I found myself nearly insane with expectation…waiting for tonight. I had received a call two days ago informing me that my wait was over. I was going to risk everything that I had worked so hard for, including every penny I had left in my bank account, but I didn’t care.

  I knew I was in trouble. My obsession had reached epic levels, and I was embarrassed to admit all the hours I spent online watching interviews I had now memorized by heart. Pictures of Mr. Gordon were burned into my consciousness. I could close my eyes and see him clearly. An indefinable yearning had manifested in my gut, like an aggressive cancer. It was eating away at me every day. My dreams were vivid and far too realistic. I saw myself with him, in what I imagined his apartment to be, his plane or his car, but most importantly, in his arms. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. It would all come true tonight. The limousine picked me up after seven, and I was ready, feeling anxious, yet excited, to see my plan reach fruition. The thought of failure was not even a consideration. Tonight would either bring the end of all that I had worked for or the beginning of something new.

  I ascended the steps leading to the red brick house, the door opening. “Hi, Margaret.”

  “Hello, Ms. Fox.”

  I smiled, genuinely happy to see her. I followed the housekeeper to the second floor, my walk of shame leading me to the doors of the bedroom. I had experienced strange pleasures and fears within this room, at the mercy of a wealthy and eccentric man, but tonight would be different. The robe waited for me on the bed, and I undressed quickly, sliding the silken material over my shoulders. I checked myself in the bathroom, seeing a woman with shining, expectant eyes.

  This is it.

  You shouldn’t do this.

  Shut up.

  He’s going to stop the funding.

  I don’t care.

  You’re too obsessed, Gretchen. You’re so selfish. What about all those kids who need medical care? What about that breast cancer drug? So many people are getting it at a huge discount because of the deal you have with Mr. Gordon. How could you do that to those sick women?

  Shut up!

  You’ve lost your damn mind.

  Shush! I’m not listening to you.

  I left the room feeling slightly worried now. What if my plan backfired? I had envisioned the scheme ending in success. Not once had I thought otherwise, but now…alone in the room, I had second thoughts.

  “Hello, Gretchen.”

  I spun around at this greeting. He had never used my first name before.
It sounded wonderful on his lips. “H-hi.” He wore a suit and tie, impeccably dressed, as always. I had learned to read his body language over the weeks, and I could tell he was relaxed and in good spirits. How long would that last? I sat on the bed and waited. He took his seat, eyeing me. An awkward silence followed.

  “There’s something different about you tonight.”

  “There is?”

  “You’re nervous.”

  “How do you know?”

  “You seem tense.”

  I swallowed, hard. “No.”

  “Yes.”

  The door opened then, and the men I had hired entered, their expressions neutral. I had paid them twice their salary, and I hoped it was enough. I prayed greed would be my gain; it had to be, or this plan was about to fail.

  “What do you want us to do with her?” asked Cale.

  “What don’t I?”

  I had spoken to Cale two days ago, finalizing the arrangements. He was actually a father of two, and he worked for an escort agency making a solid living.

  “How about we mix it up tonight?” he asked.

  Mr. Gordon scratched the side of his nose. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Ladies choice.”

  “That’s not an option.”

  “You’re sure of yourself, aren’t you?” I felt emboldened and slightly reckless at that moment.

  “What’s going on?” He eyed me warily. He was no fool. He could sense the shift in power. He stood, reaching into his pocket, presumably to get his cellphone. In an instant, the men were on him, grasping his arms. The phone flew across the room, landing on the carpet. “Don’t you fucking touch me!” He fought to gain freedom, his face a mask of rage.

  “The restraints are in the bag, Gretchen,” said Cale.

  I vaulted off the bed, unzipping the duffle bag and retrieving the items we would need to secure Mr. Gordon. I was nearly giddy with excitement, because the plan had gone perfectly. He struggled against the men, thrashing and kicking, but their strength far exceeded his efforts. He was chained to the bed in due course, his wrists and ankles encased in leather. His feet were secured to the underside, the chains wrapping around the bottom of the frame.

  “I’m going to ruin you!” he spat.

  I felt his attention on me, but I was busy retrieving a pair of scissors from the duffle bag. “Is he good?”

  “Should be.”

  “You can go now.”

  “We’ll wait outside in case you need us.”

  “Fine.” I held the scissors, feeling a little like a crazed psychopath. I was mildly surprised that he hadn’t screamed. Margaret was the loose cannon in the situation. We hadn’t planned on what would happen, if he had the chance to alert her. I eyed my captive, as the door closed.

  “You’re going to pay for this.” His tone was low and threatening.

  “I know.”

  “Your clinics are over. You’re finished.”

  I had expected this. “Do whatever you have to.”

  “This turning of the tables is hardly original.”

  “No…but it’s what I want.” I knelt on the bed, eyeing his pants. I began to cut through the bottoms of the perfectly tailored clothing. “Now, don’t move or I could hurt you.”

  His look simmered. I felt badly for him…for about three seconds, and then I let that useless emotion pass. I had been used for his pleasure for months, and tonight…it was my turn. The material gave way to reveal his legs, which were covered in a smattering of hair. I removed his shoes, letting them drop. I managed to pull his socks through the leather restraints. He fought slightly, trying to kick me, but his movements were restricted.

  “I’m going to sue you. You’ll be bankrupt by the time I’m done.”

  “Good luck. It’s like squeezing orange juice out of a lemon, Mr. Gordon. I’m broke.”

  “You’re going to prison.” I glanced at him, feeling a moment of doubt. “False imprisonment, kidnapping, emotional distress. Rape.”

  Rape? “Oh, my goodness,” I laughed. “You poor thing.” I cut away at his pants, freeing an entire leg. I worked on the other, although he was trying to kick me. “If I cut you, it’s your own damn fault.”

  “You’ve no idea who you’re dealing with, Ms. Fox. When I say I’ll ruin you, there won’t be anything left. You’ll have the clothes on your back and nothing else. You forget the tapes. One click and they’re on the Internet. Say goodbye to your reputation. I’ll let you walk away free and clear, if you untie me right now.”

  I had unbuttoned his shirt and cut through his jacket. “I don’t care about your threats. I…just want you. I want to touch you. I want you in me. If tonight’s all I get, I’ll take it.” My words silenced him. He watched as I cut away the jacket. I pulled it from his body, exposing his chest. His muscles revealed a dedication to exercise and weight lifting. His stomach was smattered with hair, the belly rising and falling gently. He was nearly naked now; his boxers were the only remaining article of clothing left. The telltale bulge of his cock forced the fabric upwards. I found it amusing that he could blather on about how he was going to ruin me and send me to jail, yet everything that I was doing seemed to arouse him.

  I tapped the scissors to my mouth. “Looks like I’m almost done. You’re pretty hot for a billionaire.”

  “I’ll take Emily down too. She can join you in the same cell.”

  I leaned over him. “If that makes you happy, Mr. Gordon.” His dark blue eyes had flecks of gray in them. “Don’t you want to touch me? I want to touch you.”

  “You, fucking crazy bitch.”

  His lips were fuller than I expected, and he smelled like a day at the beach, earthy, yet crisp like freshly washed linen. “I am crazy. You’re all I think about. I wanna know everything about you, but you give me nothing. I know it’s a game to you, but I can’t stand it anymore. You like to watch me having sex with people. Don’t you want to touch me?” My hand rested on his chest. “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute.”

  “Don’t mistake anger for lust.”

  “There’s a fine line there.”

  “You crossed the line. The next time I see you, you’ll be wearing an orange jumpsuit.”

  “You can’t stop me, Mr. Gordon.”

  I traced his nipple with the tip of my finger. “I’m going to touch every last inch of you, and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it.” A shot of liquid adrenaline, heady and invigorating, raced through my system. I loved the control I felt, even if it meant my own destruction. His look smoldered with anger and need. I read the signals loud and clear; he was aroused beyond measure. I was going to enjoy every second of his captivity. I suspected he would to. I leaned towards him, his eyes widening in alarm. “Kiss me.”

  Chapter Eight

  He turned his head to the side, offering me his cheek. I pressed my nose to his face, inhaling the scent of his skin. This was the moment I had been dreaming of for months. I lay upon his chest, threading my fingers through his hair and feeling his cock prodding my pussy. He was still safely encased in his boxers, but not for long. I nuzzled his face, enjoying the beginnings of a beard.

  “Oh, God…” I kissed him, tasting the saltiness of his skin. His scalp felt hot to the touch, his hair silky soft. I nibbled on his ear, prodding the indentation with my tongue. My robe was tangled around me, and I sat up to remove it, exposing myself. “See something you want?”

  “You crazy bitch.”

  “If you’re so upset, why don’t you scream? Margaret could call the police. They’d rescue you. They could save you from me; because if they don’t, you will be mine.” I wondered at the husky tone in my voice. Where had this sex goddess come from? I rubbed myself against him, my pussy enjoying the feel of his cock. “How awful it must be to actually have contact with your plaything.” I tried to kiss him, but he turned away. I nibbled on his throat instead, sucking and producing an instant hickie. “I have to ask you something. How many times have you jacked off to those videos? O
nce a day? Twice a day? Three times?” I was making his boxers wet with the creamy residue of my arousal.

  “Untie me, Gretchen.”

  “I love the way my name sounds on your lips. Say it again.”

  “Go to hell,” he growled.

  I approached his mouth, but he jerked away to avoid me. “You have to want me, James. I know you do. How long were you going to deny yourself? Forever? Was that the plan?” I kissed his throat and trailed a path of dampness to his chest, where my tongue circled his tiny nipple. “Hum…you taste so nice.” He groaned. “Do you like what I’m doing to you? Are you gonna be able to handle it?”

  “I’ve nothing to say to you.”

  “Did you not touch your wife either? Is that why she left you?” He froze. Oooh…I’d hit a nerve. “She’s married to some Indian businessman. Maybe he can give her what you can’t.” I brushed his cock, which jerked beneath the silken material of his clothing. I bit a nipple gently and sucked. “Why didn’t you ever have kids?”

  “Shut up.” He sounded hoarse.

  I grasped the scissors, holding them in such a way that it looked like I might stab him. “You’re going to answer my questions.”

  His eyes widened in alarm. “It’s none of your fucking business. Get those goddamned scissors away from me!”

  The cold tip of the metal pressed to the indentation at the base of his throat. “You don’t know me, Mr. Gordon. You took a chance in hiring me. I might never have been arrested or anything…but that doesn’t mean I’m not capable of all sorts of things.” I felt a moment of triumph at the flash of doubt in his eye. “How do you know I don’t pick up men and turn the tables on them? Maybe I’ve done it before with other wealthy men? Maybe I’ve humiliated them so much they won’t even go to the police? Did you ever think of that?”