An Heir For The Billionaire: His Every Command (Part One) (A BDSM And Domination Erotic Romance Novelette) (2nd Edition) (5 page)

I was on the very edge of orgasm—so close that I could taste it—when Randall withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. He chuckled as I tried to twist and move, whimpering from being so close to climax only to have the relief taken away. “This is the punishment you chose,” he reminded me, tweaking my nipples playfully. “Stay here.” He climbed off of the bed, taking off his blazer and rolling up his sleeves as he wandered around the room in search of something. I followed him with my gaze, watching as he opened drawers and inspected the room; I wondered what he was looking for. I caught sight of his smile in profile as his eyes lit on something. “Ah, here we go. I’ll have to buy it; I suppose—certainly don’t want any questions about how this was used.” He pulled a large back massager wand out of a drawer, showing it to me with a little grin. “I suspect I’m not the first one to have this predicament, however.” He came back to the bed, flicking a switch on the base of the wand. It came to life, humming and buzzing lowly, and I watched and listened as Randall moved through the different massage settings, finding one he liked.

I cried out when Randall brushed the massage head along my slick labia, giving me a brief, teasing taste. “You’re so deliciously wet, my dear,” Randall observed, pressing it more firmly against my pussy, until the low, constant vibrations were all that I cared about. I writhed, twisting my hips, needing more contact with the stimulus, and Randall chuckled, spreading my labia and keeping me pinned to the bed as he pressed the massage head against my clit, rubbing slightly.

“Ohhh, oh God, oh fuck,” I said, panting, my back arching up off of the bed. Randall switched between settings, activating the heat function and moving between fast throbbing and low pulses, driving me absolutely crazy with lust. He moved the massager around, pressing it right up against my clit before retreating, teasing me relentlessly.

He got rid of the massager for a long moment, setting it aside as he plunged his fingers deep inside of me. I was moaning, panting and whimpering as he thrust his fingers in and pulled them out, pushing deeper and deeper into my pussy with every movement of his hand. His thumb pressed against my clit and I almost couldn’t hold back—and then he retreated completely, withdrawing his fingers and leaving me to shiver and shake, gasping and panting. I felt a mixture of arousal and dread as he picked up the massager again, turning it on high with the heat setting and running it along my inner thighs, teasing me while he waited for my arousal to subside long enough to torture me again. I twisted and moved on the bed, crying out every time Randall withdrew the makeshift vibrator—every time he denied me the climax I so desperately needed. I lost count of how many times Randall brought me to the very edge of orgasm, only to leave me shaking and whimpering, strung out and needy for completion.

“Are you very sorry for what you did before, Jasmine?” Randall asked me, turning off the massager. I nodded, unable to form words. My mind was swimming in lust, my body on fire, electricity running along my nerves. Randall smiled slowly, kissing me lightly on the lips. “Do you want to make it up to me?” I nodded again. Randall put the massager aside and lifted me up into a sitting position, brushing his fingers across my cheek as he stepped back, standing in front of me. He unbuckled his belt, unzipping and opening his fly and pushing his pants and boxers down until they fell to the floor. Randall reached around to my back and untied my wrists, freeing my hands. “Touch me, my dear,” he instructed me. I nodded, more than happy—absolutely eager—to get my hands on his hard, thick cock. I wanted it inside of me; I wanted to taste it and feel it.

I took Randall’s cock in my half-numb hand, wrapping my fingers around him tightly and stroking him slowly. I ran my thumb over the head, feeling the precum that had begun to form there. I leaned in and wrapped my lips around the tip of Randall’s cock, lapping up his precum as my hand worked up and down, my thumb working the long nerve that ran along the underside of his cock. I looked up at him and saw the smile that curved his lips, the intense desire in his bright eyes as he watched me. I was determined that in spite of the playfulness of the punishment, I was going to do everything I could to “make up” for my misbehavior earlier. I was utterly subservient to Randall in that moment, wanting to worship his cock with my mouth and hands, wanting more than anything to give him pleasure. The sense of being so submissive to him was intoxicating, and I told myself that I’d think about it later; that the act of pleasing him was more important than thinking about why I was doing it.

I gripped his cock around the base, moving my mouth up and down as I took more of him in, loving the salty-sharp taste of his precum as it coated my mouth. I felt Randall’s cock twitching between my lips, in my hand, heard him moaning softly—still so self-controlled even in the midst of his arousal—and felt his fingers working through my hair, caressing. I pulled back, focusing more effort on stroking him, reaching down to cup his balls carefully in my other hand. I stroked and jiggled them slightly, smiling to myself as he gasped, pushing his hips into my touches.

Randall gave me a firm but gentle push away when I was certain he was on the edge of climax, his cock jerking erratically in my hand. He sent me sprawling on the incredibly comfortable bed, unbuttoning his shirt and quickly casting it aside before pouncing on me, pinning me down against the mattress. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, running my hands over his back, around to his chest, wanting to touch every inch of his body. Randall guided his cock up against my soaking wet pussy, and my hips were pushing down instinctively, my body craving the feel of him inside of me. “I could easily spend days dreaming about having you at my complete mercy,” Randall murmured, kissing me slowly as he teased me with the tip of his cock. “All tied up in my bed at home; you would be so gorgeous, trapped like that—being tormented over and over again, coming harder than you’ve ever done in your entire life.” His low words, almost a purr in my ears, were driving me almost as crazy as the temptation of his cock, so close and yet so far away.

He thrust into me slowly, filling me up inch by inch, letting me feel him as he took his time. I moaned, kissing everywhere I could reach, pushing my hips down and taking him as deeply as I possibly could. “You feel so good, Jasmine,” he told me, shifting his hips and picking up his pace, brushing along my g-spot with every other thrust. I cried out, my nails digging into his shoulders, and I heard Randall moan.

“Sorry,” I managed to say between gasps, trying to disengage my grip slightly. Randall shook his head, kissing me deeply and hungrily.

“No, I love that. Scratch, bite, whatever you need.” I smiled, wrapping my legs around his waist tightly and twisting and shifting my hips in counterpoint to his thrusts. “Keep in mind, however—you’re not allowed to come until I give you permission.” I nodded, moaning into Randall’s lips as he kissed me once more.

Randall lifted himself up, unwrapping my legs from his waist and lifting them up onto his shoulders. I bit my lip; fighting back the orgasm I could feel wearing away at my mind, coming closer every moment as the change in angle sent Randall deeper into my pussy. I gripped his arms, arching and twisting, desperately forcing down the climax I was so close to that it was almost agony. I couldn’t hold back much longer; the prolonged teasing, everything that Randall had done to me, had made me so incredibly turned on that I couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” I cried out, not even ashamed of the pleading in my voice, “Please Randall, please please please.” Randall reached down between our bodies, his eyes sparkling with lust and mischief, and began stroking my clit, sending jolts of hot electric sensation through my body. I bit my lip harder, digging my nails into his skin and writhing uncontrollably. It seemed like an eternity—and all at once I wasn’t sure if I wanted the torture to go on forever or to end immediately.

“Come for me, Jasmine,” Randall told me suddenly. “Come for me right now; come as hard as you can.” I almost screamed with relief, my last self-control disappearing as my body gave into the climax that I’d held at bay for so long. I felt Randall’s thick, hard cock twitching inside of me as I rode through the orgasm, moaning his name over and over again, and then I felt the flood of sticky-slick heat filling me in waves, intensifying my climax. I heard him moaning, not as loudly as I was, and felt his whole body tensing as he went through his own orgasm, thrusting into me hard and fast several more times before he stopped.

Randall let my legs fall from his shoulders and sagged against me, panting. “You are so, so good,” He told me, kissing me lazily. Our bodies were slick with sweat, and my arms and legs were trembling from the sheer force of the pleasure he had given me.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I replied, struggling to catch my breath. I felt so good, so satisfied, that I could feel laughter bubbling up inside of me. Randall pulled himself up and looked down at me, a faint smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“If only I had days at my disposal to treat you the way you deserve to be treated,” he said, climbing off of me and relaxing on the bed. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Sadly, I’m certain that you’re a very busy woman, and I’m definitely a very busy man.” He sat up and pulled me up with him, giving me a quick kiss. “I think we should have a shower before we depart.” I considered it; I was exhausted but contented, my mind so fogged over with lust that I couldn’t even begin to think of the strange series of events that my night had been composed of so far.

Randall guided me into the luxurious shower, turning the water on and letting it run until it heated up. The toiletries supplied by the hotel were just as impressive—brands that I knew cost more money than I was typically disposed to spend on soap and shampoo. He took advantage of the situation to touch me all over; teasing my breasts and playing with my clit under the transparent excuse of helping me get clean. I decided that turnabout was fair play, and took his cock in hand under the pretext of helping him, stroking and pumping him until he was fully hard. I knelt on the floor of the shower, rinsing him clean of soap and taking him between my lips. Randall chuckled, letting me tease him with my mouth for several long moments. He pulled me up, lifting me up against the wall of the shower and thrusting up into my pussy hard and fast.

We managed somehow to finish our shower, in spite of the distraction, and Randall held me in his arms as we dried off, stroking me idly all over. We continued talking for a while, avoiding the awkward topic of what might come next between us. I reasoned that he didn’t want to prolong the association, in spite of his words about wishing he had days at his disposal. We kissed a few times, too satisfied for the moment to let it go further, and I told myself that it was just as well that there was nothing more than a one-night stand between us; I had broken up with my boyfriend literally moments before agreeing to the date, and everything that I had done since agreeing to Randall’s proposition had been totally out of character for me. It would be nice, I told myself, to get some sanity. In spite of my instinct that Randall didn’t want more than a fling, I noticed him maintaining the conversation, asking me more and more questions about myself. My whole body was still tingling from the multiple sessions of sex, and I thought that I would never look at a back massager the same way again.

Finally, Randall observed the lateness of the hour and suggested that we should make our exit. I agreed, feeling fatigue in spite of the incredible high of so many orgasms in one night. He kindly helped me dress, putting my bra on with caressing fingers and giving me a lingering kiss. It was growing more awkward by the moment; I was hoping that he would invite me to stay, in spite of thinking that it was for the best for us to part ways. Randall had been a wild hair, I told myself, a way to get my mind off of the fact that Matthew had been cheating on me—something to achieve revenge and solace with at the same time. We went downstairs and Randall told the front desk woman that we would not be staying, though he was happy to pay for the night. She glanced at my freshly-washed hair and whatever thoughts she might have had she kept to herself.

Randall got me a cab and pre-paid the fare to my house. When I asked if he wouldn’t rather share the car with me, he smiled and told me that he’d just call his driver, who was likely to be just around the corner waiting for him. I thanked him for dinner again and watched him disappear as the driver turned around on the busy street and headed back toward my house. I shifted in the seat, my bra curiously uncomfortable; I’d take that off as soon as I got home, I thought. The cab dropped me off at my house and I went inside, shaking my head at the strange turn my afternoon had taken. It had just gone dark and I was exhausted and more satisfied than I could have imagined. I wanted to feel sad about Matthew, but after such an intense orgasm I wasn’t even capable of it. I started to undress as soon as I closed and locked the front door behind me.

Chapter Three

I realized with a start why my bra had been so uncomfortable as I was taking it off; a card fell out, wafting onto the floor before my startled eyes. I bent over and picked it up. I had been so thoroughly out of it when Randall had been dressing me that I hadn’t even noticed him putting the card into my bra. I turned it over and looked at the fine embossed printing.
Randall Barksby, CEO Barksby Industries
, it read. I sat down on my bed, staring at it for a moment. He was wealthy certainly, but that wealthy? I shook my head, putting the card down on my bedside table and laughing. That was some trick to pull, I thought. I told myself it was a fake, that he was just trying to get one last little impressive move in on me.