Bartered Submission: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (4 page)

I heard him move behind me, and then his warm, thick
fingers were working their way between my thighs, cupping my sex.
He stroked his index finger up my slit and I moaned.

“Ask.”

Fuck. How can I think about anything but
this?
I fought through
the fog of arousal.

“Who raised you?”

His hand on me stilled, and I knew I had struck
something inside him.

He retreated, and I wanted to bite my tongue off.
Rustling came from behind me and curiosity burned a hole through my
head, but I didn't dare look at him. I knew instinctively that I
had pushed him further than he was willing to go.

Something cool and leather slipped around my throat,
then tightened and I inhaled sharply.

A collar.

He'd collared me like a dog.

I guess he
could
have a dog and fuck it, too. God
dammit.

The snap of a clip closing, and a sinuous slither of
leather caressed my back. Then he tugged on the leash, and I felt a
dark wave of pleasure swell up inside.

“
I
raised me, Felicia,” he whispered. “And I think we are at
the end of our questions for today.”

It didn't matter. I couldn't breathe. The collar
around my throat seemed to be directly connected to the pleasure
center of my brain. My pussy heated and quivered, knowing I was at
his mercy. Almost lazily, he dipped a finger inside me, and I
clenched around it, aching for him to fill me.

A sudden buzz sounded through the room, and I
started, suddenly brought out of the spell Anton had cast over me.
Behind me and in me, Anton froze at the sound, then began to move
his hand again, crooking his finger and stroking it against my
upper walls. My toes curled and my arms collapsed beneath me.

“Just the doorbell,” he said softly as I pressed my
forehead to the wood floor, panting.

The buzz came again.

Clearly determined to ignore it, Anton slipped
another finger inside me. He scissored his fingers, pressing
against my walls, opening me, preparing me for his invasion. I
ached, wet and hot for him, every nerve alive.

A third buzz.

Anton stiffened, then, to my despair, he withdrew. I
heard him stand.

“Stay there,” he commanded. “If I find you have moved
while I was out of the room, you will be punished.”

Punished. I liked the sound of that. Wait, no I
didn't.

Yes, I did.

Damn Anton and his magic cock.

I watched from my position on the floor as he
strolled at a leisurely pace out of the room. I heard him descend
the stairs. Below us, I knew, he kept an office. I was betting he
had a camera set up there to see who was calling.

What would he do when he came back? Would he take me
from behind? Would he lead me around like a dog? Would I like
it?

Oh, who was I kidding? I knew I would. I could say no
any time I wanted to. I just hadn't reached that point yet. Anton
took me places I never knew existed.

My pussy pulsed and I had to fight to keep my hands
on the wood floor next to my face. I was certain moving to ease the
pleasurable pain he had inspired was against the rules.

Then again, I
was
a
bit curious about that punishment...

I never got a chance to try it out, because the
buzzer of the doorbell sounded again, and this time it didn't let
up.

Heavy feet stomped up the stairs, and when Anton
entered the room his face was murderous. Flipping a switch on the
wall, harsh light flooded the room, and I blinked.

“Get up,” he said. “Put some clothes on. We have a
visitor that we can't turn away.”

Confused, I did as he bade me. The touch of fabric to
my skin made me jumpy, but I did my best to make myself
presentable, though the seam of my jeans against my bare
slit—taking Anton's words to heart, I stuffed my panties in my
pocket—was almost too much to bear. When I was done, Anton removed
the collar and led me back down the stairs to the garden floor. The
doorbell was still buzzing. Whoever was ringing it was not to be
dissuaded easily.

Anton opened the door.

There on the steps stood a woman with long dark hair
and large dark eyes, in her mid-fifties. She was well-preserved,
but the last time I had seen her there had been more meat on her
bones. Her cheeks were thin, and she seemed lost inside the classic
pea coat I remembered her wearing ever since I was a little girl.
Behind her, my father hovered, looking older than ever.

Oops,
I thought. Word travels
really
fast.

“Felicia,” the woman said, and threw herself into my
arms and began to sob.

“Oh,” I said. “Hello, mother.”

* * *

To be continued in
Bartered Passion: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 6!

About the Author

Ava Lore was raised by
wombats and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing
erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic
romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.

Discover more titles by
Ava Lore at
Smashwords.com
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You can email Ava Lore at
[email protected]
.
She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans.
Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage?
Something entirely different? Let her know!

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Bartered
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Bartered
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Maddy
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