Bartered Surrender: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 9 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (3 page)

His hands wove into my hair, pulling it back from my cheeks and holding my head still as he began to thrust his hips into my face. His cock slid down my throat, and it felt good, filling up the emptiness that had lived in me the month I had been gone. I trembled on my knees, knowing I was at his mercy, but instead of the thread of fear that had underpinned all our encounters so far, I felt safe. Warm and free, able to let myself go. I closed my eyes and reveled in the feel of his cock thrusting into my mouth. My breasts, bound with rope, bounced with his movements, and my pussy was hot and ready, my clit standing at attention and just begging to be played with.

Abruptly he pulled away and ran his hands through my hair, a soothing gesture turned erotic as he stroked his saliva-wet cock against my cheek, let the soft head caress my lips. Eagerly I opened my mouth for more, but he twisted, denying me, and I couldn't help but feel both disappointed and hopeful. My heart fluttered in my chest like a trapped butterfly.

“Stand,” he said.

Dizzy with desire, I climbed to my feet, far more difficult than kneeling down, and I stumbled. Anton reached out and caught me, and the feel of his large, warm hands supporting me filled me with a strange tenderness I couldn't describe. I swallowed and stood on my own two feet, and his hands fell away.

For a long moment, he took me in, standing bound before him. Then he stepped in and placed a sweet kiss at the center of my forehead. I closed my eyes.

Gently he turned me around and guided me back to the bed, helping me climb on. The rope chafed against my skin, rubbing over my pussy lips as I walked, and when at last he pushed me down on my knees and face, exposing my pussy to him, I wanted to cry with need. My neglected cunt ached for him, and I quivered in anticipation of his entrance.

But he didn't.

“Beautiful,” he murmured from behind me. I heard his clothes rustle, and I peeked between my legs to see him kneeling on the floor so his face was inches from my pulsing pussy. It was the middle of the afternoon, and there was no darkness for me to hide in. I was completely exposed.

Abruptly he stood and rounded the bed, coming to the other side, shedding clothes as he did so. When at last he climbed into the bed and joined me he was completely nude. I itched to touch his heated skin, run my fingers over him, but he knew his stuff. The more I tugged at my bonds, the tighter they held.

He settled down on the bed next to me and began to run his hands over my skin. I sighed and squirmed under his touch as he stroked his fingertips down my back, over my arms, dipping over the curve of my waist to brush against my stomach.

“Do you have any fantasies, Felicia?” he asked me.

I blinked, too desire-drugged to make sense of what he was asking me. “What?” I said.

He smiled, a real, genuine smile. “Are there any fantasies you have?” he asked again. “Anything you would like for me to make come true?”

I bit my lip and tried to think through the pounding of blood in my head. What did I truly desire with Anton? What did I truly want him to do to me?

I shook my head. “I have no fantasies,” I said. “I'm just happy to be here.” And I smiled at myself, at my own need. How little it took to make me happy. I just wanted to be with him, to grow with him.

For a long moment he said nothing, merely played idly with my nipples, gently stoking the fire inside my belly as he let his hand wander where it would. I wondered if he were trying to get me to fill up the silence, as if he thought I had been hiding something, but it had been true. Besides, Anton was way better at dreaming up new things to do than I was. I waited patiently for him to use me for his pleasure.

“Sit up,” he said at last, withdrawing his hand. I did so, struggling back onto my knees without the help of my bound hands. Between my legs, my pussy was soaking wet, hot and sticky. I surreptitiously rubbed it over my heels, which did nothing to ease my almost-painful arousal and only got my feet sticky as well as the inside of my thighs.

Anton rose to his knees, running his hands over my body. Gently he tugged at the ropes binding me. No matter where he plucked, every other place where the ropes touched my skin became erotically charged. He manipulated me like a marionette, and by the time he untied the securing knot and slid the ropes from me I was panting and painfully aroused. Ropes snaked over my skin as he untied me, until I was free and wild.

Reaching out, Anton slid his arms around me and pulled me close. His skin on mine electrified me, and when his cock probed my belly I thought I would collapse. Softly, he kissed me, first on the forehead, then the cheeks and finally on my lips, a gentle, nibbling caress. His huge warm hands spread out over my back, pulling me close. My breasts rubbed over his chest, my nipples points of fire as I wrapped my arms around his neck and moved my body against his, restless and needy.

Abruptly he pulled back and lay down on the bed, stretching his arms over his head, laying his magnificent body out before me like a banquet. The hard planes and sharp valleys invited my fingers, called to my mouth. I wanted to taste every inch of him. His cock jutted up from his crotch, his balls high and tight, as though he were about to come at any second.

“Fuck me, Felicia,” he said.

I stared at him. Did... did he mean it?

“You... you'd be all right with that?” I asked him. He would truly give me control?

His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, and I could see how difficult this was, but he remained immobile, spread out against the sheets. His breath came hard and fast. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “Fuck me, Felicia. Climb on top of me and use me. I want to see you come as you ride me.”

Oh my god,
I thought. I'd never been in charge. Only a few times had I stolen control from him, and he'd never reacted well.

“Trixie,” I said.

He blinked. “What?” he said.

“Trixie. Our safeword.”

Anton frowned, puzzled. He hesitated for a second. “Why? Are you... are you not comfortable taking control?”

I sat down next to him. “I want to make sure
you
are. And I really mean it. You don't...” I waved my hand. “You don't have to do this.”

His shoulders, tense, relaxed almost imperceptibly. Reaching out, he cupped my face in his hand, running his fingers over my throat, smoothing his thumb against my jaw. The gesture was so tender, so sweet... it summoned a tightness in my chest and a lump in my throat.

Don't cry, you big sop,
I told myself. There are probably few bigger turnoffs than a crying wife. I mean... someone's into it, I'm sure, but I didn't want to risk it. I touched his hand with mine, warmth spreading out over my skin. “Are you sure?”

That faint Buddha smile again, but this time I knew it was genuine. “I trust you,” he said.

My heart cracked a bit, sending something sweet and sad through me, but I shoved it away. This was it. This would make or break us.

I swung my leg over him and straddled his thighs. Between my legs his cock stood straight and straining, pulsing slightly with the beat of his heart. I reached out and ran my fingers over it, feeling the velvety skin slide over the steel hidden inside. He hissed between his teeth, his hips jerking a little, but he held still. Leaning down, I put my lips to his cock and bathed it with my tongue.

His breathing became faster and faster, the muscles of his thighs tensing and releasing as I worked his erection. The sweet taste of precum curled in my mouth as I ran my lips over the soft head. Reaching down, I cupped his balls in my hand, weighing them, feeling them tighten as I put his cock in my mouth.

“God, Felicia,” he ground out, “if you don't stop that this is going to be over quickly.”

I glanced at him and gave him a coy smile. “Did you miss me so badly you didn't even touch yourself?” I asked him. “Jacking off just couldn't compare?”

“Yes,” he said.

“You got it bad,” I said, impressed. I have never known a guy who could go more than a few days without jacking it.

“Probably,” he said, the word ending in a groan when I sucked his balls into my mouth. Not wanting to waste a good hard cock, I abandoned my oral practice and moved up, dragging my wet pussy up his leg. His breath was ragged when I finally angled the lips of my cunt over his erection and soaked him with my juices in preparation.

“Are you ready?” I asked him as I braced my hands on his hips.

“Yes,” he said.

I pushed him inside.

Oh, god, it felt
good.
Amazing. Better than amazing. The tension in my body immediately released as he slipped inside me with a stretching sensation that bordered on pain. My head lolled on my limp neck as I sank down onto his cock, my heart hammering in my chest, my pussy already clenching around him in anticipation of my next orgasm. Moving a hand from his hip, I stroked it over my clit in small, tight circles, my slippery fingertip sending waves of pleasure out over my body, spiraling through my loosening thighs. Just having him inside me was almost enough to make me come.

For a long moment I sat impaled upon him and shuddered. He overwhelmed me, flooded my senses until I couldn't think any more. “Anton,” I said at last. “Anton, please. Please, just fuck me. I can't take it.”

He didn't need a second invitation. As soon as the words were out of my mouth he had me flipped over on my back, hiking my legs up over his shoulders as he grabbed the sheets and wound them around my upper body, trapping me as though I were in a straightjacket. I shrieked as he pulled out and thrust his cock deep into my pussy, pushing hard. Fireworks exploded in my head, and I caught fire like a barren field too long without rain. “Fuck!” I cried. “Oh, Anton, please, please,
please—”

“Felicia,” he grunted, his iron control fraying at the edges, a sure sign I was getting to him. I moaned and writhed, bucking against him as he pounded into me. My pussy gripped his cock, the tight waves of my release already building inside my belly. I needed him to come in me. I had to have him, all of him, I had to be his again.

“Fill me up,” I begged. “Fill me up. I need you.”

“Jesus,”
he said, a prayer or a curse, it didn't matter, only that he shuddered with pleasure, rocking back on his heels and bringing my legs together as he pumped his hips, his cock sliding in and out of my slick pussy. Reaching down he snaked a finger between my thighs and rubbed my clit, quick and sharp, and I came with a howl. My back arched and I rolled where I lay, my entire being rocked with the strength of my release.

His cock pumped in and out of my pussy as I came, his fingers digging into my flesh. His teeth found my calf and he bit me, drawing my pleasure out until I thought I would die.

“Come in me,” I said. “Please.”

He dragged his fingers over my clit again and my body locked down on his cock, and then he came, pumping hard into me, filling me up. It leaked out of my pussy, the scent filling my nose, filling my head, and when he was spent he withdrew and went down on me, licking up his own cum, painting it onto my thighs and pussy lips and clit with his own tongue.

We fucked long and hard. Anton made me come over and over, until I was so exhausted I fell asleep.

I awoke to him kissing me in the dark, the night having descended. Sleepily I responded, enjoying the hedonistic feel of his skin against mine. He stopped kissing me for a moment.

“Your work of art was a success,” he murmured. “Just so you know.”

I grinned at him. “I know that. I'm here, aren't I? That means it worked.”

Running a hand over my face, he returned the smile. “I guess it did,” he said. “But everyone is talking about it. I checked while you were asleep. You'll have the run of every gallery in the city after today.”

I flushed with pride. “You think so?”

“The pictures are everywhere. I don't think there's a single person who doesn't like it. Though some did have something to say about where you put it...”

A giggle escaped me. “How else was I supposed to get your attention?”

“Call?”

“Oh, please.”

“You're right. It was... a grand gesture. And I must say you make a magnificent tiger.”

I blinked, then leaned back, frowning at him. “You mean I sculpt a good tiger?” I asked him.

“No, I mean you look wonderful as a tiger.”

For a long moment, I was utterly speechless. “What are you talking about?”

In the dim light I could practically feel the puzzlement radiating from him. “You said the sculpture was us, remember? Was that wrong?”

“Noooo,” I said slowly. “But I'm not the tiger.
You
are.”

Surprise touched his features. “Me?” he said. “I thought I was the rabbit.”

An extremely ugly snort burst out of me. “Oh yeah? How could you possibly be the rabbit?”

He shook his head. “There's so much to you. I thought...” For the first time, I saw a blush tinge his cheeks. It must have been a powerful one for me to see in the dark. He was
embarrassed
. “I thought you wanted me to free you. From...” He shrugged. “From all those things in your past that keeps you weighed down. Your parents. Your distrust. Your fears... Didn't you?”

If I hadn't known just how thick he was when it came to understanding people already, I would have slapped him. “No, you idiot,
I
want to free
you
.”

“I'm the tiger?” He looked astonished. “That's how you see me?”

“Of course.”

“But... I'm so...” He swallowed hard. His hands began to move, smoothing over my back, up and down my arms, warm and sweet and shivery. “I'm a coward. When it comes to you, I'm a coward.”

I smiled and closed my eyes. “You don't have to be afraid,” I said. “Don't be afraid of me. I'm only a rabbit. The worst I'll do is hump your foot to death.”

“Which one?”

“The right.”

“That's only my second favorite foot,” he said. “It's probably worth it to keep you around.” He kissed me and I laughed into his mouth, and then we were tangled together again, striving and straining, and we fucked like rabbits, fucked like tigers, made love like wild things until at last we fell asleep, entwined in the early gray light as the world turned toward a new day.