Billionaire Kink (2 page)

Chapter Two

I spent a sleepless night, tossing
and turning, my mind playing out strange and disturbing images of what I
thought Mr. Gordon would require of me. In all the scenarios, I pictured myself
mistreated and humiliated. I had never had sex with a woman before, nor did I
fantasize about them. The thought of sleeping with more than one man at a time
and possibly being gagged and bound was horrifying.

I’m not cut out for this.

By the time I sat down to my first
cup of coffee, I had made up my mind. There was no way in hell I was going to do
this. I would have to obtain the funding from another company. My mother would
roll over in her grave if she knew I was even considering such perversions.

My cell buzzed. “Hello?”

“Gretchen?”

“Emily?”

“Oh, thank God. I’ve been trying to
call you all night.”

I knew by the tone in her voice that
something was wrong. “What happened?”

“We’ve had rain for a week. There was
a flood,
Gretch
. We had to evacuate.”

“Are you all right? Are the patients
okay?”

“Yes, but the clinic’s gone. The
supplies are gone. I grabbed some medicine, but…shit…everything’s down river.”

“Oh, my God.” We didn’t have insurance
for this. “Emily.”

“I think I’m done,” she cried. “It’s
over.”

James Gordon would pay for a new
clinic, if I agreed to be his sex toy. I had no choice now. “I’ll wire you what’s
left in the trust,
Em
. I found a benefactor. It’s
gonna be okay.”

“You have?”

“I worked out a deal with JSG
Bioport
Labs yesterday.”

“Gretchen! That’s fantastic. Oh,
thank the Lord.”

“You’ll be all right. You’ll be able
to rebuild. I’ll send you everything you need.”

“You’re so awesome,
Gretch
. I owe you big time.”

You have no idea what I’ll have to do to fix this.
“Let me make a few calls.”

“You’re the best. I love you, sis.”

“Love you too.”

I was on the phone all morning
arranging the shipment of supplies and medication. I signed Mr. Gordon’s
“business” proposal and faxed it to his office. Within an hour, I received the
transfer of a significant amount of money. The efforts to rebuild the clinic in
Honduras took up most of my time that week. I also found the perfect location
for the Family Free clinic in Chicago. I hoped to open it by the end of the
month. I relied on the help of volunteer doctors and nurses, who would generously
donate their time and expertise. I would have to hire two full-time nurses to
oversee the center and manage the patients. By the second week, the Honduran
clinic was up and running again, and the space I rented in the Lakeview West
area was being renovated. I’d almost forgotten about my “business agreement”
with Mr. Gordon, until I received a text message with the time and address of
our first rendezvous. He was sending a car, and I had to rush to get ready, while
nervous twinges of anticipation coursed through me.

I paused several times that day
questioning the sanity of this scheme and the sexual proclivities of the
ultra-wealthy. From what I understood, I would not have any physical contact
with Mr. Gordon at all. He would observe the events as a spectator, while filming
the deeds for posterity. I had been assured that only Mr. Gordon would view the
tape, as he was the legal custodian of the property. This relieved me…somewhat.

My phone buzzed, distracting me from
my troubling thoughts. The car was waiting. I grabbed my handbag and left the
apartment. A sleek, black limousine was parked out front. A liveried chauffeur
held open the door for me, and, as we pulled from the curb, I realized it was
too late to turn back. The soaring skyscrapers of the city grew smaller by the
mile, while the greenness of the Lake Bluff area came into view. We passed a
quaint village with storefront shops and cafes. I had spent time at Sunrise
beach when I was a student at Chicago State, and I had once been engaged to a
man whose family owned a pretty Queen Ann Victorian three blocks from the shore.

The chauffeur hadn’t spoken one word
to me. He directed the car into a secluded driveway, surrounded by a canopy of
trees, which all but hid a modest residence. The red brick, two-story structure
waited at the end of the drive, appearing as ordinary and innocuous as any
home.
Did you think they’d have a sign
out front that said, wild, kinky sex inside?
I exited the vehicle, avoiding
eye contact with the driver. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I headed for the
entranceway, but I had been expected, and the door opened, revealing a
middle-aged woman with graying hair and an agreeable smile.

“Welcome, Ms. Fox.”

“Hi.”

Although I had read the contract
fifty times over, I still feared something horrible would happen to me. I was,
after all, placing myself in a stranger’s hands to do with as he pleased. I
worried that Mr. Gordon was a sadist or worse and that I would possibly be
subjected to sexual torture, although the contract specifically stated this
would not occur. I had the right to object to any sex act, and it would stop
immediately.

“This way, please.” The vaulted
interior revealed wooden floors, cream-colored walls, and sparse furniture. I
followed the woman up a curving staircase. She opened a door, exposing a large
bedroom. “Here you are. The bathroom is to your right. Mr. Gordon will be with
you shortly.”

“Thank you.” The door closed behind
her, leaving me alone. The bed, with its brass headboard and beige quilt, would
be the scene of unknown depravity. This is where I would…perform for the
mysterious billionaire. I stepped out of my shoes and undid my jeans, lowering
the material down my legs. I placed the clothing over a nearby chair.
Remembering the surveillance camera, I stiffened, feeling violated.

Am I being watched right now?

I removed my bra and panties quickly and
threw the robe on. I stared at the ceiling, searching for a camera. Paranoia
took over, and I began to stalk around the room, investigating every nook and
cranny, looking for little black holes.

“Have you lost something?”

I spun around to find Mr. Gordon,
dressed impeccably in a dark gray suit and tie. “Um, no.”

“I think I know what you’re searching
for.” His look was vaguely detached, yet amused. “It’s here.” He walked to a
shelf across the room and pointed at a small opening in the wood.

“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?