One Night With My Billionaire Master (10 page)

He’ll make me list my transgressions. Sweat trickles down my spine. I know I’ll forget something, disappoint him yet again.

“I didn’t answer your question directly, sir, when you asked me if I was a good girl.” I mention my most recent fuck-up first.

He tips his head, acknowledging my admission.

I can do this. “I sat beside you when I didn’t deserve to. I laughed when Benoit admired your ass, disrespecting you in public.” My misdemeanors pour out of my mouth. “I--”

“Stop.” Logan raises his right hand. “You know what I want to hear.”

“I do, sir.” I drop my gaze, unable to look at him, to see his disappointment, his anger. “I disobeyed you, sir,” I mumble. “You told me to wait for you, and I didn’t.”

“Why did I tell you to wait?”

“You wanted to protect me, sir.” My voice is small.

“You knew that was my goal, yet you still disobeyed me.” Logan’s words whip my fragile heart, his disappointment causing me more pain than any physical punishment ever could. “Your family hurt you. I saw the anguish in your eyes when I entered the boardroom and that displeased me. Very much.”

Oh, God. I hang my head, ashamed.

“You’re a clever, powerful woman, pet. Why did you deliberately put yourself in a position where you could be harmed?”

“I wasn’t thinking of myself, sir,” I plead, wanting him to understand, to not question my competence. “I was trying to protect you.”

His eyes blaze, my explanation escalating rather than easing his fury. “Because you believed I couldn’t protect myself, couldn’t protect you.” He shakes with fierce emotion, his ironclad control slipping. “You thought your master was weak.”

“No, sir.” I lift my chin, alarmed that he thinks I doubt his abilities or his character. “You’re the strongest man I’ve ever met, the only person I completely trust.”

“You trust me?” Logan thunders, his fingers folding into tight fists, his knuckles whitening. “After I failed to protect you? Our enemies hurt you, humiliated you, thinking I wouldn’t care, wouldn’t seek revenge. You’re mine, pet, and they harmed you.”

He’s not angry with me. He’s upset with himself, blaming himself for a situation no one could have foreseen. “Our enemies didn’t realize I was yours, sir,” I reply softly, wishing to ease his guilt. “That was my fault. I asked you to keep our relationship secret.”

“You asked.” His shoulders lower a fraction of an inch. “But I should have denied your request. I’m your master. It is my place to decide what is right for you. I should have claimed you publicly, left no doubt that you’re under my protection.”

“You’ve claimed me publicly now, sir.” I gaze at him, not hiding my love, my faith in him, my trust.

“That’s true.” Logan uncurls his fingers one by one. “Our relationship isn’t a secret any longer.” His gaze sweeps over my face, my breasts, my hips. “Everyone knows you belong to me.” His eyes gleam with a primitive satisfaction.

I smile at him. “No one would dare to hurt me now, sir.”

“Yes, pet. Only I have that right.”

My smile fades. He hasn’t forgotten my punishment. I wait for his next command. Logan gazes at me, not saying anything more, his emotions shielded.

Seconds stretch into minutes. I sit on my heels, remaining in position, while he studies me, debating my fate. My arms and legs ache. My chest rises and falls, my breasts bare, my nipples taut, aching for his fingers, his rough touch.

I’m a clever, powerful woman, I silently repeat Logan’s words. I can take any chastisement he assigns me. He turns his wrists, revealing his creased calloused palms. What would those hands feel like on my ass? He splays his thick fingers and my lips part, my breathing growing ragged.

“What are you thinking about, pet?”

“Your hands on my ass,” I answer without thinking. I then realize what I’ve said and my face heats. “I was reflecting on my bad behavior, sir.” I attempt to sound contrite.

His eyes glow, gold sparks warming his brown irises. “You’ll reflect over my lap.” He rubs his hands over his pants-clad thighs. “Lift your skirt and lie across my legs, pet. Your bad behavior has earned you a spanking.”

My breath hitches, my pussy growing damp. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter Six

If I crave a spanking, is it truly a punishment? I shimmy my skirt up to my waist, the cool air in the limousine caressing my skin. Logan watches me, an indulgent expression on his angular face.

As I reveal my black G-string panties, the panties he supplied, his smile fades. “Remove them. When we’re alone, you’re to be bare under your skirts, your pussy and ass available for fucking at any time.”

“Yes, sir.” I pull the skimpy scrap of silk down my thighs, over my knees, slipping them off my shod feet, feeling a sense of accomplishment that I’m able to do this without standing.

I’m now naked except for the high heels on my feet, the sky blue skirt gathered around my waist and the black bra pushed under my breasts. My breasts, hips, and cleanly-shaven mons are uncovered.

I kneel before my master, my hands clasped behind my back, my legs tucked under me, allowing him to see everything—my pale curves tipped with rose-colored hardness, my pink pussy lips. There’s no hiding the flush of my skin, the drops of moisture glistening on my folds. He’ll know I want this, need this.

He might not be the only one witnessing my shame. The partition is open. If his driver turns his head, he’ll view my body, my eagerness.

“Come, pet.” My billionaire master taps his fingers against his knees. “You’ve earned four reprimands. If I have to wait much longer to discipline you, that amount will double.”

Sweet mother. I struggle to my feet, teetering on my heels, determined not to use my hands. In the BDSM videos, the subs gracefully rise, their movements steady, sure, beautiful. I’m one bump in the road away from falling face first into my master’s lap.

My master’s hard lap. My gaze drops to his groin.

“Pet,” Logan barks.

My spine snaps straight. I hurry to his side and slowly lower myself onto his legs. He moves my hands to his thighs and shifts my body until my ass is raised in the air. My nipples rub against the decadently soft fabric of his pants and I moan, the friction delightful.

“Focus.” He slaps my ass and I jerk, shocked, aroused, relieved. I can do this. The pain is bearable.

“One,” I dutifully count, proud of myself for remembering this part. “Thank you, sir.” One down. Three more to go.

My master’s body shakes. “Don’t thank me yet, pet.” He rubs his rough hands over my tender skin, prolonging the burn. “I haven’t started disciplining you.”

Oh God. That was a warm up swat. He lifts his hands. I wait and wait and wait, clutching his legs. Moments pass. I start to relax.

He cuffs me, hard, the smack of skin against skin ringing through the vehicle. I yelp, jolted by the impact, agony radiating from my left ass cheek.

“One,” I whimper, silently cursing him, myself, the world. “Thank you, sir.” You sadistic bastard.

My eyes sting with unshed tears, while moisture bathes my inner thighs, the pain perversely turning me on. I’m a sick woman, getting off on this spanking.

“This hurts me also, pet.” Logan shows me his reddened palm. “As it should.” His chest heaves. He’s thinking about his failure to protect me, blaming himself for the fake sex tape.

“We’re strong, sir,” I remind him, concentrating on him, and not on my inflamed skin. “We’ll survive this.”

“We will.” His hand lands heavily on my other ass cheek and my spine bows.

Fuck. “Two,” I count through gritted teeth. “Thank you, sir.” A teardrop trickles down my right cheek, pooling in the seam of my lips.

“Such a pretty pink ass.” Logan sweeps his hands over my hot skin. “Spread your legs for me, pet.”

I obey his command, knowing he’ll see my shameful arousal. He slides his fingers over my intimate folds, circles my clit, stimulating my already humming body.

“You’re dripping for me.” He spreads my pussy juices across my ass. My musk tickles my nostrils, my scent surrounding us.

I’d be more embarrassed about this growing need if he wasn’t also turned on. His cock strains against the zipper of his dress pants, the ridge pressing snugly against my side.

I don’t dare touch him, not having earned that right. If—

He swats my left ass cheek for the second time and I cry out, this agony even more intense, waves of sweet pain flowing over my body, chased by a strange euphoria.

“Three.” I float, detaching from the physical, from everything except him. “Thank you, sir.” Wetness coats my cheeks. I hold onto his legs, anchoring myself to him.

“One more, my sensitive pet.” Humor lightens his voice. “Stay with me.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply dreamily.

His hand cracks across my ass and I scream, lifting, throwing myself into this last reprimand, embracing my punishment. “Exquisite,” he murmurs, squeezing my abused flesh. I writhe. Logan doesn’t release me, the pinch of his fingers prolonging my euphoria, and I warm all over, my arms and legs trembling.

“I need to be inside you, pet.” He draws my limp form upright, jostling me as he unzips his pants, yanks down the material. A dab of pre-cum glistens on his tip.

He lifts me over him. I reach under my body, position him at my entrance, and he lowers me. “Ohhh….” I moan, his long thick cock surging upward into me, his broad tip rubbing along my inner walls. He’s inside and around me. My nipples caress his suit jacket, my billionaire remaining dressed from the waist up, his silk tie tightly knotted.

As the erotic slide of pussy lips over rigid shaft ends, I sit, straddling my demanding man, and our gazes meet, lock. Hot, heavy emotion swirls between us, thick enough to feel, to taste. We’re connected physically, emotionally, spiritually. I touch his cheek, his tanned skin firm and warm and right. This is where I’m meant to be, with him.

“Arianna,” he murmurs as he leans forward. In this rare moment, we’re not master and pet, Dom and sub. I meet him halfway and he covers my lips with his. Neither of us lead or follow, command or obey. We’re one, moving in unison, sharing control.

I open to him and our tongues glide, dip, dance. He grips my hips and I rock to the rhythm of our hearts, my ass burning, my pleasure edged with the pain I need, I want.

I savor this gentle loving, a rest between bouts of breathtaking ecstasy, allowing my passion to slowly build. My dominant billionaire isn’t as patient as I am, dragging his hot mouth over my neck, nipping at my skin with his teeth, his large form shifting restlessly under me.

My lips curl upward. Logan won’t surrender his power for much longer, his desire to commandeer both our fuckfest and my soul, riding him hard. Even now, he kneads my aching ass, coaxing me to move. I obediently rise up on my knees and fall.

It isn’t enough. Having caught my breath, I want to lose it again, but I can’t do this alone. I’m too small to take him deeply.

“Sir?” I plead with my eyes, wanting his darkness, his control, craving his strong hands, crude instructions, the reassurance of his authority.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect for me.” Logan flips me onto my back. My ass connects with the cool leather seat, the agony exquisite, and he covers my lips, swallowing my scream.

My billionaire master powers into me with long, hard thrusts, using me hard, gripping my shoulders to hold me in place, forcing me to take everything he gives me. I suck on his tongue. He knows his sub is strong, his equal.

Our hips and chests smack together, the impact heating my skin. I bend my knees and lift into each drive forward, fucking him as fiercely as he fucks me. Sweat beads on his tanned skin, glistens in his black hair. His eyes are dark and excitingly wild.

I hang on to the lapels of his jacket, my nipples, pussy, every part of me humming, throbbing, gloriously alive. He needs this and he needs me. Only I can give him this loyalty, strength, subservience, and he acknowledges my gift, grunting my name into my mouth.

A drop of perspiration trickles down his neck, following a raised vein. I lick this trail, tasting the salt of his skin, and he growls, the animalistic sound exciting me, his blood pumping against my tongue.

He’s close, as am I . Tremors roll over my body, growing in intensity with each thrust of his hips. My pussy constricts around his shaft, my juices oozing between his balls, wetting his private curls, branding him with my scent. Everyone will know this magnificent man is mine. I thread my fingers though his thick hair, carve my nails into his scalp.

“Arms above your head,” he orders.

“But--”

His eyes flash a warning.

Shit. I stretch my arms upward, touching the wall of the limousine. This position arches my back, thrusting my bare breasts upward.

“Keep them there.” He drives his cock into my pussy, shaking my body. I moan, unable to move, to escape his passionate assault. It requires all of my willpower not to come.

Logan, my demanding master, expresses no sympathy for his pet. He expects me to follow his rules, to delay my release until he gives me permission, and I’m determined not to disappoint him.

This is hard, damn hard. He thrusts again and again, taking me relentlessly, the slap, slap, slap of my ass against the seat obscenely loud. I pant, the air pushed from my lungs, his large form pressing down on me.

He’s bigger, stronger, more powerful. There’s no question he owns me, can do with me as he wishes. And I love it, reveling in my submission, giving him everything he wants, everything he needs.

If only he’d grant me authorization to come. I press my lips together, trying to delay my release, seeking to earn his approval. My arms and legs shake. My teeth clatter.

He swivels his hips, grinding into my clit. Oh, God. I stare up at him, panicking, not knowing if I can stave off my satisfaction.
Please say I can come,
I silently beg.

“Soon, pet,” he huffs, reading my mind, my desperation tangible. His shaft swells, his balls drawing up tight against his base, his tempo growing erratic.

I whimper, my mind splintered.

“Two more,” Logan reassures me. “Count.” He thrusts.

“One.” My voice is thin, my pitch high. I can hold on. I can.