How to Seduce a Billionaire (34 page)

But, he’d offered her an experience. Something to add to her repertoire, so he’d better deliver on the act that he’d promised her.

He looked down into her eyes and, for a moment, she looked back, unfazed. But then, like the good submissive of fiction, she lowered her gaze. Respectfully? Well, a fair approximation of it. She was a damn good actress when she wanted to be. But he’d seen the sweet quirk of her lips just before she’d looked down.

‘You’re a very wayward submissive, Ms Lockhart. You don’t seem to have any respect for authority at all. I was going to allow you a glass of champagne before we started, to calm your nerves, but I’m not sure now that you deserve it.’

Goddamn, the bubbly wasn’t for her, it was for
him
!

She didn’t respond, or even move a muscle, standing there, a poem in blue. But he knew somehow that she would love a glass of champagne. In the brief time they’d been together, she’d taken quite a liking to it, and in a cool, melancholy moment, he resolved that when they parted, he would send her a case of whatever marque she preferred, on a regular basis.

Enough of that. The moment is now. There’s no future … and no past. Just us. Playing.

‘However, as I’m feeling magnanimous, I think we will have a little champagne, first, before I start touching you.’

At the word ‘touching’, she licked her lips, the she-devil, and Ellis fought for self-control. His cock was already like iron, pressing against the unforgiving fabric of his jeans. ‘Stay right where you are,’ he added, striding to the long, polished sideboard, where he’d placed the wine in a glass ice bucket, along with a couple of other items that he’d seen her glance at, noting them.

He filled a single flute with the pale golden fizz. It was the house champagne of the building, and though he’d always liked it, he wondered now if he’d short-changed Jess. Perhaps he should have ordered up a more luxurious brand for her? Something world famous and sought after? But she wasn’t like that. Celebrity labels meant nothing to her. She had higher values; true quality and worth were what interested her.

So why is she with me? She doesn’t give a toss about my money, and she knows I’m damaged goods …

Dismissing the thought, he brought the brimming flute back to where she stood, so slim and elegant. He took one sip himself, and then held it to her lips, cradling the back of her head as he did so. Letting her hands hang graceful and inert at her sides, she took a drink from the glass, a real one with obvious enjoyment, and cracked that tricky little imp of a smile again.

‘Good, eh?’ She nodded. ‘More?’ She nodded again.

He proffered the glass again, and she took another swallow. The game was supposed to be him watching her, him scrutinising her and controlling her, but she looked back at him levelly over the brim of the glass, eyes full of irrepressible challenge.

Taking back the glass, he drained it then returned it to the sideboard, his back almost burning from her subtle scrutiny. He was supposed to be in charge, but her hold over him was total. Running his hand along the edge of the polished wood, he breathed in deep, then selected an item from the surface.

His tie. The blue one he’d worn to the Palm Court. When he returned to her, with it stretched taut between his two hands, her eyes widened.

‘So, Miss Lockhart, are you ready to play?’

For a moment, she didn’t speak. Was she shaking? He certainly was. And fully erect too. For a moment her glance skittered to his groin, then she met his eyes again, her expression bold.

‘I’m yours to command … master. Whatever you wish is my wish.’

Good answer!

‘Let’s start with this then, shall we?’ He stepped behind her, and drew her hands together at the small of her back, securing them loosely with the tie. His cock leapt. She was bound. Her body available to him. She couldn’t stop him making free with her in any way he chose.

Plunging his hand into her silky hair, he held her face to his and kissed her hard, pushing in deep and rough with his tongue, tasting the wine on her tongue as she no doubt tasted it on his. He kept kissing, wildness rising as he plundered her mouth, gripping the back of her shapely scalp. A moan rose in his throat, and he almost thought he’d uttered it, until he realised that it was Jess who was moaning not he. She was shifting her hips too, as if so turned on that she couldn’t contain the energy.

‘So randy,’ he growled against her mouth, and with his free hand, he reached down and gripped her crotch, massaging her through her pretty blue skirt.

Jess gasped sharply. Ellis imagined the flutter of her aroused flesh, stirred by his hold. He squeezed hard and she struggled, rocking herself on his hand, moaning again.

He could almost imagine she was already coming.

Maybe she was?

Being bound made Jess dizzy with desire. She couldn’t explain why. It didn’t make sense. Normally she would have kicked against being in any man’s power. Even when she’d been a virgin, she’d valued her own sense of agency, and being subject to someone else’s will, man or woman, had never sat right with her.

But this was Ellis, and everything was different with him. And exciting in a way she could barely quantify. The urge to touch herself raged through her, amplified by the inability to do it. Her sex ached, and weird yearnings to do strange things wracked her body.

Crazy things like falling to her knees to kiss his feet. Kiss the scars of his long ago operation, as if to assuage the pain he’d once experienced. He was barefoot, as he so often went indoors, but no less dominant for that. Ellis McKenna didn’t need boots and leather to be her master. His mere presence ruled her world in this game. With his mouth so close, she pressed forward and stole another kiss.

‘Naughty, naughty, naughty,’ he whispered against her lips, and she could almost taste the laughter in his voice. This was piquant fun between the two of them. There would never be anything really heavy or cruel. He wasn’t like that. He wasn’t selfish.

‘I’m sorry, master,’ she replied, trying to keep her own voice straight and respectful.

Still close, he shook his head, as if despairing. ‘You mustn’t speak until I give you permission,
slave
,’ he pointed out, placing special emphasis on the noun, round and fruity. ‘Now, what do you want me to do with you? And this time, you
may
speak.’ Still gripping her aching crotch, his strong hand tightened, pressing her skirt against her.

Everything. I want you to do everything.

‘If it pleases you … I’d like you to touch me, and spank me, and fuck me, master. But only if it pleases you.’

‘But I’m already touching you …’ Squeeze, squeeze, squeeze … ‘Do you want more? Do you want me to touch your skin? Your sex … your naked sex?’

She couldn’t answer. It would have come out as a long moan of pleasure. The zone he’d named seemed to tingle, and leap … she was almost coming. Jess nodded her answer, unable to stop herself bearing down on his containing hand. The tie around her wrists seemed to amplify the sensations. She was fizzing and bubbling inside, like the champagne.

‘Very well, then,’ he said, ‘You shall have everything you want. But first … a final touch, I think. Stay right here.’

Jess kept still, even though her body was screaming for release. If her hands had been free, she might even have played with herself, and to hell with the consequences. Those consequences were what she wanted, after all.

Heart pounding, she watched her lover stroll to the sideboard and pick up the other item that had been lying there. With eyes only for Ellis, Jess hadn’t really fixed on it, but it’d been in the back of her mind all the same; a patterned silk scarf, decorated with some of Monet’s water lilies, unless she wasn’t mistaken.

Don’t be dumb, Jess … He’s going to use it as a blindfold, you ninny!

Ellis twirled the length of silk around his fingers, tensioning it as he had the tie, making Jess shudder harder. What would it feel like to be in the dark, not knowing what was coming next, what he was going to do to her? Waiting for the next touch. The next kiss. The first spank …

‘Will you mind being blindfolded?’ His voice was arch now, more English, his accent purer. Within the parameters of the game, she hadn’t much choice but to accede to him, and for a moment apprehension gripped her.

It was all new. The blindfold, the potential pain of the spanking, the reddened bottom. All new to her. Intriguing but alarming.

But then she relaxed. ‘No, I shan’t mind at all, master,’ she whispered, still not sure whether she was supposed to speak at this juncture.

She was safe with Ellis. She had no doubt about that. He might be closed off from romantic love by his loss, but his kindness and his humanity were unimpaired. His heart wasn’t arrogant, selfish, or controlling, and he would always put the well-being of a partner before his own needs, his own pleasure.

Even in their brief acquaintance, he’d proved that to her time and time again.

In a deft, quick move, he covered her eyes with the soft scarf. The silk was heavy gauge, and surprisingly dense, creating a velvet darkness. Disorientated for a moment, she swayed, and Ellis instantly supported her, letting her part her feet so she could stand more squarely.

‘Good girl,’ he said, right next to the side of her face, ruffling her hair, beneath the containing silk, with his breath. ‘Can you see anything?’

She shook her head.

‘Excellent …’ He paused. ‘But all of London, beyond the window, can see you. They can see how beautiful you are … how vulnerable … And they’ll see your gorgeous body, too, when I show it to them.’

Jess suppressed a ‘yeah, right’. On the balcony earlier in the day, she’d wondered whether people – across the river, or in another building, and in possession of strong binoculars or a telescope – could see into the apartment when it was lit. But on checking, she’d discovered the windows were privacy glass showing only a mirrored surface. There was no possibility of a voyeur observing their game.

But imagining a voyeur was fun. They’d done it before when playing at phone sex, and look how well that had turned out. She pictured a thousand watching eyes, avid for the show. The sight of herself and Ellis in performance. Her body exposed and played with. Deliciously tormented. Spanked and compelled to orgasm; most likely soundly fucked too.

Beneath her skirt, her sex rippled again, and the silky fluid of arousal welled from her cleft and trickled down her thigh.

‘Now, stay very quiet and still, while I prepare you.’

Jess licked her lips.

‘Wicked girl. You’ll pay for that.’ His thumb pressed down on her lower lip, then thrust inside her mouth. Instinctively she sucked on it. ‘And you’ll do that, too, I think, sooner or later.’

The vision of Ellis’s beautiful cock filled her mind. She saw herself on her knees, still bound, sucking furiously on it. Her mouth watered at the thought and she swallowed, almost as if gulping down his come.

Oh yeah!

And then his hands were gone, and she was left in the dark, aching and anticipating. The imaginary metropolitan audience watched hungrily, anticipating Ellis’s next move. Jess sensed steps … Oh, he was wily. Because he was barefoot, there was no way to hear him stomping about the room, and she wished for spider senses so she could tell where he was and what he was doing.

For a full minute, nothing happened, then just when she was about to crack and demand, where the hell are you, he touched her. Quick and deft, he unbuttoned her blouse, then pushed the fabric off her shoulders, to expose her bra.

‘Sublime.’ His voice was low as his flat hand settled on her chest above the lace and satin. His little finger slid beneath the edge of the fabric. ‘Your skin is very hot, slave. Are you burning for me?’

She nodded.

‘Good.’ Reaching around, he squeezed her buttock with his free hand, kneading the flesh. Still working her, he kissed her again, thrusting with his tongue.

Kiss. Squeeze. Breathe. The slither of narrow fingertips inside the cup of her bra, searching and finding her nipple.

‘Do you like that?’

‘Yes …’ she whispered, barely recognising her own voice.

‘Good,’ he repeated crisply, then released her. ‘Let’s find some more things you like.’

With no further ado, he snapped open the front clasp of her bra, baring her. Pausing only to play his fingers across her nipples, he reached down, grasped the hem of her slim skirt, and eased it up her thighs and up over her belly, tucking the cotton cloth at her waist.

‘What a beautiful sight. I’m sure the men in our “audience” are loving this. Gorgeous tits, lush pussy, perfect thighs … what more could they ask for?’

Jess moaned when he gripped her crotch again, this time with no barrier. Desire surged as he slipped a finger into her cleft and rocked it against her clit, still playing with her nipples with his free hand. Counterpoint …

‘Would you like an orgasm now?’

She nodded her head furiously. All resolve to hold out had evaporated.

‘I’ll spank you harder.’

‘I don’t care.’

Soft laughter was his only answer. That, and imperious attention to her clit. His touch was hard, wild, nowhere near as millimetre perfect as his usual subtlety, but Jess came almost immediately, shouting out, ‘Oh God,’ as her hips jerked and rocked, uncouthly thrusting. Still working her, Ellis flung his free arm around her waist, keeping her steady.

The orgasm was blinding, intense, going off like a rocket, too much yet too little, far too soon. Even though she’d climaxed, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. But when she tried to coax him into it, pushing against his hand, he whispered, ‘No, no, no, greedy girl. You have to wait now. You have to take your punishment first.’

In her mind’s eye, she saw him clearly. Her handsome, dazzling god, a prince of drama in his dark clothing. Merciless, he pinched and rolled her left nipple, tweaking and toying. Jess pursed her lips hard, fighting the groans, not sure whether they were of pleasure or pain, but wanting more, more, more … her voice escaped as Ellis’s fingers tightened on her, flattening her nipple and sending streaks of sensation along secret pathways to her clit.