Read In Service To The Billionaire Online
Authors: Heather Chase
“I
love
my Master's seed,” she purred. “Take me again?”
Of course, he did.
Chapter 15
Sophia had no idea life could be so good.
All day Sunday, they had dreamy, hot, perfect sex in every room of his expansive condo. He was relentless, tireless, taking her again and again to the point where even walking from room to room was excessive, as he was just going to be pushing her down to fuck her anyway.
Unless, that is, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall—which happened more than once. The time spent in between fucking revolved mostly around her sucking, licking, and kissing his cock—even while he ate prepackaged meals from the fridge. He suggested at several intervals that soon, she would be doing all the cooking and preparing of meals for him. She liked that idea just fine.
Later in the day, before fucking each other to sleep, they made a vow not to fuck at the office the next day.
Sophia, however, was never too partial to the idea. He was a billionaire, and he owned the building that everyone worked in. So what if he got caught fucking? What were they going to do about it? Was he going to fire her?
So, she came in to work every day that week dressed as sexily as ever, exclusively wearing the outfits that she had bought just for him.
On Monday, this meant a tiny blue silk dress complete with expensive tights and gray suede knee-high boots. She didn't even bother to wear a sweater to cover up.
Men stared. She enjoyed it, knowing that meant her Master would stare even more. It was hot for her now, not being able to know—due to the nature of his opaque office—when he was looking at her, stroking his cock with his pants down. She liked to think he was doing it all the time.
As much as she could, she lingered at his desk when she delivered him papers, finding excuses to bend over so he could see her illustrious cleavage, or kneel down on the ground in search of crumbs that didn’t exist.
In the afternoon, she mentioned offhand while delivering coffee that she needed to remember to make her student loan payments. He asked how much they were—and then informed her that he was going to take care of them. All of them. In one payment.
More weight off her shoulders from him—and more secure in the same stroke. Her heart swelled with admiration. She promised herself that she would suck his cock for an hour later that night—a promise that she kept.
At the end of the day, of course, she still went and visited Elle in the hospital—who was recovering more and more by the day, her bruises fading and all the movement and strength fast returning to her injured shoulder. Her dance career, while delayed for maybe a month or two while she got back up to full strength, was not in jeopardy.
It was fun to see all the folks in the hospital's eyes light up as Sophia walked by in her hot, daring little outfits. She liked to think that the higher her hemlines went, the more the
After another full round of tiny dresses, high heels, and sexy walks and bends on Tuesday, she finally managed to convince him to break his no-fucking rule on Wednesday.
Late in the evening, after everyone else had already left, he had a conference call with business partners overseas in Japan. So the only people left in the entire office, and probably the building, were the two of them.
Seeing her enter, he shook his hand, gesturing for her to leave.
She complied with a smile, knowing that she was going to wow him in just a moment.
Right outside his office—not bothering to go the bathroom with the floor so empty—she changed. If he turned forward from behind his desk, he would be able to watch her sexy, lithe body sliding into her over-sexified office outfit. She put on a shiny golden silk blouse, two sizes too small, not even beginning to approach her sexy bare midriff and unable to button at all over the hot skin of her bronze braless tits.
Fishnet stockings with white bows at the back of her sexy tanned thighs covered her perfect legs. Her skirt, pleated and tiny and dark, did nothing to hide the sexy shape of her body.
She stepped inside the office, strutting for the half the distance, as was her ritual, and then crawling for the rest of it.
Sand took a long while to notice her. “Yes, we’ll have those in place by the end of the quarter, and...”
He drifted off, finally seeing her approaching, crawling form. She poured herself between his legs, looking up with pleading in her eyes.
He owned her, that was true enough, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do her best to influence him. She felt compelled to prove herself to him, over and over.
If she took the time to examine that feeling, in fact, she might notice something negative was building behind it...but that would ruin the fun.
She mouthed several hot, silent, begging “please”s at him, over and over. With every please, she dragged her hand over the ever-stiffening bulge behind his pants.
With a short, jerky nod, he finally acquiesced to her pleas.
As he conducted the voice conference, Sophia happily unzipped his pants. Eagerly, she popped her pink lips over his perfect cockhead, taking more and more of him down her throat immediately.
His breathing became heavy and forced as he listened to the conference call. Sophia didn't care a whit about anything they were saying. All she wanted to do was suck her Master's cock like a good girl. Her tongue slipped up and down over the thick line of his rod, her slurping noises just under the audible level for the phone to pick up.
“How does that sound, Mr. Sand?” someone asked. And then, when he was too busy breathing hard to answer, “Gerald?”
As she devotedly sucked him down deep, he cleared his throat and tried to speak.
“Yeah, that’s good,” he said, voice catching. “That’s...that’s really good.”
“You’re sure?” said the voice on the phone. “You like those numbers?”
“Yes. Yessss,” he thrust his hips into Sophia's mouth, wrapping his legs around her head. “I mean...” he paused, trying to clear his head and think.
Sophia didn't pause, though. So close to his full eagerness, to a full, hot face fucking like she had always, always wanted from a Master, she kept going, licking and sucking with happy moans.
Voices on the phone tried to reconfirm with Sand.
“I gotta...” his every word was laced with lust, staring hard into Sophia's devoted green eyes. “I gotta go, boys. Send me a report and I'll make the decision tomorrow morning.”
He banged the desk, hanging up the phone—and almost immediately Sophia redoubled her efforts, moaning and slurping as loud as she could. Caught by surprise by her sudden surge of effort, Sand came hard down Sophia’s hot, eager mouth almost immediately.
His legs unwrapped from around her head and his whole body relaxed. With an almost religious fervor, she continued to lick and clean his slowly-softening cock.
“You are dangerous,” he said, looking at her with contented admiration. “If I had one of you for each competitor of mine, I'd have a monopoly on the whole damn economy.”
* * * * *
Thursday, when she arrived at his condo, Sand gifted her with a diamond necklace. It was mouthwateringly gorgeous—a combination of pear, cushion, and square-cut diamonds, each set in exquisite gold. Even the clasp was ornate—a twelve-point diamond star.
Looking at, Sophia could barely breathe. It was too much!
“Oh my god!” she cried, examining it. “This is—this is—this is...”
She couldn't even
say
what it was. Such incredible wealth was genuinely beyond her understanding.
“I was hoping to render you speechless,” he said with a grin, drawing her close. “But I will settle for babbling.”
She continued to try and speak and he lifted the hot mass of her dark hair up and clasped it around her neck. It was heavy, of course, but so elegant and shiny. Everything about her felt underdressed with it on. It was almost as good as wearing her collar.
“Perfect,” he said. “You look perfect.”
Her heart fluttered at his words. She needed him. Now. Her body pressed against his huge frame, her hand sinking to his cock.
All emotions inside of her rushed up to her mouth, sliding out on the edge of her lips, desperately aching to bridge into his mind.
Sophia loved him, in that moment. Truly.
But she could not bring herself to tell him. She couldn’t do it first. Not after Todd.
She knew he could see it in her eyes—she saw the flash of recognition there—but something strong and primal held him back just as something did her.
“Oh, Master,” she said instead, embracing him.
But within that phrase, her meaning was, “I love you.”
“My slave,” he said back to her, gripping her hard.
And she hoped that she was right, and with those words, he meant three others just as she did.
He stroked her hair, bringing down his face so that it was mere inches away from hers. “You can’t wear it at work, you understand. Too many questions.”
“Of course,” she cooed. “Yes. But you have to understand that I can’t just
let
you give me such a thing and not repay you...over and over again.”
Immediately, diamonds sparkling around her neck, she slipped to her knees and slid his pants down, taking his immense cock into her mouth.
She was getting very good at sucking him off.
Her emerald eyes stared up at him with open adoration, loving the thrill of wearing his property, being his property, everything about her totally his.
The blowjob led to a whole night of fucking. In each new room, she found out he had a new gift for her. In the living room was a pair of emerald earrings that a queen in Europe once wore. In the bedroom was a pair of panties made entirely out of rare jewels. In the kitchen was a diamond tiara.
“You’ll be my little domesticated queen,” he said, presenting her with each gift, stroking her chin. “You'll wearing nothing but jewelry, and do everything I say.”
The thought sent an unadulterated thrill down her spine. Sophia wanted to be all about fighting for women’s rights and equality and all of that, but the prospect of having a man own her, doing all her thinking and working for her while she dedicated herself solely to adoring him had an enormously erotic effect on her.
It simplified life, in a very specific way, to focus herself solely for being his fucktoy.
* * * * *
Buried deep in the comforting, perfect grip of Sand that night, Sophia was lost deep in thought, thinking of that notion he mentioned. Being his hot, domesticated queen.
She realized, suddenly, that for the longest time, domestication had fascinated her. It was such an obviously power-driven thing to do to a woman—to take her from someone who had enormous career aspirations and big hopes and dreams and transform her into a happy housewife who lived only to wear sexy lingerie and heels while she cooked dinner for her man. Spending all her time totally in love and waiting for him to come home so she could suck him off after serving him a nice hot meal, or getting fucked from behind while she rolled out a fresh tray of cookies.
Her first semester of college, freshly eighteen, she had still been a virgin when Halloween rolled around. She wasn't
determined
to lose her virginity, per se, but she was definitely thinking that it was about time for it to happen. So, wanting to at least get herself in the mood for such a thing, she dressed in the sexiest costume she could think of: a french maid.
There was something just so subversive and erotic about wearing a maid's outfit. The thought of actually being someone like that, living in a person's house with her own special maid room maybe, wearing a hot uniform that was designed entirely to show off her legs and tits...cornering the man of the house in his office, dropping down to her knees to do her maidly duty and make him forget
all
about his hard, hard day and focus entirely on his hard, hard cock...
Yes. Maid outfits were hot.
The upperclassman who picked her up apparently thought the same way.
His name was Marcus. She remembered he was dressed in a tight black shirt and tighter black jeans, his overwhelming musculature instantly making her feel in heat. His costume was some television personality or another—she didn't care. She just wanted to make out with him.
When she finally got to be alone with him in the bedroom of some stranger's house (it was a college party, after all), they were both a little drunk. Very quickly, things got out of hand...and his clothes were off, his cock big and hard in the dark. Bad rap music thumped downstairs.
He told her, “keep the costume on. I like it.”
Feeling naughty and brave, she cooed, “Yes Sir.”
He liked that a lot. He pushed her shoulders down to the bed, pinning her there.
“I want to hold you down while I fuck you,” he said. “Is that all right?”
Eyes wide, she nodded eagerly.
He didn't just fuck away her virginity, he dominated it away.
The next day, she woke up in Marcus's arms, and they hung out, went out to a fast food breakfast, slipped back to his place, and fucked again. Once again, both of them sober this time, he dominated her—holding her down and calling her his slut.
After that, she never heard from him again. There were all sorts of valid reasons for it—maybe he lost her number, or forgot her name, or moved on from the town, or reunited with some girlfriend. But of course, what it really meant to Sophia was that she simply wasn't good enough. That this strong, dominant man who had all but completely defined her sexuality had decided she wasn't worthy of him.
It was soul-crushing. She spiraled into a depression for six months, refusing to eat and sleep, staying up late and making mixtape after mixtape to express how she felt. Somehow, she ended up bouncing out of the depression without yet dropping out of college.
What really brought her out of the depression was a long, steady line of bad boyfriends and flings. Each and every guy she chose to go out with, she qualified as not good enough for her even before she went out on a date with him. In this way, she could feel perfectly okay about the relationship—however serious it was—ending suddenly.