Bought By The Billionaire - BDSM 18 novel Chapter 44

Padding up the stairs, tray in hand, I re-enter the bedroom. My Master, angled up on an elbow, wipes sleep from his eyes. “Elizabeth? Where have you been?”

“Can’t a new wife bring breakfast for her new husband?”

His face softens, lighting up his eyes. “Of course she can. Thank you, my Love.” He shifts to sit properly upright, and I plump up a pillow to push behind him. Once he’s comfortable, I serve him coffee in a perfect porcelain cup and saucer. He gulps down the first cup in a couple of swallows, but sips at the second, alternating with bites of toast and marmalade.

When I think he’s taken enough on board for the day to make sense, I pose my question. "Master, what happens after this?”

My Master pauses in chewing his toast, brow furrowing. Chewing again, he gulps and swallows. “After what? Sorry, Elizabeth, what are we talking about?”

“After the honeymoon. What happens next?”

“Elizabeth, I'm not following you. What are you asking me?”

“Master, when we first met, I was just a trainee in your company and your…” My face heats… “… your employee.” His lips pucker and he tilts his head. “But now, suddenly, I'm Mrs Haswell. Do I go back to work and college as I did before? Am I supposed to be with you all the time?”

He blinks. “Not all the time, Elizabeth. Few married couples are together all the time. I’m sure it wouldn’t be good for either party to be so dependent on another person, however close.”

He sips at his coffee again. “I still don’t truly understand what you are asking me. Would you prefer not to work? You don't have to if you don’t want to. If you want to be a…” For a moment, he flounders for the words… “… a professional wife, that is of course, an option for you. If it’s what you want, I'm sure looking after this house and its grounds would keep you busy. Such a home is a full-time career in its own right.”

My mouth flaps open. Then closed again. “A professional wife? Master, I wouldn't know where to start.”

He sucks at his teeth. Tugs at an ear. “I suppose we should both have thought this through before. You will appreciate that I hold some status in the City. As my wife, you also have a standing in the community.”

“Master, you’ve married a shop-keeper’s daughter.”

Humour tugs at his lips. He levels a finger at me. “And I’m thankful for that. Elizabeth, you have a great store of common sense. I encounter far too many social flitterby’s who make their way through life tagging along behind their man.” He pauses, his forehead furrowing. “I’d like you to tell me about your family sometime.”

My throat tightens. My words are slow and reluctant. “My family?”

“Yes…” His frown deepens. “Your father and mother. How you grew up. I noticed you didn't talk with them very much at the wedding. Just that old uncle of yours and, was it one of your cousins?” He slips a hand over mine. “But I can see I’m making you uncomfortable. It doesn’t have to be now necessarily but… sometime.”

“I’ll do that, Master, but as you say, some other time. For now, let’s just say that my life with you is very different to how I grew up.”

His expression hovers between a smile and puzzlement. “Good different, I hope.”

“Of course, good, Master. It’s just…” My words dry up.

The hand squeezes my fingers. “Of course, yes. But… your father owns a hardware store? Do I have that right? It must have been a huge turnaround to find yourself with me, money no object.”

I laugh... “You have no idea.” … then sober up. “I understand what you are, Master. My husband is an important man in the City. I have to accept what goes with that.”

He slow-blinks, head canting. “Elizabeth… Are you regretting your decision to marry me?”

“No! Oh, no, Master. Marrying you is my fairy-tale. I’m just… I suppose all my attention was focused on the two of us. I’d not stopped to consider what else might be involved.”

He doesn’t reply at first. Instead, he snags another slice of toast, scrapes butter over, then crunches a bite. Finally, “Your life doesn’t have to be so different. There’s nothing stopping you from pursuing your academic work. Or from continuing your training in the company. Indeed, I think you should. I would like it if you did. You have already proved yourself to be an adept thinker with an eye for detail. Before, as you say, you were simply my employee. Now, I have you at my side. Don’t I?”

“Always, Master. Always.”

His frown softens. “I don’t see that any of that is inconsistent with any new role you may have taken on as my wife.”

“New role? Such as?”

“Again? That’s three times in…”

“Be quiet, Madam,” he mutters. “Do as you’re told.”

Already warm inside, my core liquefies at his words. Feeling loose and liquid, I part my thighs, arching to present myself to him as he rolls atop me, supporting himself on both arms now to take his weight.

The hardness that pressured my thigh now anchors onto my sex. The curve on his lips reaches his eyes. “Well, Mrs Haswell,” he murmurs. “Are you going to argue some more? Or are you ready to accommodate your husband?”

I loop arms around his shoulders. “Always, Master.”

“That’s good to hear. Because I intend to spend several days inhibiting your ability to walk straight.”

His smile fades, and lowering himself a little, his expression intense as he supports me behind the shoulders, gradually sinking into my depths. It’s so smooth, so easy. I’m ready for him, my flesh welcoming his as he enters me, taking his rights of me as Master and Husband. As he fills me, I draw in air, letting it out again with a gasp.

Withdrawing again a little, he pauses again, unravelling his arms from behind me, then unlooping my arm from around him. One large hand looping around my wrists, he levers my arms up, pressing down against the pillow…

Mastering me…

My heart pounds and inside my ears, a pulse thumps.

He pauses, breathes deeply, the sunlight playing over his features, his pupils pricking with the light, then widening again as he looks at me.

His face. Fine featured. The skin taut. The bone structure defined. The steel-blue of his eyes matched by the steel drawn through his dark hair.

His muscle tone too. My Master, for all that he is older, takes care of himself. And it shows. A scattering of steel-grey hair only highlights broad chest and shoulders before trailing over a firm, flat belly in a narrowing line toward his groin.