Bought By The Billionaire - BDSM 18 novel Chapter 61

“Um, well my breasts or my pussy.”

Laughter rumbles through his chest. “Well, those are certainly very entertaining parts of you. But despite what you might think, I don't have the urge to spend all my time there. However… this part of you…” The palm rests where my pelvis arcs in toward my ribs… “… it feels very… natural… to simply rest my hand there.”

“Actually, I know what you mean. That same part on you. That feels good too.”

Now he sounds surprised. “Is that so?”

“That’s so.”

He pauses for a heartbeat… Two... Then, “I wouldn't have thought the male version of that part of the body would appeal. It's really just a straight line. Who looks for a man with a wasp waist?”

“No one. But it's not truly straight, is it?” I slide my hand across his frame in demonstration, over the contour of hip as far as the belt line. “It's subtle, but it's there. The curve. The way the skin smooths over bone and muscle. It sort of… melds… into your abs.”

He huffs a laugh. “Nice you think I have abs.”

“You do have abs, Master. You look after yourself. Of course you do.”

He falls quiet, continuing his stroking.

“Master?”

“I have to look after myself, Elizabeth. For you.”

His age…

He always worries about his age…

“Master, we all have the same amount of time. Exactly the same.”

“Huh?” He jolts. “What are we talking about now?”

“We all have the same amount of time. We’re living in it. The Now. The Past is behind us. Gone. It’s done. The future? Who knows what’s there or how much of it there might be for any of us? No one.”

“Elizabeth…” There’s pain in his voice…

I twist to face him, tugging the sheet around myself. “That friend of yours who died. Bobby. Sixteen years old you said. I bet if you'd asked him that morning, he'd have said he had sixty years ahead of him. He didn't have sixty minutes. No one could have known it.”

I lay my hand on his chest. His heart thumps against my palm. “All any of us have is the Now. And we all have exactly the same amount of that.”

He tightens his hold on me, resting his cheek against mine. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You found me, Master. We found each other.” Moving in close, I press my face into his chest, basking in his scent, his heat. His nearness.

After a minute, itchy, I sniff. Then sniff again. Then, rubbing at my face, I sneeze.

“Elizabeth?”

“Just a stray hair tickling my nose, Master.”

He chuckles. “If you comb my chest with your nose, that’s to be expected.”

“I want to be close to you, Master.”

“My Love, the only way we would be any closer than we are is if I were inside you…” He shifts to look into my face. “Ah… I see…”

He rolls, freeing his arms. “Let’s see what we can do about that, shall we.” His hands free once more, they resume their exploration of my body. Behind my shoulders, blunted fingernails nip in, pinpricks of sensation that skip down my vertebrae and catch the breath in my throat.

“That’s so good.”

“Is it? So where can we go from there?” The hand glides lower, trailing my spine. The fingernails bite a little deeper, drawing lines that bump over a single vertebra at a time, working down over my ribs…

… the small of my back…

… needling into my tailbone…

… and sending emergency alerts to my pussy.

Hissing, I gasp and shiver. His nostrils flare. “No need to ask if you're enjoying that.”

“It feels amazing.”

“Good. Why don't we take that a stage further? Lie back.”

Rolling to lie flat, I arch, raising and parting my knees. Sliding down to lie alongside me, my Master loops an arm around me, angling me as he draws me closer.

The hand continues its bare-touch massage of my skin. Drawing a finger over the line of my jaw, he leans in to lay a kiss on my forehead, then my lips.

The finger glides down my neck, tracing the line of my clavicle, but his lips linger by my face, dipping to place a kiss on one cheek, then the other, before he opens his mouth over mine.

Cupping a breast, the heavy flesh settles into his palm while, with finger and thumb, he plucks at the nipple. A frisson shivers through me…

“Aahhhh…”

… and involuntarily, I buck.

My Master Hmmms pleasure and satisfaction, then eyes intense, falls silent as he stoops to take the nipple in his mouth. Nibbling and plucking, he teases my nubbed flesh with teeth and lips. The sensation, not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but the two woven together in a tapestry of sensation, spikes down. I yelp, trying to pitch forward, but now my Master clamps a hand over my shoulders. “No, you don’t. Elizabeth…”

“Master?”

“Grip the bars.”

Obeying, I reach up and back, curling fingers around the bars of the bedhead. Rolling to partly cover me, my Master grips my wrists, then wraps fingers around mine, tightening my grip. “Will you hold on?”

“Yes, Master.”

He rolls again, now lying over me. His body cloaking mine, his shaft presses hard against my belly, hard enough that the throb of his pulse passes through to the echoing throb within me.

“I want you inside me, Master.”

His eyes flick up to meet mine, then down to my breasts, quivering in time with my accelerating pulse. Stooping, he once more takes an erect nipple into his mouth, and as he suckles, smoothly, quietly, he enters me…

And withdraws.

And re-enters, more deeply this time…

Then withdraws again.

My climax billows up like some great thundercloud, rising skyward, a great wave of potential, powered up, ever up, from its heated core, then spreading out over belly and thigh, leaving me poised and panting…

Lightning strikes…

… and lurching, I convulse into orgasm. My Master pins me, his mouth locked over my raptured sex, an arm locked around each thigh, an irresistible restraint against my attempts to buck and thrash.

Pulsing muscle within, gushing hot liquids without, I wail my glory…

… until…

… harrowed by pleasure… “Stop, Master. Stop!”

… and the enrapturing, torturing, blissful mouth is gone, leaving me quaking in its wake.

As the euphoria fades, I blink open.

“You can let go now, Elizabeth.”

?

My fingers are clamped into my Master’s hair…

When did I let go of the bed bars?

Sheepishly I release my grip, only for him to grab my wrists, levering them back over my head this time keeping hold, and I have a bare moment to register that he’s still fully erect before he slams into me.

Propped up above me, elbows locked, he presses down, his weight on my wrists. It hurts. But I don’t think it’s going to be for long. Looking down, he watches himself ramming home, pounding me inside. And now I swing my legs around him, locking my ankles at his waist, welcoming him in.

His eyes lift, meeting with mine and momentarily he grins before, as though he were in pain, teeth bared, he flings his head back.

Under his weight, my hands are going numb. Wriggling my fingers, I try to twist my arms a touch to ease the pressure. His gaze snaps down, fixing on my wrists. With a bare look of apology, he releases his grip, then lowers himself onto me, now taking his weight on his elbows, cradling me under the shoulders.

So close to me, his breath rasps by my face, a harsh drawing and redrawing of air. His heart thunders through his chest and mine. His sweat slicks over my chest and belly, pooling in the slight cavity of my breastbone. And he’s huge, his erection at full extent, stretching my willing cunt as he thrusts and keeps thrusting… until…

… deep inside me…

… the pause…

… a deep inhalation…

And with a groan, dropping his face to my shoulder, he grinds into me, hips twisting as he shudders and spills into me.

For a good minute, he lies there, spent. I stroke his hair, waiting for him to return to me…

Then, blowing air, he flops back onto the bed beside me, swiping sweat from his face. “Somehow,” he says, “I thought we’d take this evening more slowly than that.”

I slap a palm onto his still-heaving chest. “Slow start, Master. Fast finish.”

He huffs. “The problem is that once I’m ready for you, I just want to fuck your brains out.”

“I can live with that, Master.”