The Billionaire's Dark Lady Read Online Free Page A

my bare cheeks, and again, I shivered against his cock.
     
    He pulled away from my chest, darted back in for one lick to my nipple, and then sat back.
     
    "Enough," he said. "Too far again. God, what you do to me, you're so damn hot that I can hardly stand it. I need a minute."
     
    He gestured at the chair next to the couch and I went to sit on it. My exposed thighs, slightly sweaty and trembling from desire, stuck to the leather and I shifted back and forth slightly, getting comfortable as he lay back, shutting his eyes and rubbing his cock in long, slow strokes through his pants.
     
    I wondered if his cock ached anything like my sex did. Seeing that his eyes were still shut, I reached down one finger and rubbed the sweet little spot of need that I found there.
     
    Getting distracted by how amazing the relief from the yearning that my body was feeling, I started to rub slow circles on the fabric of my skirt, throwing my head back and shutting my eyes.
     
    When I lifted one hand and started to roll the pink tip of my breast between my fingers, squeezing the nipple repeatedly, Roger spoke up.
     
    “I could watch you do that for hours,” he said, and I jerked my hands away from my body.
     
    “Why,” I started to ask, and then paused.
     
    Perhaps I wouldn’t like the answer I got - but I had to know.
     
    “Why don’t you want to touch me?” I asked.
     
    He chuckled again.
     
    “That is not the problem, my dear girl,” he said. “The problem is that I want you to bend you back over that chair right now and fuck you silly, and that’s not what I want your first time to be like. I want your first time to be about your pleasure, not my need to get my rocks off with a beautiful teenage girl.”
     
    I hesitated.
     
    “Is that what you’d really do right now if I were someone else? Someone more experienced?”
     
    “Actually, if you were anyone else, I would have spanked you for showing up before I told you to,” he said.
     
    Surprisingly, the little thrill of fear that went through me at those words contained a small thread of… desire. The idea of getting spanked by this man, of being punished, made the heat pool in my belly and my toes curl.
     
    “Would you mind telling me about spanking?” I asked.
     
    He smiled.
     
    “That’s not unappealing? You could get behind the idea of being bent over my lap?” he asked.
     
    I didn’t trust myself to speak. I simply nodded, looking down at my lap.
     
    “All right, I have a suggestion. Why don’t you touch yourself while I tell you about it?”
     
    “Sure,” I said softly.
     
    At that point, I was perched on the edge of a slippery leather armchair, wearing nothing but a khaki miniskirt and a thong. I could see my bra on the floor a few feet away, but I wasn’t certain where my shirt was. Roger was fully dressed and smiling his kindest smile at me from the large sofa. I looked totally debauched, but I didn’t mind as much as I perhaps should have. He was such a nice man, and he was being so sweet to me.
     
    I waited for him to start talking, to tell me more about the discipline that had piqued my interest.
     
    He stretched, and I watched his muscles bunch and relax underneath his expensive outfit, as I’d done so many times before - generally, though, while fully dressed!
     
    Finally, I broke the silence.
     
    “Um?” I began, before trailing off again.
     
    “I’d be happy to start talking once you fulfil your part of our little bargain,” he said.
     
    “Oh!” I replied.
     
    I had to start touching myself again, knowing that his eyes were on me.
     
    I crossed my legs and, blushing, reached up to touch one of my pearled tips, which was already achingly hard and proudly erect. The barest brush of my fingers against it made me shiver and muffle a moan, and when I grasped it in a tighter hold, I leaned my head back and shut my eyes with pleasure.
     
    After that first teasing caress, it was easier to touch myself.
     
    The same hand