The Billionaire's Dark Lady Read Online Free Page B

that had just begun to stroke and pet my nipple grasped my entire breast and gave a soft squeeze, and then stroked down my belly to the waistband of my skirt.
     
    I hesitated. Should I tease myself on the outside of the fabric, or would he like to see me take it off?
     
    For now, I decided, I needed to go ahead and touch myself through the fabric. I was so tormentingly aroused that I wasn't sure a touch to my bare skin wouldn't make me explode.
     
    Carefully, I started tracing little patterns on my skirt above my most sensitive parts. Little circles around the nub I knew was hiding there, occasionally an X that crossed right over it to make me moan.
     
    Roger started saying "My dear girl, this is the best show I have seen in a long time."
     
    His voice was lower than I'd heard it. Did desire make it so?
     
    "If you were anyone else, when you marched into my house nearly a full week early, I would have kissed you, and grabbed a handful of your ass, and perhaps slid a hand up your shirt to squeeze one of your nipples - hard. I'd like to see you squeeze one of your own nipples that way, would you mind doing that for me?"
     
    My hand left off what it was doing and slowly slid up my stomach to my breast, and, with only a slight hesitation, I squeezed one of my nipples.
     
    "Harder," he said, quietly.
     
    I pressed my fingers together more forcefully, the pain making me breathe raggedly for a moment as the desire swelled within me.
     
    "Very good," he said, "I like that. Next, I would have taken your hand and led you into the living room, this room right here. I would have brought you right over to the chair where you're sitting now, only I would have had you bend over it, fully dressed."
     
    I shivered and returned my hand back to the cloth of my skirt, pressing harder at the aching little spot that was waiting there.
     
    "I would have gone ahead and spanked you once, on the fabric of your little skirt, just as a warm-up."
     
    I slipped a single finger between the waistband of my skirt and my underwear, feeling the softness of my pubic hair.
     
    "Then I would have lifted your skirt up over your back, so I could see what underwear you were wearing, and look at the white globes of your ass. What underwear are you wearing, my dear girl, would you mind showing me?"
     
    Slowly, I removed my finger from my waistband and uncrossed my legs, before spreading my creamy thighs and lifting my skirt up to touch my belly, so he could see the little lacy thong between my legs. I knew from a naughty peek in a mirror a few months ago that this thong barely covered my hidden sex, so I was almost bare to his eyes.
     
    "Oh, that's very nice," he murmured. In a louder voice, he asked "Is this helping you? Would you like me to continue."
     
    "Yes, please," I said.
     
    "I would have carefully run one hand over both of your asscheeks, to feel how soft your skin was, and then I would have pulled my hand away and slapped one of them. Not too hard, just enough to startle you and see if I could make you moan. Yes, just like that. You're very good at this."
     
    Now that my thong was exposed, I started running my finger down the length of it, over all of the parts that craved to be touch, the parts it was barely containing. I could feel how damp it was growing, letting me slide my finger smoothly over the lace, faster and faster as it grew wetter and wetter.
     
    "If you were silent, I would remind you after that to count the blows for me, to say 'one, sir' as I'd taught you."
     
    I nodded quietly to myself and continued enjoying the little sparks of need that my body was giving in response to this dramatic story.
     
    "Now, now, I think you can listen to the rest without touching yourself," he said.
     
    I pulled my hands reluctantly from my body and placed them on the arms of the chair.
     
    "If you had been anyone else, I would have given you twenty strokes of my hand to make up for the crime of disobeying my wishes. You would have