Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires
Page 18
Removing one of his hands from her grip, he slipped it behind her neck and pulled her close, so their foreheads pressed together. “I love you, too. You’re amazing. An amazing person, an incredibly talented writer, and someone I can see myself being with for a very long time. If you’ll have me. Of course, it helps that you’re loaded. I’ve always wanted to date a billionaire.”
Catriona pulled away, gaping. Even if Elijah hadn’t been grinning like the Cheshire cat, she’d have known he was joking. It wasn’t his words that had shocked her, exactly, more the meaning behind them. “A... billionaire? Wha—t?”
Frowning, he replied, “Come on, you’re the money expert. Surely you’ve worked it out. Taking into consideration what your day job is netting you, then your advance and the royalties that are going to be coming your way... a few wise investments and you can easily turn millionairess status into billionairess.”
“Holy fuck!” She snagged her wine and downed it. “This is fucking insane. How the hell has all this happened to me?”
“Hey.” Reaching for her, Elijah pulled her in for a hug. “What happened to calming the fuck down?” He stroked her hair, the action immensely soothing. “Everything will be all right, I promise. You have nothing to worry about. You’re smart, capable and brilliant. Once the shock has worn off, you’ll be just fine. Now, how about that hot monkey sex?” He gently pushed her away so he could look at her face.
Mirroring his cheeky smile, she nodded. “Yes, I’d like that very much.” Standing, she leaned down and closed the lid of the laptop, putting it into sleep mode. Then she held out her hand to Elijah. “Come on, then, gorgeous. I’m ready to finish this chapter on a high and look forward to a new one. But,” she added as they crossed the apartment towards her bedroom, “if we ever get married, we’re going to need one hell of a pre-nup.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less, rich girl. Now stop talking and get naked.”
Chapter Five
Several weeks later
Heart pounding and palms clammy, Catriona forced herself to put one foot in front of the other. This time, though, she wasn’t walking into the bookshop—that fateful bookshop.
No, this time, she was entering one of London’s most exclusive BDSM clubs, and she was petrified. She’d been working on her Domme persona over the last few weeks, though, and she was pretty confident that her fear was only obvious to herself.
After she and Elijah had finished their last chapter with the hot monkey sex—and it had been hot—things had gotten better and better. They still indulged in vanilla sex, for want of a better description, but they’d also started to explore their deepest needs, wants and fantasies. It amazed Catriona how Elijah, who was so supremely confident and very much his own man, could slip so effortlessly into the submissive role when they were doing a scene. The first time he’d done it, she’d been surprised at the transformation, yet, ultimately, incredibly aroused.
As agreed, they’d started out more gently, in a weird parallel with Eliza and Leon, the characters in the very book that had brought them together. But they’d soon outgrown the relatively tame scenes played out between the pages, and were forging ahead with sexy new adventures; ones which were catalogued in Catriona’s mind and scribbled down into notebooks as soon as possible, then added into the rapidly-progressing second book when the time was right.
So far, their increasingly outrageous kinky exploits had all been carried out firmly behind closed doors—whether it was at her place, or his. Taking the step from private to public was the most nerve-wracking part for Catriona—she wasn’t a natural exhibitionist, but somewhere, in her deepest, darkest recesses, the embers of arousal flared. She could do this, she would do this. She wanted to, and so did Elijah.
Now all she had to do was find him. Leaving her long coat with a cloakroom attendant, she resisted the temptation to start tugging and tweaking at her outfit as she strode down the dim corridor, the music growing louder with every step. She looked good, even by her own admission, but she’d have felt more comfortable arriving with Elijah, rather than separately. But it didn’t fit in with the scene they were playing; not tonight.
It was a little like a game of cat and mouse, she supposed, as she passed into the main room of the club and took in her surroundings. She was pleasantly surprised at the decor—though she’d never admitted it, she’d really been expecting black-painted walls, black carpets, black chandeliers—a Goth’s wet dream, in other words. A dark and dingy place, for people to take part in dark and secretive activities.
But the place was amazing. Yes, the lighting was low, but who on earth wanted high-wattage light bulbs everywhere when they were in states of undress and ecstasy? Otherwise it looked utterly classy, and hugely inviting. The walls were covered in flocked wallpaper of the deepest purple, with faux-sconces fixed to them at regular intervals. Sofas and chairs matched the colour of the walls—though they were sensibly made from leather or PVC. It was a fetish club—wipe clean materials were presumably a must.
Luscious black carpeting covered the floor. Catriona had expected tiles, but as soon as she began walking on the carpet, she realised it was a stroke of genius. High heels and smooth, polished floors weren’t exactly the best combination. And the carpet was probably a kinder option for the patrons that were sitting, kneeling or crawling on it.
The patrons, in fact, were probably the only thing that gave away the function of the place. Take away the leather, the PVC, the whips, gimp masks, gags, handcuffs and other kinky paraphernalia, and it could have been an upmarket bar or club.
Sneaking peeks at people as she passed them on the way to the bar, Catriona hoped she would find Elijah soon. Now the initial nervousness and discomfort had passed, those embers of arousal were smouldering. She wanted to see him; see that handsome face, gorgeous smile, mischievous eyes, amazing body. Most of all, though, she was curious to see what he’d chosen to wear. So far, they hadn’t bothered with outfits—only props.
Now, though, she didn’t look all that different to the other Dommes she could see. Some wore much more extreme outfits, if the tiny scraps of material could even be classed as clothing. But many were like her, in little dresses of varying colours and fabric, with epic fuck-me heels. Accessories she could see—on both dominants and submissives—ranged from collars and cuffs to butt plugs designed to look like animal tails.
Biting back a smirk, Catriona realised she could get inspiration here. There were kinks and ideas that hadn’t even occurred to her—and it seemed the possibilities were endless. Perfect.
Ordering a glass of sparkling water, she paid, thanked the barman and turned back to face the room. Suddenly, she felt someone watching her. Outwardly, she didn’t react, but her heart rate increased once more.
It was Elijah—she knew it. He was close. As casually as possible, she looked for him. It couldn’t be that difficult—surely people on their own were a rare commodity in a place such as this?
After what felt like an age, her gaze finally found his. The cat had located the mouse. He was tucked away at the edge of the room, leaning against the wall. From this distance she couldn’t make out much detail, but he appeared to be wearing black leather trousers and a simple white t-shirt. He had his arms folded, which gave her a sublime view of his firm biceps and she wanted nothing more than to cling onto them as he worshipped her eager body. As usual, he looked divine.
She was just about to head over to him when she remembered herself. This was no ordinary bar—they were playing a scene, for heaven’s sake! Settling fully into that mindset, she raised her eyebrows at him, silently commanding him to come to her.
He pushed off the wall, then effortlessly slipped into submissive mode. His posture changed entirely as he approached her, and by the time he arrived at her side, the smouldering had burst into a full-on flame.
“Turn,” she said, wanting to get a better look at his clothes. Or, more accurately, at just how delicious his body looked inside them.
Word
lessly, he executed a slow turn on the spot, and Catriona drank him in, particularly admiring the way his backside was encased in the leather trousers.
“Good, Elijah. You look good.”
“Thank you, Mistress. You look perfect.”
“Thank you. Have you found somewhere for us to play?”
“I have. Would you like to come with me?”
With an incline of her head, she let Elijah place his hand on her lower back and lead her to a door opposite the one she’d entered the club through. It opened out into a corridor full of yet more doors. Some were closed, some open, others ajar. Judging by the sounds spilling from the rooms with ajar or open doors, there was a great deal of kinky fun taking place.
A rush of arousal made the tiny hairs on the back of Catriona’s neck stand on end. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than to have some kinky fun of her own, with the man she loved.
The man in question stopped in front of a door, opened it and indicated she should enter. When she had, he asked, “Would you like me to close the door, Mistress?”
Pausing briefly, she then shook her head. “No, leave it open. I don’t mind people watching what I’ve got in store for you, my little subbie. Now come here.”
Crossing the room in a couple of easy strides, he stood in front of her, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor. God, they hadn’t really done anything yet and already the power was flooding her veins, sending blood rushing to her groin and swelling her pussy lips.
“Your safe word, sub?”
“Leon.”
An in-joke, but one that would make her stop what she was doing immediately should he say the word.
“Much as I like this t-shirt, it’s got to go.”
“Yes, Mistress.” He removed it quickly and easily—probably the very reason he’d worn it. She hadn’t told him what to do with it, so he held on to it.
“I’ll take that.”
Handing it over wordlessly, he continued to look at the floor.
Draping the warm material over the back of her neck like a scarf, she stepped around Elijah, subtly pulling in his scent from the cotton as she looked around the room they were in. The decor was similar to the main area, but the furniture was very different. There was a sofa and a couple of chairs, but they were pushed to one side—not the main attraction at all, and possibly only used for people to sit and watch the action in the centre of the room.
As she looked at the equipment that was the main attraction, her brain whirred with the possibilities. Beyond arriving separately at the club and having to find each other, and Elijah securing them a room, they’d made no further plans for what they’d get up to.
Catriona didn’t quite know where to start, but she reminded herself that she didn’t have to do everything tonight. If they enjoyed the experience, they could come back to the club again, and again, indulging in anything and everything that popped into their heads.
Right at that moment, having Elijah’s face pressed to her naked pussy took her fancy.
Chapter Six
Fortunately, there was an ideal piece of furniture just feet away that could bring that particular fancy into a very sexy reality.
“Elijah?”
“Yes, Mistress?”
“You can stop looking at the floor now. Get yourself into position under that stool.”
The stool was not something she’d seen before, but the function was pretty self-explanatory. She’d position her backside on the U-shaped seat, and her pussy and arse would be completely exposed to Elijah, who’d be underneath, ready to eat her out.
Catriona definitely liked the idea of it—it was a way to sit on Elijah’s face, completely asserting her dominance over him, without worrying about suffocating him, her legs getting tired, or them giving out on her altogether when she came. All she had to do was sit there and enjoy.
Pulling her dress up to her waist, she removed her skimpy thong and stuffed it into her handbag, then settled onto the purple leather seat. It was cool against her skin, serving to emphasise the heat that was already emanating from her pussy. Hmm... think I may have to get online and invest in one of these babies myself.
Elijah busily manoeuvred, wriggling a little to ensure he was in exactly the right place.
Another plus point, Catriona thought, was that because her weight wasn’t actually on Elijah, he could move around, teasing and tantalising every part of the goodies between her legs, driving her to distraction—and climax—with his tongue, lips and hands, if he wished. She wasn’t too fussy about his technique—as long as it had the desired effect, she was happy. Maybe she wasn’t the strictest Mistress, but if they both got their kicks—who cared?
She’d never actually asked for details about Elijah’s past scenes and experience, but it was obvious he’d never used one of these stools before, either. He seemed ensure what to do with his hands. Deciding to help him out, she said, “You may put your hands on the stool, or on me. Just not on yourself.”
The last part had been completely unnecessary, she knew, as Elijah would never deign to touch or pleasure himself without her express permission. But a little reminder never hurt anyone.
Reaching up and around, Elijah placed his hands on her legs, the tips of his fingers brushing the delicate skin of her inner thighs. He couldn’t quite reach her pussy, but that was okay—that was what his mouth was for. And, settled in, Elijah began proving this point.
His hot breath huffed against her skin as he moved a little more, eager to hit just the right spot. Then his lips fastened to her labia, sucking at the plump, already-slick flesh. He moaned as her juices hit his taste buds.
Gripping his wrists to keep herself balanced as her pleasure increased, Catriona closed her eyes. God, but he was good.
A shuffling sound from across the room immediately made her open her eyes again. There, in the doorway, stood a couple. They were around hers and Elijah’s age. The woman was dressed similarly to Catriona, and the man was in nothing but a small pair of PVC shorts. Easy to see who was in charge there, then.
Catriona wasn’t quite sure what the etiquette was. She’d known there was a high possibility they’d be watched, since the door had been left open, but did she acknowledge the presence of the pair, or did she pretend they weren’t there? Hard to ignore someone right in front of you when your boyfriend was licking your pussy, though.
Fortunately, the woman took the lead. Silently, she pointed to the seating at the edge of the room and raised an eyebrow, questioning.
Catriona nodded. They wanted to watch, nothing more. That, she could handle.
Happy that was all that was going to happen, she turned her attention back to the talented tongue between her legs. Elijah had really gotten into his stride now, his fingers digging into her soft thighs as his movements below became faster, more enthusiastic.
His stubble grazed her delicate skin, sending flames of desire flickering throughout her body. Damn, the boy’s got skills. Without even being able to see herself, she knew that her clit was swollen to almost impossible dimensions. Her groin felt so heavy, so achey, but in a totally sublime way.
Elijah treated her entire crotch to his special brand of pleasure. From her clit to her labia, her perineum to the pucker of her arsehole, he licked, sucked and nibbled with gusto, every movement driving her ever closer to climax.
No doubt his face was coated with her juices; she looked forward to kissing him long, hard and deep when she’d come, tasting herself on him. She wouldn’t allow him to wash until they got home, either. Her pussy had claimed him with its secretions, and he’d wear that claim like a badge of honour—her scent keeping him constantly aroused and ready for whatever she had planned next.
As he pulled her distended nub between his lips, her need grew tenfold. She was close to coming; the long, intense anticipation of the evening, its final arrival and the fact they were being openly observed likely adding fuel to her fire. What could possibly be hotter—her gorgeous, sexy submissive eating her cunt like i
t was the finest delicacy and getting off on it, despite the fact his cock was still tucked safely into his leather trousers.
She’d make him wait until they got home. Maybe she’d even make him think he wouldn’t be allowed to come at all that evening; until her own desires got the better of her and she straddled his hips, positioned his glans at her entrance and slid down his beautiful shaft until they both gasped and moaned with the blissful sensation. Then she’d ride him until their respective orgasms ripped through them.
A shiver ran up her spine at the erotic imagery, the further anticipation of what was to come. But first, she wanted to climax all over Elijah’s face. It wouldn’t be long—he was tongue-fucking her arsehole like the pro that he was, a trick he knew always resulted in a particularly intense orgasm for her.
“Elijah,” she croaked, no longer caring that she sounded more like she was asking than telling, “make me come. Use your hands, too.”
Immediately, his right hand slipped off her leg and under the stool. He continued to penetrate her backside with his tongue, using his fingers to gather up her juices and slick them over her sensitive clit. He wouldn’t put his fingers inside her cunt, of that she was sure. He was perfectly capable of making her come without doing so, and it made it all the more delicious when his cock entered her, stretched her wide, if he hadn’t already done so with his hands.
Apparently satisfied her clit was lubricated enough, he began to rub it—back and forth, side-to-side, in circles; erratic movements designed to prevent her from coming too quickly. But her climax was a runaway train—there was no stopping it now.
Of course, Elijah’s intention wasn’t to prevent her from coming, but to give her the best possible experience. And he certainly did that—tingles were taking over every millimetre of her skin, and she truly felt as though she was going to burst.
Then, without halting his spectacular analingus, Elijah took her clit between forefinger and thumb, and pinched, hard.