Bought by the Boss

by Valentine, Layla

  “The money?” I ask.

  She nods. Her head moves in my palm. I step in closer. Now our bodies are flush.

  “You’ve never been with a billionaire?” I ask, somewhat facetiously.

  This time she shakes her head, and her cheek bushes against my hand in the other direction.

  “You’re going to like it,” I say. I speak softly, but with authority. It’s a command. An order. My mouth is tipping toward hers. Now she lifts her chin and looks into my eyes. Her lids close, her dark lashes kiss her upper cheek.

  She’s giving me permission.

  I take my reward, finally letting my lips fuse with hers. I press my lips against the seam of hers, and then, just as I feel her lips part, I delve my tongue into her mouth. I feel her dissolve in my arms, and I hold her steady as I probe my tongue against hers. It’s intimate—feeling into the depths of her mouth. I want more. I want to plunge myself into other parts of her.

  I pull away, leaving her panting for air. I’ve taken the breath right out of her lungs. She wobbles on her feet.

  “I’ve never—I’ve never been kissed like that before,” she says, eyeing me as she steps backward. Her hand reaches up to her lips. She brushes her fingers against her bottom lip.

  “Did you like it?” I ask.

  She nods.

  “Kneel,” I say.

  The crease forms along her right brow again. Damn, she is easy to read.

  I hide a smile. I love seeing her like this—so demure, like putty in my hands… So easy to mold to my liking.

  This is my favorite game to play, but I don’t want to frighten her too much. I lean forward and kiss her again, this time with more gentleness. I let her open her mouth. I wait, as she steps toward me, fueled by the wanting in her own body. She presses against me, and I know I have her where I want her.

  I kiss her back, without introducing my tongue, waiting. Finally, she moves her tongue into my mouth as I’d hoped. I accept her fully, letting her explore. Yes, baby, yes. When we part, she’s breathless again.

  “Good?” I ask, eyeing her. I don’t think she knows how easy this is.

  She nods.

  “Baby, I want to give you a night you won't forget,” I say. “I want to make you feel good. So good. Trust me. Do what I say. I know how to make you feel good.”

  She nods again. Putty in my hands.

  “Now kneel.”

  This time, she does as I direct.

  Chapter 6

  Maria

  What has come over me? If any other man told me to kneel in front of him, on the night that I met him, I’d tell him to fuck off. I’d refuse.

  If he told me twice, I’d call the cops.

  But now, as Hunter looks at me with his intense green eyes, promising to deliver more of the passion I’ve only gotten a glimpse of, I feel more than willing to follow his command.

  He has a power over me.

  Is this the same man that I’ve been spending time with, all evening?

  He was so sociable earlier. So quick to tell stories, ask me questions, and laugh with me. Now that we’re here, in his apartment, an intensity has come over him.

  But instead of running for the door, I’m intrigued.

  I like it.

  I enjoy the way he’s taken control. I enjoy doing as he asks me to do.

  Lowering myself down into a kneeling position before him, I feel myself becoming hot with desire. Warmth spreads from my lips, still moist from our kiss, down through my core. The warm tingling travels between my legs as Hunter reaches for the button on the fly of his jeans.

  I watch him unbutton his pants. Licking my lips, I feel excitement build inside of me as he moves his fingers to the zipper on his fly and he begins pulling it down, inch by inch. He’s given me a front-row seat to the show of a lifetime.

  He pulls his pants down, and I see his briefs are tented outward with his full erection. I can’t help it. I lick my lips again. I want to see more.

  I hear him groan softly, and then he says in a husky voice. “You’re mouth, Maria. God, it’s so sexy.”

  I play it up a bit, letting my tongue rest in the corner of my mouth and then circle upward and over to the other side. He groans again. His dick, inside his briefs, jerks up and down. He’s as aroused as I am.

  I know he’ll pull his briefs down in a moment, but I can’t wait. I reach my hands up to the elastic waistband and begin dragging them down over his rock-hard thighs until his erection springs free. It almost hits me in the face. It’s so big… It’s the biggest cock I’ve ever seen.

  I don’t know if it will fit in my mouth, but I’m willing to try.

  I reach forward and circle my hand around his girth. With my other hand, I keep dragging his briefs down, until they are around his ankles. His member is hot; I feel his pulse throb in the vein that runs along the base of his shaft.

  I lean in until my lips are touching his tip.

  I part my lips and start licking him. My tongue traces a small circle over his tip. The ridges of his skin feel so good under my tongue. I move my hand back and forth, slowly, as I circle my tongue around his tip.

  He groans again.

  He likes this.

  He’s so big. Can it fit?

  I move my hand out of the way and open my mouth. I’m planning on doing this slowly, taking in his length just a little bit at a time. But as soon as my mouth is open, he thrusts himself into me. His dick fills my mouth and presses back against my throat. A jolt of unexpected fire travels through my core.

  I feel myself become wet between the legs, and I moan without meaning to. The sound vibrates against his shaft. I’m stunned by the depth of my arousal.

  He places his hands on the back of my head and pulls out of me gently. I suck on him as he pulls out. His hands are resting on the back of my head, and I wait for him to push himself into me again. He doesn’t. But I’m hungry, desperate for more. I suck on him, looking up to meet his eyes while I do.

  The look on his face is animalistic. Gone is the man who laughed with me on the pier; his mouth is downturned with intense focus. He locks his eyes with mine while I suck him, harder, swirling my tongue around him.

  Then I open my mouth and invite him in again. He takes my invitation, thrusting into me fully. He applies slight pressure to the back of my head, guiding me forward as he thrusts.

  I feel myself moaning again. Usually, I don’t enjoy giving head this much. In the distant past—my college days—I did it just because I knew guys liked it. I didn’t like it, myself.

  But as Hunter fucks me in the mouth, I become wetter and wetter. My panties are becoming soaked just by giving this guy oral. If giving him a blowjob is this good, what’s going to happen in the bedroom?

  I learn that I’m soon going to find out. Hunter pulls out of me, leaving me gasping and fiery with lust. He holds out a hand and helps me off the ground. Without a word, he leads me through the spacious apartment.

  I barely notice my surroundings. I’m so turned on it’s difficult to walk. I want him inside me.

  We reach his bedroom, and he releases my hand. I reach down to slip off one of my heels. I want to be naked and underneath him as fast as possible. I need him.

  But at the sound of his voice, my hand stops working to free my heel. “Don’t,” he says sharply.

  “Don’t?” I repeat. I can hardly believe that he’s telling me not to get undressed. Not after what just happened in his living room.

  “I want you to leave your heels on.”

  “And I guess you always get what you want,” I say. I meant for it to be a joke, but my voice comes out weak and wobbly, not conveying humor as I intended. Instead, I’ve just delivered a statement of truth.

  “Shoes on, dress off,” he says.

  I release my grip on my shoe, leaving it on, and move my hands to the back of my dress instead. I pull down the zipper.

  “You’re very demanding, Hunter. Why should I do what you tell me to do?” I ask. This time, I try to sm
ooth the wobble from my voice. I don’t want him to know how deeply his controlling style is affecting me.

  “Because,” he says. “You know I can make you feel things no other man ever has, Maria.”

  The zipper reaches its end. My dress splits open in the back. I let it crack around me, opening up like a flower’s petals. The stiff fabric falls away from my chest and torso, and then hangs down around my waist, held up only by the curve of my hips.

  “All the way off,” he says.

  I shimmy a little bit, and the dress falls.

  “There. You’re a work of art. Perfect.” His eyes travel over my body.

  Under the study of his appreciative gaze, I feel like a work of art. I feel beautiful. The sexiest I’ve ever felt. Though I’ve always been my own worst critic when it comes to my body, in this instant, I love every one of my curves.

  He steps toward me and reaches out reverently as though he’s about to touch a marble sculpture, carved by a master.

  “You’ll leave this on tonight,” he says, sliding his hand over the sheer lace fabric of my strapless bra.

  My breath hitches in my throat as his hand passes over one nipple, and then the other. I feel my nipples stiffen, straining against the confines of the material.

  “Yes,” he says. “I like that. You’ll leave it on.” He may as well be ordering a glass of chardonnay off of a wine list.

  I gasp again as his hand travels down, over my navel, toward my panties.

  His fingers travel to the waistband. “These, however, are coming off.”

  My chest rises and falls as he speaks. I feel my nipples get harder; my pussy wetter. He places his palm over my mound with an air of ownership. I shiver with the contact.

  Please, I think internally. Fuck me now, Hunter.

  I can barely breathe. But he’s not done teasing me. He begins stroking me, through my lace panties. The fabric is damp, it clings to me. He strokes my clitoris through the thin, lace fabric and sensations inside of me build. I close my eyes, and my back arches. It’s difficult to stay balanced on my heels.

  He keeps stroking me, his touch feathery soft but excruciatingly good. I can’t stop the flood of sensations that are building inside of me.

  An aching sensation throbs between my legs. I need him inside of me. I need to feel the length of his massive dick—the cock that filled my mouth, minutes ago—inside of me.

  My body aches for release. It’s almost painful, how badly I want him. I’m so wet, and his hands work steadily. The friction of the fabric and his strong fingers against my most sensitive parts floods me with pleasure.

  I need to come. I can’t wait, but I won’t come just like this—just with the faintest touch from his skilled fingers. Impossible.

  Impossible.

  I moan louder. My body fills to bursting with need. I open my mouth and cry out, as the orgasm that’s been building comes crashing down around me. When I open my eyes, I see Hunter’s face before me. His eyes are shining.

  “Mmm,” he says. “You come easily.”

  “I didn’t know… I could.” I can barely speak.

  He chuckles.

  “We’re just getting started,” he says.

  His warm hands move to the sides of my panties, and I feel him pulling them down.

  My orgasm has left me feeling fuzzy, soft. The haze is pleasant. I feel almost like I’m dreaming.

  Hunter pulls my panties down. He lowers himself down while he pulls, and then, kneeling before me, helps me step out of them.

  He positions my legs so that they’re parted. He’s in front of me, on his knees. I can barely think straight. My head is spinning with the intensity of what I’ve just experienced.

  When his hot, wet tongue moves along my tender pussy, I let out a sharp exhale. “Oh, God,” I breathe. I didn’t know it would feel like this. I didn’t know anything could feel so good, so soon after an orgasm. I’ve always felt sore and spent, after coming—never ready for more.

  Maybe it is because he brought me over the edge with the smallest of movements—his finger, barely moving against my clit—that now this feels so delightful. I’m surprised to find that I’m ready for more. With the lapping of his tongue against my sex, I quickly find that my body responds as if the first orgasm never happened.

  Soon I’m crying out louder than before, exhaling ragged breaths and raking my fingers through his hair.

  “Oh, Hunter!” I cry.

  He probes his tongue further into me. I want more. I want his dick. Inside me. Now.

  “Please!” I say, shuddering as he pulls his tongue out and licks the length of me. “Please, please Hunter!”

  I’m squirming under his touch. I can barely stay on my feet. This is torture—the best kind.

  He refuses to give in to my begging.

  “Fuck me,” I cry. And then again, louder. I’m desperate. “Fuck me!”

  After another agonizing minute, just as the pressure between my legs threatens to end me, he pulls away.

  “Now who’s demanding?” he says, grinning.

  He lifts me up onto the bed, and to my great relief, crawls on top of me. His weight feels comforting—it holds the promise of the pounding that my body needs.

  He reaches to the nightstand for a foil-wrapped package and tears it open. As he rolls the condom over his shaft, he speaks. “What is it that you want, Maria?”

  “Fuck me,” I beg. I’m squirming beneath him. The condom fits snugly over his long dick. I know I’m going to finally feel the length of him inside of me. “Hard,” I add.

  “Hard?” he repeats.

  I nod, just as he lies down over me again. His arms are on either side of my head. I feel his dick hit the side of my thigh as he arranges himself.

  A moan of anticipation escapes my lips.

  “How hard?” he asks, just as I feel the tip of him press into me. He moves slowly, one agonizing millimeter at a time. Then he stops. He’s holding himself up, perfectly still.

  He’s driving me crazy.

  I can’t think straight. I can’t form words.

  “How hard, Maria?” he asks again.

  I move my hands to his lower back and lift my legs at the same time. I wrap my legs around him tightly. As my body moves, I’m pulling him deeper into me. My desperation is growing.

  “Hunter,” I moan. I need him to stop teasing me. I thrust my hips upward, trying to move him deeper inside of me. But my movement doesn’t satisfy the need that’s ripping like a tornado through me. I need him to move.

  Finally, finally, he thrusts into me. He watches me as he does.

  I feel my face contort with relief. I see him smile.

  “Like this, Maria?” he asks, though I know that he knows the answer.

  “Yes,” I groan.

  He thrusts again, harder.

  “Yes! Yes!” I cry out. My voice peaks at a high octave. If I didn’t know better, I would think that the screams were coming from another woman, not me. I’ve never made sounds like this before.

  I feel such intense relief as he finally gives me what I want. The bed rocks beneath us. I lose all sense of time and place. The world falls away, and in its place, I feel Hunter’s thrusts.

  His rhythm is steady and powerful. He slams into my hips, and my whole body moves up and down against the mattress.

  When I come, it’s bone-shattering. I feel myself breaking into a million pieces, shattering like glass beneath him. I feel him coming too—his body arches, stiffens, shutters.

  When he rolls off of me, I feel like a new person. I don’t know what just happened, but I know that it was good. I feel good.

  Satisfied as I’ve never been satisfied in my life.

  Whole, complete, content, and exhausted.

  Like a new woman.

  Brand new.

  Not only do I feel new and different on the inside, but the world around me looks new too. It’s as though I’d been wearing dark, dirty glasses for my entire life, and now suddenly I’ve taken them off fo
r the first time. The room seems to sparkle with a kind of sunlight, though it’s the middle of the night.

  Jemma was right. I was in a rut. And now, thanks to Hunter, I am officially out of it. Way, way out of it. I’ve popped into some kind of alternate universe. An image of myself, flying through the far reaches of outer space fills my mind as I drift off into a deep, heavy sleep.

  * * *

  When my eyes next open, they’re filled with sunlight. I blink rapidly, trying to figure out where I am. I see a skylight…an expansive white room, art-covered walls. A door, against one wall, and then a row of windows.

  The ocean.

  I feel soft, expensive sheets beneath me. Turning, I spot Hunter’s sleeping form, and the events of the night before sweep through my consciousness. A memory of crying out his name enters my mind, and I blush. I flip to my back and clutch the sheets to my chest as a blush heats my cheeks.

  Did that really happen?

  Yes, yes, I’m sure it did. I replay the events, moving backward in my mind over the evening.

  Before the best sex of my life, we were there, at the couch. Yes, I remember the way he told me to kneel. I remember how it felt to be ordered around. Before that, I remember him returning with the drinks. While he was getting them, I…no! I did, didn’t I? I took a watch, right out of his display case.

  Shit.

  That was wrong.

  He did say he was a billionaire. How many zeros is that? A lot. A thousand million, I think. Is it? He’s so rich, he couldn’t possibly miss one silly watch.

  Besides, I’ll probably never see him again.

  I reach a hand up and run it through my hair. A billionaire. I just had a one-night stand with a fucking billionaire! But still, it was wrong to take the watch. I have to put it back—before he gets up.

  I get out of the bed as quietly as possible and then pad across the floor on my tiptoes. As I reach the foot of the bed, I spot my black and white dress. It’s lying on the floor, along with a pair of pathetically crumpled up panties. I’m wearing just a bra. I’m not sure where my heels are—maybe tangled up in the blankets somewhere? I can’t look for them now. I have to find my purse and get that damn watch out of it.