by Ava Lore
Cool air caressed my skin, and my nipples hardened inside my bra.
“Ask.”
Another command. I wracked my brain. His stare was distracting, discomfiting. How could I concentrate when he was standing so close, watching me like a wolf eying a spring lamb?
“What were your parents like?” It was all I could think of.
Again his eyes tightened, and this time they didn't relax. “Remove your bra.”
Reaching behind me, I did as I was told. The straps slid down my arms and I tossed it to the floor and stood before him, naked from the waist up. Only jeans, panties, and a pair of low heels kept me from him now.
His hand floated out, hovering in the air between us. Large and warm, it cupped one breast, and I let out a sigh.
“I didn't know my parents,” he said. “Kick off those heels.”
I did so.
“Ask.”
“Where did you grow up?”
Rough fingers turned me around so that my back was to him. “Take off those jeans.”
My hands were numb. I could hardly think straight. I felt him hovering behind me, a vast presence that could not be held by his physical body. I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down over my hips. They pooled on the floor and I stepped out of them.
“Didn't I say you were not to wear panties?” he asked from behind me.
All the hair on my body stood on end. I'd forgotten, or I hadn't thought he was serious. I should have known better.
“Take them off.”
No, I thought. No, I am important, too.
“Where did you grow up?” I asked him again. I had to force my hands to stay at my sides, even though every bell in my head was ringing. Fight or flight. Fuck or flee.
He took his sweet damn time. “Florida,” he finally said. “Now. Remove your panties.”
For a moment I hesitated. He needed me to obey him. He needed to be in control at all times. Even when he was bargaining away his secrets, he had to have that illusion. If I put on my clothes right now, what would he do?
I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties and pushed them down.
A hand alighted on my back as they reached the floor, before I could straighten again.
“On your hands and knees,” he said.
Licking my lips, I did so. The wood of the floor bit into my skin, but I lowered myself to the ground and assumed the position he required. Naked, my bare ass pointed at him. I was staring at the door that led to the bathroom, and outside the sounds of traffic were still loud on the street.
I heard him move behind me, and then his warm, thick fingers were working their way between my thighs, cupping my sex. He stroked his index finger up my slit and I moaned.
“Ask.”
Fuck. How can I think about anything but this? I fought through the fog of arousal.
“Who raised you?”
His hand on me stilled, and I knew I had struck something inside him.
He retreated, and I wanted to bite my tongue off. Rustling came from behind me and curiosity burned a hole through my head, but I didn't dare look at him. I knew instinctively that I had pushed him further than he was willing to go.
Something cool and leather slipped around my throat, then tightened and I inhaled sharply.
A collar.
He'd collared me like a dog.
I guess he could have a dog and fuck it, too. Goddammit.
The snap of a clip closing, and a sinuous slither of leather caressed my back. Then he tugged on the leash, and I felt a dark wave of pleasure swell up inside.
“I raised me, Felicia,” he whispered. “And I think we are at the end of our questions for today.”
It didn't matter. I couldn't breathe. The collar around my throat seemed to be directly connected to the pleasure center of my brain. My pussy heated and quivered, knowing I was at his mercy. Almost lazily, he dipped a finger inside me, and I clenched around it, aching for him to fill me.
A sudden buzz sounded through the room, and I started, suddenly brought out of the spell Anton had cast over me. Behind me and in me, Anton froze at the sound, then began to move his hand again, crooking his finger and stroking it against my upper walls. My toes curled and my arms collapsed beneath me.
“Just the doorbell,” he said softly as I pressed my forehead to the wood floor, panting.
The buzz came again.
Clearly determined to ignore it, Anton slipped another finger inside me. He scissored his fingers, pressing against my walls, opening me, preparing me for his invasion. I ached, wet and hot for him, every nerve alive.
A third buzz.
Anton stiffened, then, to my despair, he withdrew. I heard him stand.
“Stay there,” he commanded. “If I find you have moved while I was out of the room, you will be punished.”
Punished. I liked the sound of that. Wait, no I didn't.
Yes, I did.
Damn Anton and his magic cock.
I watched from my position on the floor as he strolled at a leisurely pace out of the room. I heard him descend the stairs. Below us, I knew, he kept an office. I was betting he had a camera set up there to see who was calling.
What would he do when he came back? Would he take me from behind? Would he lead me around like a dog? Would I like it?
Oh, who was I kidding? I knew I would. I could say no any time I wanted to. I just hadn't reached that point yet. Anton took me places I never knew existed.
My pussy pulsed and I had to fight to keep my hands on the wood floor next to my face. I was certain moving to ease the pleasurable pain he had inspired was against the rules.
Then again, I was a bit curious about that punishment...
I never got a chance to try it out, because the buzzer of the doorbell sounded again, and this time it didn't let up.
Heavy feet stomped up the stairs, and when Anton entered the room his face was murderous. Flipping a switch on the wall, harsh light flooded the room, and I blinked.
“Get up,” he said. “Put some clothes on. We have a visitor that we can't turn away.”
Confused, I did as he bade me. The touch of fabric to my skin made me jumpy, but I did my best to make myself presentable, though the seam of my jeans against my bare slit—taking Anton's words to heart, I stuffed my panties in my pocket—was almost too much to bear. When I was done, Anton removed the collar and led me back down the stairs to the garden floor. The doorbell was still buzzing. Whoever was ringing it was not to be dissuaded easily.
Anton opened the door.
There on the steps stood a woman with long dark hair and large dark eyes, in her mid-fifties. She was well-preserved, but the last time I had seen her there had been more meat on her bones. Her cheeks were thin, and she seemed lost inside the classic pea coat I remembered her wearing ever since I was a little girl. Behind her, my father hovered, looking older than ever.
Oops, I thought. Word travels really fast.
“Felicia,” the woman said, and threw herself into my arms and began to sob.
“Oh,” I said. “Hello, mother.”
* * *
To be continued in Bartered Passion: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 6!
About the Author
Ava Lore was raised by wombats and lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing erotic romance, she spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced coffee to kill a musk ox.
Discover more titles by Ava Lore at Smashwords.com.
You can email Ava Lore at [email protected]. She yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans. Want more BBW? More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let her know!
Other Titles by Ava Lore
The Billionaire's Wife: A Reluctant BDSM Erotic Romance
Bartered Proposal: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 1
Bartered Seduction: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 2
Bartered Bride: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 3
&nbs
p; Bartered Desire: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 4
Maddy Takes A Memo (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
Maddy Calls A Meeting (BBW Billionaire Menage Erotica)
Her Alien Abductor: Galactic Concubine, Part 1 (Alien Erotica)
Table of Contents
Bartered Submission: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 5 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)
Part V
Midpoint
