She gasped as he thrust deep, then again, and again, until he was pounding in and out so fast she could hardly breathe. His breath ragged. Stone held her hips tight so she couldn’t move and he leaned back holding his cock deep in her. He moaned as he ejaculated in her. She could feel his cock pulsing as he came. Then he collapsed onto her, his body wet with perspiration. He kissed the back of her neck and ears. Then he rolled off her. Coco sighed with pure pleasure.
Before she barely caught her breath, she was grabbed around the waist. Stone leaned back on his hands, letting go of her, and Heath lifted her off of Stone and into his arms. He swung her up so she lay across his arms, and then he lifted her core to his lips and licked her clitoris. Coco screamed again.
After a few more teasing licks, he lowered her back down and strode over to the red upholstered arm chair. He sat down and had her stand before him and turn around. Then he pulled her hips down until she was sitting on him, his hard cock inside her. He wrapped his hand in her hair and held it tight. She bounced up and down on his cock, groaning, so overwhelmed by her orgasm. It was way beyond her control now. Her breast lifted high then slammed down and shook with each pounce down on him. He let go of her hair and held her hips. Stone was there in front of her now. He looked at her and stroked his member. Coco’s pleasure was continuous. His body and his member were so hard and Heath’s was inside her now, driving her passion.
Heath let out a moan, holding her down on him, and released into her, thrusting his hips up and holding her there. His manhood felt like it pulsated as he released into her. Coco’s head fell back. She arched backwards against his shoulder. When his hands left her hips she sat straight and got up off of him, her head swimming with the techno beat and her over-stimulated body.
Suddenly silence fell. The techno music had stopped. The lights came up a bit.
And now all she heard was the sound of clapping, slow clapping. Coco’s cheeks reddened, realizing that she had lost herself in passion, forgotten why was she was doing it, and even ignored that they were being watched.
Chapter 4
Mr. Fawcett spoke, “Very good show. You can go now, boys.” And he walked out of a door behind his chair and shut it with a thud. Coco turned back to Stone and Heath, but they were gone already. She was stunned by the abrupt end and the fast departure of Heath and Stone. Her frantic eyes searched the room for her shoes and her clothes. She felt as naked as she was, fully nude with only a mask to hide behind in the big empty room.
“Put those clothes back on and come in here,” Mr. Fawcett commanded her over the loud speaker. Coco gathered up the scattered clothes. Her blouse and underwear were torn to ribbons so she had no choice but to wear only the pink skirt and the white linen jacket. She buttoned it up as best she could, but all her cleavage showed. Could she really have any modesty in front of him now anyway? She left the stockings, but picked up her stilettos, slipped them on her feet and buckled the straps around her ankles. With trepidation and shock over what had just taken place, she went into the room where Mr. Fawcett sat behind the mirror.
“Take off the mask and put it there,” he commanded motioning to the table with his chin. She did. Her face was blank. She refused to show him any more emotion.
“Here is your script. I need you to be a good actress now. You’ve put on one hell of a show so far tonight. I know you won’t disappoint,” he said eyeing her in a peculiar way.
What now? Coco thought. She read what was on the paper then looked back up at the billionaire. Her eyes narrowed on him. She would gladly play this part, even though she was surprised again at Mr. Fawcett’s proclivities.
She shot him an angry glare and stomped a stiletto clad foot.
“Nicky, what are you doing here?” she said acting the part he wanted.
“Nothing Mrs. Macy,” he replied as if a boy. Now Coco understood the outfit he made her wear. They were the kind of clothes that this neighbor of his or whoever she was must have worn when he was caught peeping.
“Have you been spying on me?” she questioned. Her tone was firm but sexy.
“No,” he said meekly. And Coco could see his cock that was out of his pants, rising.
“You’ve been naughty, haven’t you? You’ve been a bad boy,” Coco asked firmly. She didn’t mind this bit. She’d been dying to yell at him.
“Yes. I’ve been real bad,” he replied unable to hide his excitement.
“You know what I do to bad boys, Nicky?” she put the question out there.
“No, Mrs. Macy,” he replied softly.
“I give them a spanking,” she answered. Coco glanced down further in her script with wide eyes. “Take down your pants, Nicky, and bend over. “
He complied right away. Coco stood there looking at this man who was so powerful, rich enough to save her husband, and got ready to spank him. There was a paddle on the table. She took it in her hand, gripping the wooden handle tightly. His white ass was there in front of her, his pants pushed down to his ankles onto his Italian leather loafers. Coco was ready. She drew her hand back to get a good swing in and smack; the paddle cracked down on his butt hard. She tried to ignore it but this turned her on. She never expected it to.
And it was working for Mr. Fawcett, too. He was touching himself, rubbing faster and harder with each smack to his butt.
“You’re bad, Nicky. So bad.” She swatted him, taking out all her aggression, until his butt was bright red, and his cock was ready to finish up. Coco felt the pull of desire. She watched his hand moving, then the quiver of his whole body as he released groaning.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Macy. I won’t do it again,” he said with ragged breath. This was her cue to stop the paddling; his “safe word” as indicated in the script. Coco gave him one more swat anyway.
“See that you don’t. I wouldn’t be so nice next time.” Coco’s eyes were cold even if she was turned on. There was nothing else written on the paper.
“Yes, Ma’am,” he said. Then he stood up, pulled his pants up, and sat back down. Coco shifted in her shoes, put the paper and the paddle down on the table, and waited uncomfortably for what was next.
After a few minutes, he regained his composure.
“Put the mask back on,” he demanded. Coco nodded and averted her eyes from the same steady cocky stare that reclaimed his face as if what had just transpired never happened.
“Be here tomorrow night at one,” he told her. She nodded confirming that she would come.
The door from the corridor opened and the fat man entered and motioned for her to leave. He led her down the corridor to the room with her clothes.
“Knock when you’re ready to go,” the man said in a bored tone. This must be a routine thing around there, she realized. It was shocking to know that this sort of thing went on, and she wondered what else was to come.
When the door was shut behind her she tore off the jacket, the skirt, and the red mask, and threw them on the bench. Coco was gone. She’d leave her there with the mask. Claire had her black shell on in an instant and rapped on the door for the fat man to show her the way out. Her shoes clacked over the floor as she walked rapidly through the hidden hallways.
Trying to suppress all that happened, she packaged it in her memory, and detached herself from it. She had to so she could bear what she’d done. She held in her feelings, not only of the violation and the choice she had in the matter, but of the worse realization that she had enjoyed some of it, a lot of it.
That was enough of that. She refused to think this way. It was what she had to do for Daniel, and her guilt was not important. That was something she would just have to live with.
She forced her psyche to change the memory. It wasn’t her. It was Coco Blue. She had just seen it all, like a movie. Like Mr. Fawcett had.
Outside her car was waiting, running with the keys in it. She strode to the driver’s side door, got in, and drove off with her chin up and her jaw square. She could do this. No matter what it took. She resolved not to be broken,
not to be jaded by this. He was going to get her husband back for her. She would do whatever he demanded.
Mr. Fawcett’s words replayed in her head: “All you have to do is satisfy my needs until you earn the 800,000 grand. If you don’t, then the deal is broken. “
Claire drove into her driveway and parked. Something caught her eye as she started to step out of the car. A metal briefcase was on the backseat. She got out, opened the door and popped the briefcase open. She laid the cover back. Inside was cash. She picked it up and examined it. $350,000. Was that what he felt this night was worth?
She snapped the case shut feeling exhausted and more than a little daunted. She had $450,000 more to earn and no way of knowing what else Mr. Fawcett had in store for her.
Claire showered, climbed into bed wearing Daniels’s shirt, and, as she laid there in her lonely bed, stared at the darkened ceiling until finally she fell asleep, and dreamt he was there beside her.
The End
Claire and the Billionaire Series
BOOK ONE Wicked While He Watches: The Billionaire’s Secret
BOOK TWO Wicked For Him: The Billionaire’s Fantasy
Lost Diary Press
Copyright 2012. Mercedes Eva Nordstrom
Cover photo of the masked woman by Igor Borodin. Canstockphoto
Wicked While He Watches -The Billionaire's Secret (Claire and the Billionaire) Page 3
