In Service To The Billionaire

by Heather Chase

  Oh. Oh my. Was she doing that now? A hot flush slid up her neck.

  “Come here,” he said, beckoning her with his fingers. “I want us to make up.”

  She wanted to. Oh god, she wanted to so bad.

  “I...” she swallowed. “I don’t know that that’s such a good idea now.”

  He smiled, as if she was joking. “Oh? And why not?”

  “I just...it’s my fiancé. He’s home, now. And I want...I want to try to be with him.”

  His eyes widened. He looked as if he was going to speak, and then he closed his mouth.

  Walking over to the edge of his office, he shook his head. His hands placed firmly behind his back.

  “You have a fiancé.”

  Her voice was very small. “Yes.”

  “You had some plan, I assume, for telling me this?”

  “Yes.”

  “And this was not how you wanted it?”

  “No. I don’t know.” Tears sparkled in her brilliant green eyes. “Sir, I am so, so sorry. I was just flying by autopilot. You were so hot, and so good, but you really scared me and I still love him and I don’t know what to do...I’m sorry, Sir. I really am.”

  Several times, he opened his mouth. Angry responses, sad responses, demanding responses. She saw them form on his face and then be thrown away—not good enough.

  Finally, he said, “Am I still your Master, Sophia?”

  He was going straight to the heart of the matter. Her heart burst with need. Oh god—she wanted to say yes with all that she had! She wanted to drop down to her knees and beg his forgiveness.

  He was everything to her, everything!

  Except...except he wasn’t. There was still such a large part of her that lived a different way. And there was so much inertia there that was hard to overcome. How much momentum did it take to reject a whole life lived a certain way?

  Was it more momentum than she could muster? Drawing her shoulders in and hunching down, she tried to make herself as small as possible—smaller than she already felt in his commanding presence.

  Sand looked perturbed by her lack of response.

  “I’d like you to kiss me, Sophia.”

  Slowly, silently, she shook her head, not able to look him in the eyes.

  He faced her completely and pushed his jacket open. Then, he unzipped the fly to his pants.

  “This is your very last chance, Sophia. Slave.” His voice gnawing over that last word. “Do as I say. Come over here, and suck me off, obediently, like a good girl. And I’ll forget any of this ever happened. I’ll know you’re my good slave. I’ll know you’ll forget all about this fiancé of yours—who I’m sure doesn’t deliver what you want. What you need. You’ll be punished fairly, in a way I promise you’ll enjoy. But you have to come here, now.”

  Sophia took a deep, painful breath. She blinked back several tears.

  “I’m so sorry, Ma—” she stopped. “Mister Sand. I’m so sorry. But I can’t. I can’t. I have to try with my fiancé I’m so, so sorry. You were so good to me. So incredible. You’re so...so wonderful. But I can’t.”

  He looked embarrassed now. Truly surprised. For a moment, despair crossed over his handsome features—and she thought he might actually cry. She had never felt worse about herself or anything in her life than she did at that moment. Then, rage replaced his anguish...and then a cool, calm mask slipped over that.

  The control, he had. For Sand, everything was about control.

  “Fine, then,” turning his back. “Be a whore for him. See if I care.”

  It was such a childish thing to say—that “see if I care.” She knew she had pained him. Her soul screamed in anguish at causing this beautiful, complicated man any hurt at all. She felt like she was burning a stained glass window.

  “I c-can...I’ll understand if you want to fire me...” she began.

  “No. I can’t fire you, as you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re following your silly little heart around. Do not color me surprised. But do not expect advancement here, ever. Nor should you expect any help with your friend’s hospital bills.”

  “But you said—”

  “I said I would do anything for my slave.” He looked up from his paperwork. “You don’t really fit the description anymore, do you? Maybe send your friend in to suck my cock. I’m sure she could do as good a job as you. Any woman could, really.”

  With that, she ran out of the room, rushing to the bathroom. And for the first time since being hired and setting about her elaborate plan to solve her entire life, she didn’t touch herself, her mind wasn’t on fire with lust. All she wanted to do—and all she did—was break down and cry.

  Chapter 21

  A week later—after a few earnest dates that quickly picked up to her and Todd's former intensity—Todd moved in with her.

  It was a decision made by both of them, and they were both happy about it.

  Sophia was happy about the decision. She was. In a couple of weeks, they would re-plan the wedding. She could use lots of the same old materials. Her wedding dress definitely still fit.

  It was early in the evening on Monday when Todd arrived, holding just a couple of boxes. She took them out of his hands and set them down on the porch. Having spent the whole day with Sand's constant anger, she was quietly desperate to lose herself in something good. So, wanting to make Todd feel like a man and give him a happy homecoming welcome, she leapt into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, pressing her mouth against his.

  He entertained this for all of about two seconds.

  “Hey babe, come on,” he said, putting her down. “Not in public, yeah?”

  Still smiling, she tugged him along, burying her face in his neck and delivering soft little kisses.

  In the glass reflection of his nearby car, though, she caught a glimpse of his face—apologetic, he looked like.

  “I’m sorry,” his look said. “I just don’t know what’s gotten into this girl. Maybe you could tell me?”

  Struggling with everything she had, she tried not to think of how Sand would never think such things.

  Sand would own her, right there in front of the house. He would take her by the shoulder and guide her down while he fucked her face. The back of her head knocking against the nearby trashcan. Passers-by tripping over her heels, gaping at his complete control over her body.

  Sand would turn her inside out with need before fucking her proper like she deserved.

  No. No. She couldn’t focus on that.

  She had to focus on Todd. He was important. He was her man, now. He...he always had been.

  “Let's just get me moved inside, yeah?”

  He picked up his boxes and she followed him up, admiring the cute curve of his butt.

  Once inside, Sophia again tried to kiss him...and again, fastidiously, Todd pushed her away after only a few seconds.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “I’m just so hungry, is all. I hope that’s okay.”

  “No, of course,” she said. “Eat, eat! There's pasta leftover in the fridge?”

  That sounded great to him. As he ate, she listened to him regale her with stories from his trip. He had traveled all over Germany, France, Italy, and Belgium as well as Spain, a couple of days in each place.

  Finally, though, he finished eating. He stood up then, and held his hand out.

  “Come here,” he said.

  He kissed her roughly, holding her tight. Now that was more like it. She didn’t even know Todd had it in him.

  Taking her down the hall to the bed, his lips stayed on hers. For several hot, wonderful moments, their breaths moved in tandem.

  He pushed her on the bed and stripped off her pants. Then, grinning, he slipped down between her legs.

  “Oh, baby,” she moaned.

  Grunting happily, he began to lap at her pussy just like he used to. Oh god, that was nice. He was so fucking good at that.

  His tongue slid up and down around her hot clit. Up and down, up and down, making a perfec
t hot rhythm.

  “Please get inside me,” she moaned. “Please do it...please. Please!”

  With an appreciative growl, Todd finished his licking and climbed up on her body. Finally he entered her. His strokes were fast, frequent, almost desperate.

  But, they were both so excited from the foreplay that he lasted only a few minutes before cumming hard inside of her.

  “Good?”

  She moaned happily, so glad to have given her man pleasure. It was, she thought fervently, very good. It had to be good.

  He was her man, now.

  * * * * *

  Hours later, late in the evening, Sophia stared at her lovely form, wondering what she could do to improve.

  She was going to make this work with Todd. She didn’t care how it happened. There was a solution, somewhere, and she was dedicated to finding it and pursuing it with everything she had.

  So. While Todd lounged down on the couch, decompressing after his welcoming and the unpacking of his boxes, she made ready.

  She put on her hottest pair of lingerie that she could find—that she hadn’t put on for Sand, of course.

  Red, she picked red. That was romantic, right?

  Her long legs were covered in sexy lace stockings with roses sewn into the material. The bra had fluffy, lace roses as well—the kind that made the bra impossible to wear in any kind of outfit, as they would stick through the material of a top. It was purely made to wear for lingerie, purely made for fucking. Her panties were white and red, the same as the bra.

  And, not able to resist trying just a bit, she slipped a red silk collar on. It had a gold ring that fit over the nape of her neck. Distantly, she imagined Todd tugging her by it.

  She looked at herself in the mirror—gorgeous. Her dark glossy hair contrasted sexily with the lingerie. He wouldn’t be able to resist her...she hoped.

  “Babe?” he called. “Can you grab me a beer?”

  She arrived, sliding one hand up the doorway. “I can, if that’s what you really want.”

  Sophia did her best to use her sexy voice, the one that advertised sex just almost as much as her outfit did.

  “It is,” he said. “That’s why I said it. So can you—”

  He stopped, looking at her.

  “Oh,” said Todd, eyes wide. “Man. Wow. That is...hello.”

  “Hello,” she purring, strutting away from the door to move toward him. “I want to fuck my husband-to-be,” she moaned in his ear, bending over at the waist. “I want to fuck him so bad. I need to.”

  “Yeah,” he breathed. “God. Yeah. You're so hot.”

  It pained her to be so clear about what she wanted—but she couldn’t stand the thought of his slow, anxious lovemaking at that moment. All she wanted was dick—given to her furious, hard, and fast.

  Taking heart from his mention of his willingness to be dominant, she continued her path.

  He stood up again, taking her back to the bad just how he had before.

  Sliding down to go down on her, he kissed her tanned thighs once more.

  “W-wait,” she said, a little reluctant to stop his hot licking abilities. “Couldn’t you...I mean...would you fuck my mouth, instead? You know...dominate me?”

  “You don’t like it when I lick you?”

  “No, I mean...yes. I love it! It’s just...I really want my man to fuck my mouth.”

  He grinned. “Don’t have to tell me twice, babe.”

  She pushed herself backwards on the bed for him, so that he could grab the headboard as he needed. Crawling up over on top of her ample breasts, he slipped his cock into her mouth.

  He slipped in and out, in and out. His length was thick and meaty. The taste, salty, like good sweat. Hot and filling.

  Desperately, she wanted to feel him spank her, somehow. Or slap her tits. Just lightly—at first. Just a bit. Maybe she could work him up to it.

  Just as she had worked up the courage to ask, though, he slipped out of her mouth and down her body.

  “I’d like to fuck you proper, now.”

  “Yes,” she breathed, trying her best to sound enthused.

  Quickly, unceremoniously, he moved down and slipped inside of her. He was very hard already—and only getting harder. His thrusts were quick—unskilled, but vigorous.

  “Can you...can you call me a slut?” she panted. “Dominate me?”

  It pained her, truly, to ask again. But she had to.

  He nodded, closing his eyes. “Okay, yeah. You slut.”

  Sophia sighed. His heart clearly wasn’t in it.

  “Come on, slut.” He said, his thrusts increasing. “You like that? You like how I fuck?”

  That was...that was better.

  “Yes, Sir,” she chanced, grinding her hips up. “I like how my Sir fucks.”

  “Good slut,” he groaned, his thrusts getting even more vigorous.

  “Oh Sir...Sir,” she moaned, getting excited now that so much had gone so well.

  There was something she needed to say—something she needed to call out to him. It was hovering right around her thoughts, like a hawk waiting to swoop down.

  “Yeah,” he grunted, his hands pushing up on her body, on her tits and even further up. “My girl. My slut.”

  Her eyes opened wide as his fingers slid up near her throat, and her breath caught hard on the edges of her mouth.

  Oh god. That was it. That was what she had been trying to think of. That was what she wanted to say.

  Choke me.

  The words were just sliding out of her mouth, just building up enough pressure to enter into the realm of sound, when Todd, frustrated, shook his head and pulled out.

  There was nothing—nothing—worse than that. Sophia could not imagine a bigger form of teasing—and from her fiancé, too!

  “Wh-what's wrong?” she asked, gasping a bit.

  He shook his head, sliding out to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry. I’m not as good at this as I thought. I guess it is all too weird for me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “It’s just too...out there, you know? Like, next thing you know, you’d be asking me to choke you or something, like some crazy person.”

  “Y-yeah,” she said shakily. “That would be...totally crazy.”

  Crazy.

  This is what her fiancé thought of her. Sophia lay down on one side and let out a long sigh. Todd put an arm around her, but she barely noticed it.

  She tried to rationalize, tried to make it all work. This would work. It had to. It was hers. She would make it work.

  A marriage wasn’t entirely about sex, after all. They had a good thing going. They loved each other.

  It didn’t have to be about all hot, furious sex all the time.

  Right?

  Chapter 22

  A few days after Todd moved in, on Friday morning, Julie finally cornered her at work, in the break room. Sophia was busy preparing coffee for Sand, now an easy expert in the French Press.

  “I’ve noticed some...unpleasantness between you and Mr. Sand, as of late.”

  Julie's hands were together, fingers balancing on each other precariously.

  “Have you?” Sophia raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure that’s just your imagination.”

  With a laugh, Julie pshawed. “I’ve been in the business world for over thirty years, my dear. I don’t have much of an imagination anymore.”

  Sophia's temper was too short for this kind of bullshit right now.

  “Even if something was happening, Julia? Unless Sand told you, or unless I tell you, then it’s none of your business, is it?”

  Julia turned and huffed. “I suppose not.”

  Sophia watched her walk off, heart heavy. Ugh. Julie was probably just trying to help. Sophia made a mental note to apologize later. Her ability to deal with people giving her any kind of grief or advice had seriously deteriorated ever since Todd moved in.

  Sand wasn't helping. All communications with the billionaire had broken down into a serie
s of one-word interactions.

  Coffee? Yes.

  Papers? Here.

  When? Now.

  Good? Bad.

  She slipped into his office only when necessary.

  One such necessary time was to prepare his office for working out. Of course, that day, he made it back earlier than usual, as he had started to usually do ever since she split with him. The “of course” part was that she suspected he wanted her seeing his perfect, chiseled, Olympian body.

  Todd was in good shape, no slouch at all. But he didn't have Sand's body—didn't have abs that could shred a watermelon.

  Taking off his clothes quickly, as always, Sand nodded at Sophia.

  “I ran into your fiancé earlier.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “You ran into him?”

  “Yes. It was the most serendipitous thing. We were both running on the same trail in the park.”

  More likely, she imagined, is that he hired some surveillance on Todd to find out where he ran and then just so happened to be there when he was also.

  Sand slipped down on the mat on the ground, starting to do push-ups.

  “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

  “No.”

  Sophia was taken aback. “What?”

  He paused between push-ups. “You asked me to forgive you. I don’t. There’s only one of us here with a proven track-record of lying through her teeth, isn’t there?”

  Sophia set her jaw. “Fine. You met him.”

  “I did.” Sand smiled cruelly, continuing his exercise. He moved on to sit-ups. “Do you know what he did, friendly guy that he is? He invited me over to dinner.”

  Dread, low and suddenly constant, sank into Sophia’s belly. “What?”

  “Saturday night. Tomorrow.” Sit up after sit up, Sand kept going. He was tireless. “Normally, I would have said no...I have to function this, charity that, you know how it goes. But gosh, he made it seem so appealing. You're such a great cook, he says.”

  There was a blow. Sand had wanted her to cook for him.

  “I know your entire schedule,” she protested. “You’re busy tomorrow night. You have a flight to Miami.”