His Every Desire: A Billionaire Seduction

Home > Contemporary > His Every Desire: A Billionaire Seduction > Page 15
His Every Desire: A Billionaire Seduction Page 15

by Krista Lakes

Gordon didn’t stay put for very long. "I’m going to clean up a bit and let you two finish before dessert,” he said. “Call me if you need anything."

  "Of course. Thank you again." Tracy took another bite of ravioli and resisted the urge to moan with delight.

  Gordon grabbed three pans and ducked out of view on his way to the large dish washing area. When he was gone, Mr. Hayes’ hand returned, though further up this time.

  "And what do you think you’re doing, sir?" Despite her tone, Tracy was smiling from ear to ear. Even so, she wasn’t about to relinquish control. She grabbed his hand and pressed it down against the hot, soft flesh of her inner thigh. Mr. Hayes leaned in to her so that she could whisper to him, "So you know what would please me, Mr. Hayes?"

  He didn’t answer.

  "It would please me," she continued, "if you gave me something that I have always wanted."

  She moved his hand up so that his fingers formed a cup around her the tiny triangle of silk at her entrance. Deep down, maybe she knew all along that the night wasn’t going to be about only food.

  "You know that I'll buy you anything you want," Mr. Hayes replied through erratic breaths.

  She pressed his palm against her pussy and rocked her hips.

  "You know, it’s not always something that you can just go out and buy," she murmured.

  "Then what is it? Please," he begged and forced the heel of his palm against the very top of her slit. "You know that I'll give you anything."

  Hearing him like that, the way that he so desperately needed her, made the adrenaline in Tracy’s body begin to flow. Her hands and feet started to tingle and her heart rate jumped. She leaned back and reached her free hand into the top of her dress, massaging her own breast and moaning softly. Mr. Hayes was growing more tense with every second that passed. She could feel it in the way that his fingers strained to feel her without moving the fabric to the side.

  Tracy thought back to the way that Gordon had looked at her at the beginning of the night, the way that his eyes wandered over her without regard for Mr. Hayes, who had been standing right behind her the whole time. She closed her eyes and replayed it in her mind while her lover’s rocking palm continued to work her beneath the fine wood table top.

  It was becoming harder and harder for her to stay quiet.

  "Please," he begged again in a whisper. “Tell me what would please you.”

  Tracy turned her head to the side and opened her eyes, locking them with the pleading stare of her captive billionaire. He was, as so many times before, like putty in her hands.

  "I want both of you to fuck me," she groaned. The idea of being with two men had always been a fantasy, but with the way Gordon looked at her, tonight seemed like an actual opportunity.

  Mr. Hayes’ hand didn’t miss a beat.

  "Anything," he answered. She figured that he had been prepared for this for some time, ever since she had given him the night of his life with Jenna Tice.

  Tracy reached over to the throbbing erection in his slacks and stroked it only twice. Her touch made him whimper like a puppy.

  "Good," she said and pushed his hand off of her. "I think we'll both enjoy it."

  Not a moment later, Gordon came back around the corner with a tart pan in his hand.

  "Ready for dessert?" he asked, oblivious to what had just happened seconds before.

  Tracy glanced over to Mr. Hayes. He nodded. "I’m ready."

  If Gordon knew anything about what was going on, he showed no signs of it. Instead, he went right back to work slicing the fruit-studded pastry with a long, sharp knife.

  "Finally, I made a Tahitian vanilla custard tart with seasonal fruits and almond whipped cream. I've been told it's better than sex.” He paused, watching her reaction.

  Tracy licked her lips and watched as Gordon's pupils dilated once again. He glanced at her chest and the quickly looked away as he remembered that Mr. Hayes was there as well.

  “As you can see, much of this can be prepared ahead of time, meaning that we can have it up, out, and fresh in almost no time at all." He served up three plates of food as if nothing had just happened.

  After one more cursory check of the kitchen to make sure that everything was turned off (including the glaring lights), Gordon finally took his seat next to Tracy. It was substantially darker in the room, but there was just enough light to illuminate the table, the kitchen’s tangle of equipment throwing strange-looking shadows onto the opposite wall.

  As soon as he sat down, Gordon could tell that the mood in the room had shifted while he was gone. He looked over at Tracy and Mr. Hayes, who looked a little distant.

  "Is everything okay?" Gordon asked, his handsome face concerned.

  Tracy, finished a bite of the sweet treat and licked a little bit of custard off of the end of her spoon. She knew that both of the men were watching her carefully, and it made the sweet spot between her thighs start to moisten and tingle.

  "Actually, everything has been great, Mr. Baxter," she assured him.

  Hearing her address him in the same manner as Mr. Hayes made Gordon pause.

  Tracy leaned just slightly closer to him and whispered, "Except for one thing."

  "What’s that?" he asked.

  She stood up and slipped the top of her dress down. Once it was past her shoulders, it fluttered all the way down to the floor, leaving her in nothing but a matching red set of sheer lingerie and stockings. Gordon’s eyes widened like saucers.

  "I was thinking that you might want to taste something that I prepared for you."

  His eyes darted between her nearly-naked body and Mr. Hayes, who was still seated right behind her. When the two men’s eyes met, Mr. Hayes made a slight nod, giving his silent approval.

  “This is a one time offer, Mr. Baxter. My lady requests it, and what she wants, she gets,” Mr. Hayes said after a moment. Still, Gordon was frozen in his seat.

  Tracy, seeing his apprehension, knew what she needed to do. She walked over to him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and straddled his lap. The swelling in his cock was already apparent, even through the thick material of his work pants.

  She rocked her hips forward and bit her lip.

  "It’s okay, Mr. Baxter. I’ve seen the way that you look at me." She grabbed his hands and placed them onto her hips. "I noticed the way your eyes couldn’t help themselves earlier tonight."

  "I… I mean...” Gordon's glance darted to Mr. Hayes again, still unsure that this was really happening.

  “Do you want this?” Tracy asked, letting him look. She felt beautiful and sexy with the way his pupils dilated and his mouth opened.

  He nodded.

  “Then please her,” Mr. Hayes commanded.

  Tracy leaned forward and pressed her breasts onto Gordon's face. She could feel him take in a deep breath of her while his fingers slowly clamped down onto her soft skin. The sensation of him warming up to the idea was palpable and exciting. Slowly but steadily, his fingers crept up the soft curves of her sides to just below where her bra sat. He wrapped his hands around her and tightened, forcing his hot face deeper into her.

  She groaned as he began to kiss his way out of her sexual embrace. Gordon traveled up from between her breasts and nibbled the spot near the base of her neck.

  Watching them closely from his seat, Mr. Hayes shifted and caught Tracy’s eye. For a moment, she had been lost in her talented chef’s touch.

  "Can you help me, Mr. Hayes?" she asked sweetly.

  He stood up and started toward her. He, too, was sporting a thick erection that bulged from under the seams of his pants, begging to be set free.

  "Take off my bra," she commanded. Mr. Hayes stood behind her and did exactly as he was told. The springy elastic snapped open and both of her soft tits fell out. He reached around, pressing his meat against her back, and twirled each of her light nipples.

  "Yes," she hissed.

  She leaned down and lightly kissed the side of Gordon’s jaw before standing up. Without needing any
direction, Mr. Hayes slipped his hands down the front of her soaked panties.

  Tracy cried out when his fingers snaked down over her mound and slipped into her with ease. She spread her knees as far as she could without falling and let him feel her from the inside, but only for a minute. Then she moved his hands to her hips. It was a silent order to continue undressing her, one that he understood perfectly.

  He jerked her panties down, allowing her to step out and fling them aside with a foot. Finally naked, she turned her attention back to Gordon, who was nearly writhing in his seat with anticipation.

  She bent over, pushing her ass against Mr. Hayes while she deftly undid Gordon’s zipper and pulled his member free. It was bigger than she had given him credit for.

  Behind her, Tracy could feel her lover quickly undressing.

  She knelt, extended her tongue and slowly ran it from the base of Gordon’s cock to the very tip, eliciting a moan from somewhere deep inside of him. He immediately grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled. It was just hard enough to convey how badly he needed her.

  Tracy plunged her mouth down onto him and sucked down. She could feel his every throbbing ridge as she moved up slowly, taking in his taste and scent to make him wait a little longer.

  Her mouth popped softly when she reached the end, then she stood up. Tracy grabbed onto the back of the chair and turned back to Mr. Hayes.

  "Come over here," she commanded.

  He walked to her left just in time to see her thrust her body down onto Gordon’s pole with a loud, wet slap. She opened her mouth to cry out for him, but was immediately silenced by Mr. Hayes. His long, thick shaft slipped past her lips and muffled her escalating cries of pleasure.

  Tracy’s pace became more frantic. She hopped her body up and down over Gordon, pounding her pussy against him hard enough to make her breasts bounce and shake. She sucked her boyfriend’s cock and rocked her hips forward, grinding her engorged clit against Gordon’s hard body.

  It was enough to easily push her over the edge, surprising even her with the quickness and power of it. Tracy pulled her mouth away from Mr. Hayes and screamed with ecstasy as her walls throbbed and pulsed around Gordon’s thrusting member.

  But there was no rest for Tracy. She wanted more. This was her fantasy and she wasn't about to let it end here.

  "To the table, both of you," she ordered.

  Gordon got up from his chair and picked Mr. Hayes’ deep blue tie up off of the table.

  Tracy glanced over and asked, "What’s that, Mr. Baxter?"

  He smirked and grabbed one of her wrists. For the first time, he and Mr. Hayes locked eyes with matching glimmers in their eyes. Tracy saw it, and she knew what it meant.

  They had an idea.

  Before she could demand otherwise, the two powerful men had bound her wrists together with the soft tie, and each of them greedily groped and kissed her body. By then, there was no hint of the cooperation she saw between them just moments before. They both simply wanted to please her.

  Mr. Hayes, who had been waiting for too long, grabbed her first. He spun her around, forcing her body face down onto the table with a loud slap.

  He entered her from behind, pounding his cock into her lubricated hole. All the while, the rounded edge of the table bumped and massaged the precipice of Tracy’s quivering folds.

  But before she could get too far again, Mr. Hayes suddenly pulled away and Tracy felt Gordon’s throbbing snake slide into her.

  They’re taking turns with me, she realized and bit down onto her lip. The idea was dirty and delicious at the same time. The idea of both of them getting pleasure from her was hotter than anything she could imagine. A rising tide of screams and wails of pleasure made her head start to spin from a lack of air. Each and every thrust was harder than the last, the force of which took her breath away. Soon, Tracy couldn’t keep track of who was inside of her. She writhed with her bound hands in front of her, begging for them to go faster. Again she was inching closer to climax, this time with both men close behind.

  The men switched again. Tracy knew it was Gordon when he wedged his rough hand between her pussy and the table and started to massage her in hard, tight circles.

  It was all that Tracy needed.

  The coaxing from Gordon’s hand sent off a chain reaction in Tracy. A hot, blooming wave of pleasure raced outward through her body, starting from where his talented fingers ended.

  "Yes," she screamed for him before loosing herself to wordless ecstasy.

  Just before the last pangs of ecstasy had finished, Tracy felt him jerk out of her. A second later, he grunted and shot out a stream of his hot cum toward her. It hit the table between her legs, speckling her with small drops.

  Tracy gasped for air and tried to push herself up from the table, but Mr. Hayes wasn’t having it. Again he pushed his cock through her opening. With both hands, he spread her open, making sure to bury his cock deep.

  Moments after, Tracy got no warning as his sticky seed erupted inside of her. A hard chill raced through her spine, making her close her eyes .

  By the time he pulled out, Tracy could already feel the looming cloud of sleep threatening to close in. Without a word, she started to put her clothes back up.

  Gordon cleared his throat. "I'll... I'll go to work getting this place cleaned up. You two have a lovely rest of the night."

  Mr. Hayes smiled as he dressed.

  "Thank you for a lovely evening, Gordon. I trust you can lock up yourself?" Tracy asked.

  Gordon nodded, and Mr. Hayes and Tracy left the restaurant. For some reason she couldn't understand, Tracy could barely stay awake.

  Chapter 20

  "That was nice, Tracy. I've actually dreamed of us doing this ever since that night with you and Jenna," Mr. Hayes said.

  She struggled to keep her eyes open the entire ride home, though the rhythmic whooshing of passing cars tempted her to the realm of sleep. She struggled out of the car when they arrived and climbed up the stairs, holding onto the banister like a rock-climber dangling from a cliff. Her feet felt like cement and her head felt like it was about to float away.

  Suddenly, what Mr. Hayes had said in the car came back to her. Mr. Hayes had dreamed about a two man threesome.

  How did I not know that was going to happen? Why didn’t I see it?

  As tired as she was, the nagging doubt in her blossoming abilities weighed even heavier on her mind. She wondered whether or not the skill was fading or, even worse, if she was just outright losing her marbles. There were times when she certainly felt like it could be the latter.

  By the time that Tracy reached the massive, plush bed, her eyes were already halfway shut. Before her tousled hair touched the silk pillow case, she was out completely.

  The whirling, twisting colors of blue and red over white surrounded Tracy again, though this time the wind was as hot and dry as the Sahara. She put her forearms up in front of her face to shield herself, but not before a few bits of sand blasted her cheeks. The flying specks felt like tiny, little needles assaulting her face.

  She tried to speak, but the wind was howling like a tornado. Then, just as before, the painful squeeze of the strange man’s grip seized her wrist and yanked her out of the multi-colored cyclone.

  Tracy landed abruptly on the desert sand that extended endlessly in every direction. It was hot, almost too hot to stand on. She shifted her feet back and forth and tried to pry her arm away from the man.

  "Why do you keep coming to me? Who are you?"

  The man, looking a little older than he had before, leaned down so close that she could see the tobacco stains on his teeth.

  "Death."

  Tracy turned away from him, but he tightened his grip on her wrist enough to force her to look back. When she did, they were nose-to-nose. She could feel his breath rolling down over her heaving chest. She felt the small bones in her hand and wrist begin to grind together.

  "Tell me your name," she commanded, sounding far more confident than she
felt.

  The man shook his head slowly and stroked her face with his free hand, rubbing his crescent scar against her sand-blasted cheek. Little flecks of red spotted her cheek where the grains had made contact and broken her skin. Now, under the unwanted stroking of the man’s hand, the drops smeared across her face like war paint.

  "Tell me," she screamed at him.

  He stopped, pulled his hand away, and slapped her. Tracy yelped and felt her knees buckle beneath her. The only thing stopping her from falling to the ground was his unrelenting grip.

  She looked back up, but the man had changed. Near the corner of his face, by where his black, stubby hairline began, a corner of his skin looked like it was peeling away.

  It reminded Tracy of the old wallpaper in her grandma’s house.

  She reached up and pinched the flap. The man didn’t try to stop her. In fact, he had stopped moving altogether. Tracy grabbed the thing and jerked down, only to be blinded by a brilliant flash of white. The man’s old face crumbled to dust in her fingers, but still he didn’t let her go.

  "Who the hell are you?"

  "What?" a familiar voice called out to her. "You don’t recognize me?"

  Tracy opened and closed her eyes, trying to shake away the fog. When they did focus, the smiling face of Gordon Baxter was waiting to greet her.

  "Gordon?!"

  He let go of her wrist, wrapping his skilled hands around her throat and jerking her up against him. Even through his linen whites, she could feel the outline of a raging erection.

  It was getting harder and harder for Tracy to breathe. She tried to push away, but his hand felt like it was glued to her. Her feet thrashed and kicked, but never made contact with anything. Gordon reached down with his other hand and squeezed her mound firmly.

  When he spoke, his words came out like a serpent’s hiss.

  "I’m going to kill you, Tracy."

  Tracy screamed, but no sound came out.

  Chapter 21

  The weeks leading up to the grand opening of Tracy’s restaurant were a flurry of activity. There was a constant stream of vendors and new employees running in and out of the place from morning to night. At the center of it all was the waitress-turned-head honcho who, at the end of the day, felt about as lost as the day she chose to make it happen. The constant tornado of events made it almost impossible to concentrate on anything for more than a minute or two.

 

‹ Prev