Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels (149 page)

Courtney bit back a cry as her back arched, body stiffened.

“
I don't think a spanking is enough, do you?” His fingers played between her legs, tips teasing around her entrance, but never going inside. When he ran an index finger up between her cheeks, her entire body jerked. Then, just the sensation of pressure against her puckered hole sent her body over the edge again. She couldn't stay silent as he pushed one dripping finger past the tight ring of muscle into her ass. Her hips bucked up involuntarily, shoving his finger deeper and her body exploded. With his finger still inside her, he buried his cock in her pussy with one swift thrust, the full sensation rocketing her to new heights
.

Another orgasm rolled over her, a continuation from the last or a new one she didn't know, and she let her fingers slide from her pussy. Sopping wet, she reached further down and teased at her asshole. She'd never tried masturbating with something there before, but ever since she'd written that letter to Vance saying that she'd let him fuck her ass, the idea had been tugging at the edges of her mind.

His cock, coated with her juices, took the place of the finger at her ass. The first nudge made her want to tense up, but he made soothing noises, his hand on her back, moving in comforting circles on the small of her back. Then, just as she'd finally relaxed, he buried himself in her ass in one thrust and she screamed, pain and pleasure burning through her. He was splitting her in two, filling her more completely than she'd ever been filled. She wanted him to pull out but never wanted him to move. Every stroke sent fire and electricity racing over her nerves until she wanted to cry.

Her hands abandoned her breasts as she shoved two fingers into her cunt, alternating strokes between the two holes. She barely realized that she was crying out his name as she came again. She withdrew both sets of fingers, muscles turned to jelly. She needed a bathroom. As she stood, she remembered her instructions. A glance at the clock told her that it was only six thirty. She still had another half hour before Vance arrived and she wasn't supposed to stop masturbating until then.

The first touch of her finger to her clit made her body twitch. It was sensitive, swollen from the stimulation. But he'd told her that if she stopped, he'd spank her. As much as the fantasy had turned her on, it wasn't something she actually wanted to experience. Knowing how ridiculous she looked but not caring, Courtney began to walk, one hand between her legs as she searched for a bathroom. She found a sink rather quickly and washed her hands. Then, still gently rubbing her clit, she made her way back to the living room. There was a dull burn in her ass as she sat, but she forced herself to admit that she'd liked it. That's what it was about this whole situation, she thought. There were things that she'd never have tried on her own, but that she'd ended up liking, almost as if Vance understood her better than she did herself.

The friction between her legs was less pleasant now, laced with an edge of pain, but she still found herself coming, the pain turning it into something else, something darker and more intense than she'd felt before. Her wrists and arms were aching as she stared at the clock, willing the big hand closer and closer to the twelve, desperate for Vance to arrive, to be allowed to stop. Her body felt like it was on fire, every touch of her over-sensitized clit and pussy sending tears streaming down her cheeks, but still she didn't stop.

When she heard the front door close, she nearly sobbed in relief, every cell in her body begging for the relief that only Vance could bring. She couldn't hear him, but she knew he was there, could feel his eyes on her. Instinct told her that acknowledging his presence wasn't a good idea but, as her body cried out for mercy, she couldn't stop herself from begging.

“Please,” she sobbed. “Please, please...” The word continued to fall from her lips even as her exhausted body pushed itself to the brink once more.

“One more time and you can stop,” Vance's voice was soft as he stepped out of the shadows and into her eye line.

“Thank you,” she gasped, her limbs going rigid as another orgasm ripped through her. “Thank you.” Her hands fell to her sides, fingers wrinkled and wet, the muscles in her hands and arms cramping. Her suddenly vacant pussy pulsed, contracted. The relief of being allowed to stop was so intense, fresh tears started streaming down Courtney's cheeks.

“Oh, baby.” He stepped closer, eyes fixed where Courtney's legs were splayed apart. “Your pussy's so red and swollen, your clit so engorged, I can see it.”

Her hands fluttered as if to cover herself but she didn't even possess the strength to close her legs. When Vance ran the tip of his finger over her slit, she whimpered, body jerking in response to contact with overly sensitive flesh.

“Look at me,” his voice held the now-familiar quiet authority.

She did as he asked. She didn't think she could sit up. Moving her head had taken way too much energy and she doubted she'd be able to muster enough to do much more.

“How many?”

She knew the question should've made sense. After all, something was tugging at a memory in the back of her mind. It was important, she knew, but it escaped her.

He raised an eyebrow, features hardening when he realized that she didn't understand the question. “How many times did you come?”

Shit. Frantically, she tried to count, but her brain was still so scrambled that she felt lucky to be able to remember her name. Five? That seemed reasonable. Right?

“Five,” she tried to keep her tone confident. One look at his face, however, told her that she didn't lie as well as she thought she did.

Double shit.

He sat on the couch next to her without a word, eyes dark with something dangerous that sent a shiver through her. She couldn't tell if it was fear, desire or a little of both. She suspected the latter. He stared at her for almost a full minute before speaking.

“Did I, or did I not, instruct you to count the number of orgasms you had while masturbating this evening?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her mouth dry.

“And yet, when I ask for your count, you lie to me?” He waited for her to protest, but she kept her mouth firmly closed. “I told you that if you disobeyed, I would punish you. Let's see if we can jog your memory.”

In a movement fast enough to startle her, he reached over and picked her up. Less than a second later, she was on his lap, face-down, bare ass in the air. A sense of horror washed over her as she realized what he was going to do. A voice in her head reminded her that she'd agreed to this, but another part of her countered that she'd thought it was all play, that he'd never go through with it.

She was an idiot.

“I think five to start with.” His hand caressed her bottom, and he chuckled as she tensed. “And let's make sure you do know how to count. Call out each one. If you forget or miscount, we start again. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She couldn't quite keep her voice steady this time. Her mind was spinning, arguing with itself as one part protested what she was allowing him to do while another part, a newer part, was actually curious. So lost in her own head was she that she didn't feel his hand leave her ass; the first blow caught her entirely by surprise.

“Ah!” It stung more than hurt, but the shock caused her to cry out.

“Count.” His voice held a warning and she remembered what he'd said.

“One.”

“Don't make me warn you again.”

The second smack was harder, landing on her left cheek.

“Two.” She squirmed, feeling him growing hard beneath her.

This time, when his hand made contact, he met already tender flesh and she yelped before saying, “Three.” The fourth blow produced similar results, but the fifth was the worst.

He made sure to catch both cheeks at the angle necessary to rub her overstimulated clit against his leg and Courtney cried out, body involuntarily bucking. Only at the last second did she remember to call out, “Five.”

“Now.” His hand made soothing circles on her heated skin. “Let's try again, shall we? I'll give you a moment to count and then I want you to tell me how many times you climaxed while you were waiting for me.”

Desperate, she searched through the last hour. The first three she remembered clearly. And the one with her fingers in her ass. She flushed at that recollection. The last one, and the one right before Vance had entered. She knew there were more, she just couldn't say for sure how many. It was one giant haze of agonizing pleasure.

“Time's up.”

She spoke without hesitation. “Seven.”

He tossed her off his lap and she could see him shaking his head as he stood. His erection tented his pants, confirming he was enjoying this. “You're lying again.”

How did he know? Had he been watching on some hidden camera? She wouldn't put it past him. Or was he simply guessing? If she tried to press the issue and he was guessing, she could probably persuade him to believe that she was telling the truth. On the other hand, if he had evidence and she insisted she wasn't lying, she knew the punishment would be far more severe and she had no desire to find out what that would be. Something dark uncurled in her belly. Did she?

She decided to keep her mouth shut. Five with his hand hadn't been too bad. Her ass was a bit tender now, but still less so than her pussy.

“I think this calls for something other than my hand.” He walked over to an antique wardrobe and unlocked it. His body blocked its contents, but Courtney had a sinking feeling that she already knew what was inside. When he turned back to her with a long, thin piece of wood, she knew she was right.

“Besides.” His steps were slow and deliberate, drawing out the tension. “My palm's a bit sore. Now, because this is your first time, I'm going to give you a choice. Five strokes with the cane.” He slapped the wood against his palm. “Or five strokes with my belt.” He ran his hand over the buckle before dropping it to his crotch, massaging himself through the material.

He wanted her to choose? How was she supposed to answer? It wasn't like she'd done this before and knew how each would feel. Was this some sort of test? If so, how was she supposed to pass? Wasn't he supposed to tell her what to do? An idea sparked in her head. Desperately hoping she was making the right choice, she said, “Whatever will please you, Sir.”

Vance blinked, a strange expression crossing his face for just a brief moment before disappearing. He set down the cane and reached for his belt buckle. He kept his eyes, now blazing blue fire, on her face, the intensity making her want to look away, but she knew she wouldn't have dared, even if she'd been able. As it was, his words froze her to the spot.

“Have you ever heard leather against flesh?” He stepped closer to her. “It's different than any other sound. Almost like the solid thump of a baseball into a glove. Somehow richer than a hand, softer than a cane. It wraps around your flesh, an embrace, if you will. But what I like the most about using a belt is the mental association.” He slowly pulled his belt from the loops, the hiss of it sliding loud in the otherwise silent room. “Now, whenever you see me wearing this belt, you'll remember the weight of it on your body, the crack against your skin, how the warmth spread through every cell.”

She swallowed hard, the hypnotic quality of his words drawing her in, making her forget the sting of his hand, the nearly raw feeling between her legs.

“And then there's the smell.” He made a loop and wrapped it around his hand. “Experts say that scent is the most powerful memory trigger. Expensive leather like this has a very distinctive smell.” He raised the belt to his nose and took a deep breath. “You'll associate anything with the same scent with this belt. You'll find yourself heating up, your pussy getting wet, your clit throbbing. You'll have to bite your tongue to keep from begging me to use it again, no matter where we are. You'll find yourself fantasizing about me bending you over my desk, over the hood of my car. Pinning you up against a wall in a bathroom, a changing room.”

He leaned down, holding the belt close to her face. She didn't need to be told to breath it in. She'd always loved the smell of leather and the idea that this scent would now trigger this memory, these feelings, did things to her. Despite herself, she could feel a new wetness between her thighs.

“On your feet,” Vance ordered.

She struggled to do as she was told, her muscles protesting every movement, telling her that they didn't want to do anything strenuous, not for another year at least. When she finally managed to get to her feet, legs shaky, her face flamed as she felt her juices trickling down the inside of her legs.

He ignored her embarrassment and took a step back. “Stand behind the couch, hands on the back. I want your feet shoulder-length apart and at least a foot from the couch.”

Each step sent a new sensation through her body. Her ass was still warm from the previous spanking. The friction of her lower lips rubbing together was nearly painful, but his words had wound her up enough that there was an edge of pleasure there as well. Her heart was pounding. By the time she'd assumed the position, she wasn't sure if she wanted to cry or come. Possibly both. The air was cool against her sex as she parted her legs, fresh wet coating the inside of her thighs.

“Count. There'll be no reminding this time.” He crossed to stand behind her.

She nodded to show her understanding. Her teeth had fastened on to her bottom lip to stop herself from protesting. Somehow, she felt more exposed in this position than she had before.

“Let's give your ass a break for this,” his tone was light, almost conversational.

She'd almost relaxed when she heard it. A split second later, a sharp, wide sting looped around her ribcage, the end snapping against the underside of her right breast. The heat came immediately after, a warmth that spread out from the initial point of contact in a way totally different than his hand.

“One,” she remembered almost instantly. This wasn't too bad.

The second blow came from the opposite direction and Courtney had a vague recollection of an interview that said Vance was ambidextrous. “Two.”