Billionaire Flawed 2(219)

“Romantic,” Dana smiled, looking over at Greg as he shut the door and locked it behind them.

“Wait,” he said, and then he motioned towards the bedroom, and she went that way. She was wearing a red dress and matching heels, and she stopped for a moment to bend and take them off, but Greg stopped her. “Do what I tell you. Don’t undress yourself. Go sit on the bed.”

Dana nodded, her heart rate already elevating. It was going to be one of those nights. He was in charge. He would dominate her, and she would do what he said and wanted. Dana had no idea just what that would entail.

She perched on the end of the bed and looked up to him. He stood before her, reaching into his pocket and pulling his cell phone out. He dialed a number and held the phone to his ear.

“Come up,” he said.

A single thought flashed through Dana’s head. It was the woman with the strap on, coming to fuck her while Greg watched from the highback easy chair in the corner.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a woman,” Dana said, but Greg just glared at her, and raised a finger to quiet her as he hung up and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“I’m in charge,” he said, and then, as he turned and left, he added, “Stay here.”

Dana did so, her pulse pounding, the idea of being with another woman freezing her in place. It was frightening. She didn‘t even swing that way remotely; she had never been curious about women. She was so reserved, something that she had been working through with the help of Greg, but this, it was just too much.

And then Greg returned, and the young woman in the red dress found that her fears were unwarranted. They were entirely misplaced. Greg did return with someone, but it wasn’t some busty bimbo with a big black strap-on jutting from delicate hips.

It was a young man.





4

He looked to be about twenty, and he had blonde hair which fell to his shoulders, and skin so tanned it could be called olive. Dana thought he might be foreign, and he confirmed it when he spoke to her, his accent something from the Mediterranean.

“Lovely woman,” he said, and Dana couldn't be sure if he were talking to her, or about her.

“This is Homer,” Greg said, motioning to his friend. Dana thought the name didn’t suit the man, but she smiled in the soft candlelight and nodded.

“Hello,” she said.

“Stand up,” Homer said in return, and Dana looked to Greg.

“You’ll do as I say, and I say you do as Homer says,” the older man said, and Dana stood, suddenly self-conscious in her thin dress. Homer stepped forward, and she could smell his aftershave and expensive cologne, and she could feel the heat from his body. He was wearing a pale blue button up shirt, the first three buttons undone so she could admire his toned and hairless chest. His pants were tight, his shoes expensive Italian leather. All things Dana had come to admire and appreciate since dating a billionaire.

Homer didn’t ask before he touched her. He seemed to be taking his role as another dominant man seriously His hands went to her hips, and then his body was pressing against her, and Dana was proud of herself for a shining moment when she felt his hard on pressing against the bottom of her flat stomach.

Before she could register anything else, he was kissing her, young and forceful, his tongue pressing against her lips until she parted them to him. She felt her arms go around his body, without being conscious of doing it herself. Her hands pressed against his back, taut with tight young muscle. The kiss broke, and he lowered his lips to her neck, his white teeth nibbling there as Dana tilt her head back. She opened her smoky eyes just enough to see Greg there, still standing near the entrance of the room. He was watching as the younger man bit and sucked on his girlfriend's neck.

“You like to watch?” Dana teased, taking to what was happening quicker than she had imagined she would.

“I’ll do more than watch,” her boyfriend promised her, and then Homer was taking her face in his hands and tilting her head down so he could kiss her again.

“Stop,” Greg said, after a minute of kissing between Dana and Homer. The younger man stepped away immediately. Dana was breathless, her nipples hard and pressing noticeably against her dress, her pussy slick and moist under her panties. Both men stared at her large breasts, and Greg smiled.

“Take off your dress,” he said, and slowly, teasingly. Dana did so, pulling it up and over her head. She tossed it to the floor, and then bent to take her heels off.

“Leave them on,” Homer commanded, and Dana did so. She stood there in front of both men, naked save for the shoes and her panties, tight red boy shorts.

“Turn around,” Greg said, and once again Dana did as she was told.