Owned by the Billionaire(5)

I jerked with surprise as his arms wrapped around me in a comforting  hug. "Darling. You know you can't leave yet." Dumbfounded, I turned in  his arms to stare at him. He smiled and tapped my nose. "You're still a  virgin."

I pulled back, mouth open. "What? No, we had sex." He tightened his grip  on me, trying to cuddle me in close, but I resisted, glaring at him.  "We did have sex! Last night! Right there!" I gestured widely at the  bed, as those I needed to provide proof. As though he had just  forgotten!

He sighed and met my eyes, his expression practically dripping sympathy  for my lack of understanding. I scowled back, and he shook his head at  me. "Alright, yes, we did have sex." I opened my mouth and he raised a  finger. "But you are still a virgin! Your hymen is intact."

"My..? But-but.." I sputtered and he hushed me, one finger across my lips.

"The contract was very specific, darling. As long as your hymen is  intact, you belong to your buyer." Utterly dismayed, I stared at him.  Was that what it had said? I had skimmed over the sex part, not wanting  to think too much about what I was agreeing too, and mostly focused on  the safety precautions. He smiled at me, smugly pleased, and I wanted to  hit him. Perhaps sensing my anger, he released me and stepped back  quickly.

"Go take a shower. I'll arrange for some clothes and we'll have  breakfast." He raised a gentle hand to my face, a tender brush that made  me tremble. "It will be alright, darling."

Grabbing a sheet and wrapping it around himself, he headed for the door.  I stood frozen in place, torn between my need to escape and a deep  yearning to spend more time with this puzzling, changeable man. Just  before he reached the door, I found my voice again.

"Why did you buy yourself a virgin?" He surely didn't need to pay for sex!

He paused, keeping his back to me, then turned and smiled. "I didn't,  darling. You were a gift." His smile faltered and he looked troubled,  meeting my eyes searchingly. "From my ex-wife."

We stared at each other for a long moment, before he turned and left the room without another word.





Sold to the Billionaire

The hot water stung my poor bruised ass, but I didn't care. I scrubbed  myself viciously, as though the sweetly-scented bubbles could erase my  shame and fear. But the metal bands still circling my wrists and ankles  were physical proof of the trap I was caught in. Oh God , what do I do  now?

Out of desperation, I had sold myself, agreeing to trade cold hard cash  for my virginity. The virgin auction had been a frightening experience, a  blur of bright lights and harsh sounds, but nowhere near as terrifying  as what had come afterwards. Hooded and chained, I'd been driven to a  mansion and shoved into a dimly lit bedroom. He'd been waiting for me  there, a dark-eyed stranger. My buyer. My owner.         

     



 

I'd never known anyone like him. He'd been both tender and cruel,  shifting easily between teasingly sweet kisses and painful punishments.  He'd taken perverse pleasure in 'correcting' me, and my ass still ached  from the spanking I'd received. To my shocked surprise, though,  submitting to his wicked desires had aroused me. Just the memory of his  firm blows on my ass made me squirm, my pussy throbbing in renewed lust.

I'd expected him to fuck me that night, to claim his purchased  virginity, and he had. To my surprise, he'd sank his hard cock deep into  my ass instead of my pussy. The pain-edged pleasure of his sinful  penetration had given me my very first orgasm, even as he spilled his  seed deep inside my clenching body. I slept in his arms afterwards,  exhausted by passion, but in the harsh light of morning the hot lust  shifted to soul-searing shame. Our depraved bargain had been fulfilled  and so I asked to leave, desperate to escape the overwhelming emotions  tearing me apart.

He had refused to let me go. We'd argued, but he'd taken advantage of a  contractual loophole. Until my hymen was broken, I was technically still  a virgin. I paused, slowing my frantic scrubbing, as I recalled the  moment I had finally recognized my buyer. Miles Sinclaire. A reclusive  billionaire, he hadn't been seen much in public since his brutal  divorce. Not a man you'd think would need to pay for sex. And  apparently, he hadn't. I'd been a gift from his ex-wife. That can't be  good.

I jerked, startled from my tangled thoughts, as the bathroom door  opened. Footsteps approached, and then the shower curtain was thrust  aside. I squeaked and clutched myself as cold air swept in around my wet  form. Miles stood there, his dark hair streaked with silver, rugged  crows-feet bracketing his cold eyes. The playful warmth he'd shown at  our last meeting seemed to have evaporated, and he scowled down at me.

"Sophia. Get out and get dressed."

Avoiding his gaze, I nodded and began to ease my way across the shower,  keeping my back to the wall. He snorted and stood back, crossing his  arms as his eyes swept down my naked body, a faint sneer twisting his  lips. I blushed hotly, and slid my hands down to cover my breasts and  mound.

"Stop. Remove your hands." The barked command stung, and I inhaled  sharply, before grudgingly lowering my hands. My sullen glare didn't  seem to faze him. "You didn't shave!" He was apparently affronted by  this brazen rudeness.

Confused, I stammered. "Wh-what? I shaved my legs!"

Silently, he pointed at the juncture of my thighs. Reflexively, I looked  down, past my tits and flat belly, but I already knew what he seeing.  My pubic hair had been tidily trimmed into a short soft bush. I flushed  and looked away, embarrassed to be discussing something so intimate with  this near-stranger, even after the sordid events of the previous night.  "I... um... I don't shave down there. Not all the way, anyways, I just  do the bikini line." His frown deepened, but I went on, suddenly  irritated by his unspoken criticism. "Look, it's my pussy, and I don't  have to shave it if I don't want to!"

He reared back at this bit of defiance, and a tense silence fell between  us. I held my breath and met his eyes, lifting my chin. A familiar hot  gleam had replaced the icy chill in their chocolate depths. As the pause  lengthened and nothing happened, I took a breath and dropped my gaze.  Watching my footing on the slick tiles, I stepped out the tub and  reached for the plush towels. He was so close that I could feel his  warmth on my chilled skin, but I carefully avoided touching him.

As soon as my feet were flat on the floor, he lunged. I yelped as his  hard hands fell onto on my damp shoulders, shoving my back against the  wall. He leaned into me, pinning me into place with his weight, until  his lips brushed my throat. The silky fabric of his shirt slid against  my bare breasts, and I shivered as my nipples hardened reflexively. My  hands came up to grip his biceps, weakly pushing him away even as hot  pulses surged through my traitorous pussy.

Ignoring my feeble struggles, he whispered in my ear. "Your pussy  belongs to me, actually." He pulled back a bit, his fingers tightening  painfully on my shoulders. His knee slid between my legs, pressing  upwards and lifting me onto my toes. I whimpered as the rough material  of his slacks ground against the tender folds of my bare twat. He  dropped a hand between our bodies, his fingers yanking painfully on my  pubic hair. "I'm going to shave your cunt smooth. Are you going to stop  me?" With a quick jerk, he plucked a few hairs from my mound, the sharp  pain making my eyes water. Gasping, I shook my head. "Use your words,  darling." Another jerk, and I yelped from the sting.

"N-no, I won't stop you. You can shave my pussy." His eyebrows lowered  ominously, and I babbled on. "I mean, will you please shave my pussy?  Sir?"         

     



 

A slow smile crossed his face. He lifted the hand that had hurt me,  brushing gentle fingers against my cheek and chin to wipe away the  spilled tears. I trembled, once more torn between an overwhelming desire  for his tender touch, and fear of his cruelty. He soothed me, lowering  me back down onto my feet and running warm hands down my arms. "Very  good, darling." I smiled back, tentatively. "Now, make yourself a nice  spot on the floor and lie down."

He released me, and turned away. With shaking hands, I pulled the soft  towels from the rack and spread them onto the floor, avoiding my damp  footsteps. I watched out of the corner of my eyes as Miles pulled open a  few drawers, clearly searching for something. He turned and gave me a  pointed look, and I quickly laid down on the floor, flat on my back with  my knees pressed tightly together.

A few moments passed as I stared at the ceiling, periodic shudders  rippling through me from cold and nerves. I could hear drawers opening  and closed, and then a pleased sigh. Approaching footsteps warned me,  and I trembled as his hand closed on my knee. Miles knelt beside me,  shaking his head ruefully. "You need to open your legs, darling."