Submitting to the Billionaire(47)

"Leave it on," he orders. "Take off your skirt next."         

     



 

I look up at him and am taken aback when I see the way his eyes have  darkened. They are almost black. They sweep up and down my body, and I  fight the instinctive urge to wrap my arms around myself to cover it up.  No man has seen me naked. Ever. But he wants to see me, so here I am. I  do as I am told, and reach around to unzip my skirt, contorting my  upper body so I can reach it. I tug it down to my hips in one smooth  motion, then hesitate for a second.

"Let it go," he murmurs, his voice closer to a growl than it had been before.

I drop the skirt and force myself to meet his gaze once again. He seems  focused on my panties. It's lace and it is clinging to my hips. He  flexes his fingers, as though he longs to reach out and touch me.

"Bra," he says thickly.

I quickly unhook my plain black bra, pulling my arms out of the straps  as I drop it at my feet. I can feel the blood pulsing in my veins, feel  my heart as it drums against my ribcage. As his eyes take in every inch  of me I feel that heat between my legs growing and growing, soaking my  panties. He cocks his head to the side as though deciding what to do  next. I still can't believe this is happening. Can't believe that I'm  doing this. Can't believe how much he seems to want it. I stare at him,  waiting for his next order with baited breath.

"Play with yourself."

"What?" My eyes widened in shock. "What do you mean?"

"You're a dirty girl. You know what I want," he responds, his eyes glinting. "Or do I have to show you?"

This is taking things further than what I agreed to, but the heat  between my legs is starting to turn into an ache and I need some relief  too. If that's what he wants, why not give it to him? I lift one hand,  and hover it over my sex for a second before I slide it quickly beneath  the lace of my panties.

I'm used to touching myself in the privacy of my own bedroom, but I've  never had a man so much as see me naked before today, let alone watch me  masturbate. Somehow, his presence isn't off-putting. If anything, his  intense regard and interest is encouraging and makes me feel bold and  daring. I brush my fingers over my clit, and my own touch makes me  shiver. I'm so sensitive and swollen that everything feels tantalizing  intense.

I let my eyes drift shut as I draw small circles around my clitoris,  pressing gently until I feel myself grow pert and solid beneath my  fingers. Even with my eyes shut, I can still feel his hot gaze on me,  and it's the only encouragement I need to go further and further. To  entice him into my performance. My head goes back as my hips start  gyrating gently upwards.

I hear a rustling sound, and my eyes pop open.

Standing in front of me is a completely naked Drake. My mouth drops  open, and I feel another jolt of arousal as my eyes skim down his body …   until they fall on his erection. Holy amazeballs! He is enormous. I have  never seen a man's cock in person before, and it looks very …  good. Not  the way a pretty painting looks good, but the way a tasty meal looks  good. It lights something in me, some need, something dark and heavy  that has been lying buried deep inside me.

My fingers move quicker, and my mouth hangs slightly open as I look back  at his face. His expression mirrors mine. Desperate, hungry, horny. I  buck my hips back and forth in time with my fingers, and my breath  begins coming in short, sharp bursts, until my entire body tenses up,  every muscle seizing, and I know I won't be able to last much longer-

When my orgasm hits, it is explosive, practically taking me off my feet.  My pussy clenches repeatedly, my body crumpling as I press a hand  against the wall behind me to keep myself upright.

"Fuck!" I gasp. I'm not much one for cursing, but there is nothing else I  can possibly think of to convey the intensity of that moment. I look up  at him once more and find him grinning at me, a victorious, possessive  smile on his face. He loves this, loves the power he has over me. And I  must admit, I'm not adverse to it, either. In fact, I love it.

I love having him watch while I play with myself.

By the time my vision clears and my orgasm fades away, I can tell that  the heat between my legs still hasn't dissipated. If anything, it has  grown more intense. I slowly withdraw my hand from my panties, and let  it fall by my side again. I stare at him, unsure of what to do next, and  he cocks his head to the side to observe me for a couple of seconds.

"Are your panties very, very wet?"

I nod.

"Take them off then," he orders, his voice low.

I obey at once. It is as though my body has registered the intensity of  what has just happened, and it is desperate to find some way to recreate  that feeling. I step out of my underwear and stand buck naked before  him.         

     



 

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip as his eyes fall to my pussy,  and I wonder for a moment what his mouth might feel like on me. He seems  to weigh his options, and I have no idea what he is going to request  next. The blood is whirling around my head because I already know that  whatever it is, I don't have it in me to say no.

He sits down on the bench between us, facing me, so he's eye-level with  the apex of my thighs. I cross my legs a little, suddenly nervous, but  he reaches out and parts my thighs so I am fully on display for him. As  soon as his fingers touch me, I feel a jolt of pure electricity,  followed by a trail of sparks as he lightly runs his thumb across my wet  inner thigh. He takes his thumb up to his mouth.

"Freshly shaven pussy. My favorite," he murmurs and licks at my juices  slowly while watching for my reaction. The action is so hot my lips part  involuntarily.

He brings his hand forward again and lets his fingers graze my slit.

I bite my lower lip helplessly. God, he has complete control over my body.

"When did you shave it?" he asks softly.

"In the bath, last night." My voice is breathless.

"For me?"

I shake my head.

"Liar," he taunts softly. "You shaved it for me."

"No," I say, but I feel hypnotized by his eyes. They never leave my face.

"Let me feel that pussy," he murmurs, and he is so close to me that I can feel his hot breath against my swollen lips.

I suck in a sharp breath. "Wh-what do you mean?" I ask. I want him inside, but I am suddenly afraid.

"Rub your pussy lips on my cock," he replies, scanning my face as though  waiting for my reaction. "I want to feel your wet little cunt sliding  on my dick."

I stare down at him then my eyes shift down to his cock: so thick, and  alive, and jerking with need. Pre-cum is dripping from the tip. Though a  part of me, the sensible, good girl part of me, knows I should say no,  the rest of me just wants to feel his skin next to mine too.

Leaning down I wrap my arms around his neck, and lower myself down so my  pussy is just barely touching his erection. He pressed me down so that I  am enveloping his shaft the way a bun accepts a hot dog.

My wetness makes it easy for me to grind myself along his meat. It's a  delicious feeling and I savor it while I watch his face the whole time.  His eyes never leave mine, even as his mouth tightens and his jaw  clench. His hands come up to my hips, and he guides me along, both of us  moving in perfect rhythm with each other.

Just when I feel as if I am going to climax again, there is a flare in  his eyes, and his strong hands curl around my waist and lift me up until  I am hovering over the tip of his engorged massive cock. Through that  haze of lust, a tiny alarm suddenly goes off in my brain. Oh, God, he is  going to impale me on that thick shaft. I pull my arms off him and jump  back. I don't know what came over me, but I didn't mean to go this far.  I can't do this. Not here. With him. Morgan's son. In a men's locker  room. Not after waiting all this time for that special guy. My breath is  shaky as I reach for my clothes. He furrows his brow at me.

"What's this then?" he asks. "A fucking cock tease!"

I shake my head. "I'm sorry. I should go. I didn't think it would get  that far," I hurriedly, pull on my skirt and my top, then fumble in my  pocket for the address I'd scrawled down earlier. I thrust it at him.  "Here, this is the address."

He takes it without looking down at the paper. "That's it?" he asks, sounding furious.

"I'm really sorry about this, but you should go and see your mother."

He doesn't say anything as I go to the door.

"Good meeting you," I mutter, undo the latch, and make my way out into  the corridor. Taking in giant gulps of air into my lungs, I press my  fingers to my temples and wonder what the hell I just allowed to happen  to me.





Chapter Three





Drake





The door clicks shut behind her, and I'm left there looking like a  dumbass fool, horny as fuck, and reeling with the image of her creamy  thighs spread open, her head thrown back, her round breasts jiggling in  my face, and her pupils so dilated they are nearly as big as her irises.  And that sexy meow that slipped out of those plump lips.