Bought By The Billionaire

Chapter 22: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Twenty-Two



Chapter 22: Bought By The Billionaire - Chapter Twenty-Two

Up on the tenth floor, my Master makes me welcome in his office. “Hello, Elizabeth. I just wanted a quick chat. Coffee?”

“Thanks, yes, I’d love one.”

He rings through a request to Francis then returns his attention to me. “I have a meeting tomorrow. A very important meeting with potential clients who, if we can get the deal, will be worth a great deal of money to the company.”

“Okay.” I nod attentively.

What does this have to do with me?

“I would like you to sit in on the meeting.”

Oh!

“You have already proved that you have an eye for detail with your work in the procurement section. It may have been an unpleasant little episode, but it saved the company a lot of money. Tomorrow, I want you to sit in as secretary to the meeting and take the minutes.”

He leans forward. “Elizabeth, I want you to bring in that talent for detail again. Take notes of what is said—proposals, agreements, suggestions, whatever there is. However, I also want you to watch the people—body language, expressions. Do they seem comfortable with the discussion? Does anyone look unhappy with the agreement? That sort of thing.” He takes my hand in his. “Are you with me on that? Happy with it?”

I nod. “Yes, it sounds fine to me. What…?”

I do not get to finish my question. At that moment, we hear raised voices in the outer office; Francis’ and some other female voice I don’t recognise. The office door slams open, almost bouncing back on its hinges, and a woman strides in, her face like Fury. She should be rather attractive, beautiful even, with immaculate makeup, expensive designer clothes, and sleek dark hair. However, her furious expression spoils her beauty.

Francis follows her in, gesturing apologetically at my Master.

The stranger says, “Richard! This bloody woman tried to tell me that I can’t come in.” Then she stops mid-stride as she registers me, raising one eyebrow.

My Master stands, not looking pleased. “Adele, it is Francis’s job to ensure that I am not disturbed when I am in a meeting.”

Her lip curls. “Yes, I can see what kind of meeting you are having. Who’s this then? Your latest little trollop?”

My Master takes a deep breath, then speaks in measured tones, his voice tight with suppressed anger. “If it were any of your business, Adele, I might answer that. But it isn’t. The last time we met, if you recall, you stood me up. At the time, I took it as an informal way of you finally saying goodbye. I still do. Now, please leave. Feel free to call me this evening, if you think we have something to discuss. Right now, I would like to return to my discussions here.”

She stands frozen for a moment, her head back, and wearing that arrogant ugly lip curl, then turns her gaze to me. “I wouldn’t hope for too much, dear.” She spits the words. “You’re not the first. You won’t be the last.” She spins and marches out, followed by Francis.

My Master waits a few seconds then follows them out. I hear him speaking. “Francis, check with reception that she’s left the building, would you? Then cancel her entry codes. I don’t want any repeat of this.”

“I’m sorry, Mr Haswell. I tried to stop her bursting in like that, but she wouldn’t have it. You know what she’s like …”

“Yes, I remember well, just what she is like. Don’t worry about it, Francis. It’s not your fault. Just make sure that she can’t simply march in like that again.”

He comes back into the office and sits down next to me again. “My apologies, Elizabeth. That wasn’t fair on you. It won’t happen again.”

“That’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. Was she … were you …” My tongue ties. How do I ask this?

“Yes, we were … but not now, or ever again. The last time I saw her was the night you and I met, when you decided to take an impromptu shower in my bathroom if you recall …” He grins, and my tension subsides a little.

While it was happening, I did not have time to be upset by Adele’s outburst. It was over too quickly, but now the meaning of her words is beginning to sink in and I am beginning to feel a little sick.

My Master sees this in my face. “Elizabeth, you mustn’t be upset by this. I do not want you upset by this.”

I nod and gulp, but can think of nothing to say.

He grips me by my arm and tilts my face up, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “I know that you want more than I am offering, but I will make you no promises I think I cannot keep. For now, you must accept that … but …” His grip on my arm tightens, almost hurting me. “… but … she is part of my past. That night you and I first met, I was trying to take one last shot at making it work with her, God knows why.”

He releases me, and standing, sweeps his hair back with both hands, staring at the ceiling. “Anyway, whatever the reason, I tried. You just got a taste of her personality. And she was never really any different, even when I thought there might be something real between us. The reality is that she is manipulative, scheming, and really not very pleasant to know. I was simply besotted with her physical beauty. Whereas you, Elizabeth …” His smile returns as he looks at me. “… You are as sweet as Spring, and I will do my best to honour every promise I make you, because I know that you will do the same. Are you all right, Elizabeth?”

Biting my lip, I reply, “Yes, I am. Thank you, Master.”

“Good, let’s get back to work, and then later perhaps, we should continue celebrating your new apartment, eh?”

“Oh, yes, Master.” I laugh.

“You can wear that rather attractive green bodice you have. It goes with your hair beautifully.”

“Yes, Master.”

***** Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

But that evening, on my way home, I become aware of being shadowed again. Trying not to show that I know I am being followed, I pause again by shop windows, trying to spot my shadow in the reflection, but he always slips out of sight before I spy him. Mack again?

Unnerved once more, I cut through the crowds to lose myself before continuing home. I decide that I must tell my Master what is happening.

*****

The green bodice my Master likes was chosen for him. I try to select clothes I think he will enjoy. Carefully I fit it into place, supporting my large breasts, but with the laces dangling free.

Matching side-laced panties and black lace stockings are, I think, all else that is needed. Possibly, I will not be wearing them for very long …

My Master strides into the apartment just as I finish preparing myself for him. Clearly, he is in the mood for action as, with no preliminaries, he pushes me flat back against the wall. “Stand there. I want to look at you.” Then, moving back for a better view, he says, “Lift your chin. I want to see your face properly.”

Obediently, I comply, tilting my face a little, to allow my Master to see my profile.

He seems pleased with the effect. “Do you have any champagne here?”

“Yes, Master. Shall I fetch it?”

“Yes, with glasses and ice.”

When I return, he is seated on the settee, sprawling a little, arms raised, hands clasped behind his head. His eyes follow me as I pour the wine and offer him a glass.

“Just put it on the table for now then come here. Stand in front of me.”

Again, I obey, placing myself before him, his face level with my hips.

“Closer. I want to be able to smell you.”

I move closer, my panties now almost brushing his face. He leans forward, one hand caressing my hip and thigh as he inhales deeply. “You smell wonderful, Elizabeth, but then you always do.” He leans back again onto the settee. “Now, play with yourself.”

I hesitate, a little unsure of what he is asking.

“I said, play with yourself. Finger yourself. Play with your clit. Fuck yourself. I want to watch you arouse yourself. Then, when you’re good and wet, I’m going to fuck you.”

Sliding fingers down the front of my panties, I start to rub myself, fingering through my red curls so that my Master can see the movement through the green silk. His head tilts and his eyes are dark, his pupils wide as he watches. I allow a few foxy hairs to escape the lace of the panties, rosy against the white of my thighs…


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