Bossed by the Billionaire

Chapter 8 – Alyssa

Never in a million years have I ever thought that yours truly would be tied up in the best VIP room in America while her boyfriend went down on her.

All right, so I suppose a few details are in order. We’re not in the Diamond VIP lounge. We’ve got more class than that, although I’m sure Mr. Monroe would have no problems with us getting bodily fluids in one of his favorite spots. That’s for other people to clean up, anyway.

As I was saying? Shortly after Julian informed me that he had other surprises in store for tonight, he proceeded to ask our server Lucy if she knew of any private spots around here for us to enjoy. Before another minute could pass, we were in possession of a key to the nicest private room around.

A private room with a bed and discreet bowls of condoms and lubes, but a private room nonetheless. Because what Julian Marcus wants? He gets.

Like me tried up with soft bondage ropes, completely helpless and at his whim.

Keep in mind that I can make this stop whenever I want. Naturally, I don’t want it to end. Because as I’ve gone over before, Julian knows what that tongue of his is capable of.

I’m spread wide open, my feet tied to metal hooks protruding from the bottom end of the bed. My arms are likewise above my head, the ropes gently wound around my wrists. I guess this is what they call spread eagle, yes? No idea. Can’t say I’ve ever done this before, even though, as we all know, Julian is a complete cad who is likely to do anything the moment he gets the idea in his head.

His idea? To tie me up, rip off my panties (maybe in that order,) and tease my clit with his ravenous tongue.

I can barely stand it!

I’m not being rewarded for anything. Unless it’s for being a good sport today. I’m definitely not being punished, although he could probably come up with a few sexy reasons to punish me – any other night, he would use that woman hitting on me as an excuse to punish me. Tonight, however, I get the impression that all Julian cares about is pleasure and whatever he feels like doing. Maybe I could throw in a few requests.

Too bad the only sounds I’m capable of making right now are variants of his name and wordless groans of pleasure.

If only I could truly convey what this man does with his tongue. When he’s not making me squirm from the way it flicks over my clit in quick little bursts, it’s making me writhe from how hard, how satisfyingly it plunges into and fills me. It does things that even his cock can’t accomplish. And from how he’s looking at me right now, I get the feeling he’s thinking about taking his cock out and fucking me with it.

Close.

He purposely makes me come on his mouth, my thighs squeezing his cheeks as I arch my back and cry out from the intensity. Two seconds later, he stands, fisting his erect cock and guiding the tip toward my open hole.

I close my eyes and await the sweet inevitable.

Damn!

Nothing prepares me for how hard he plummets into me, instantly taking every little inch I have inside. I’ve been speared against the bed. Even if I weren’t tied up, my body would never be able to move. Not that I want it to, mind you!

A growl of appreciation rumbles through Julian’s body. “Perfect,” he mutters. “Absolutely perfect, inside and out.”

This is the kind of life I could see myself living for many, many glorious years. Me, Julian, and whatever bed we can find to get dirty in. I don’t always have to be tied up. In fact, it might be nice to not be tied up once in a while, but I also wouldn’t say no to that kind of life.

I’m definitely not saying no right now! In fact, I wasn’t sure I could say the word yes as much as I do tonight.

Of course, the hottest part harkens back to the first time we hooked up in his office. The idea that someone could come walking in at any moment. They probably won’t. The likelihood is slim to none, because the door is locked and there is a huge unspoken (but written) rule in clubs like this that you do not interrupt people unless they invite you to interrupt them. (Or if the building’s on fire, I suppose.) That’s the thrill, though, right? That someone might catch us making merry in the most extramarital way?

Why does that turn me on? Almost like I want to share this kind of thing with the world.

But why would I? This is for Julian and me. This is for us. Our life together. This is what we do to express our love and need for one another.

A little while ago, I asked him if he loved me. I didn’t expect him to say it. When we first got together, I never expected him to say yes in a million years.

Now I realize, as he quickly approaches climax and I’m lying here enjoying every second of it…

He does love me, doesn’t he?

One day, I’ll want to hear those words. But for now, I’m 100% content with feeling it instead.

It doesn’t always happen, but tonight we orgasm at the same exact moment, my body trembling in pleasure when Julian releases himself inside of me. There’s nothing more that I want than to break free of my bonds and wrap my arms around him, embrace him, feel his strength surge through his torso as it crashes upon me. But I can’t. This is a part of the experience.

I have to channel my excitement, my love for him through the rest of my body. I’ll start by clamping down on his cock so tightly that he won’t be able to leave my body for a long, long time.

He doesn’t even struggle.