The Billionaire’s Ultimatum: His Absolute Need(45)
Author: Cerys du Lys

It was a little sad here, but hopeful, too. Dark greys inside, with bars on the windows. Beatrice had her own cell, of course, and most basic commodities, cable television, access to DVDs and books and most other things. Still, it was imprisonment. But when he looked outside, he saw a glimmer of what the prisoners must know. A few birds chirped and flew around the prison grounds and offered a view of happiness.

…

"Alright," Beatrice said, completely serious.

I listened to her and nodded and I felt somewhat awkward but she’d asked specifically if she could speak with me alone, and then Asher had left, so…

"I ordered everything. This includes chocolate fondue, but I don’t expect you to…"

"I know," I said. "I heard you that day. I was beneath the bed. Asher told you that, I thought?"

"Yes. I apologize for that. I enjoyed hearing about Solomon’s conquests. I know you two never had sex, but at the time it was exciting to me."

"Well…" Ugh. Well, what? "I’m not going to tell you about Asher and I, so please don’t ask."

"I don’t care if you tell me," Beatrice said, snooty. Asher said she was different, but I really didn’t see it. "I just don’t want you misusing the fondue. I ordered it for a very specific reason, and if you aren’t going to use it for that then I’d prefer if you tossed it out."

"Alright," I said.

"Alright what?" she asked.

"Alright, I’ll use it for what you intended or I’ll toss it out."

"You aren’t going to tell me which?"

"No!"

Beatrice frowned. "I wish you wouldn’t be so difficult."

"Can’t we talk about something else?" I asked. "I didn’t think I was here to gossip with you."

"Are you going to still have his children?" she asked, all of a sudden, completely out of nowhere. From what Asher told me, she’d never asked about this before.

"I… we…" I didn’t know what to say. "Yes, but naturally."

"That’s nice," Beatrice said. She smiled, and I think it was the first time I’d ever really seen her looking genuinely happy without a streak of meanness at all. "Well, you can go now. I have things to do. I would like it if you came back and told me about your trip."

…

"Have you thought about becoming a writer?" Asher asked me.

"Asher, please," I whined. "Not now."

He grinned and looked me in the eyes. Leaning above me on the bed, he hovered over my face and kissed me delicately on the nose. "I’m going to wait until you answer me."

Why? Why was he doing this? Or, perhaps a better question, why had I agreed to this? We were at the Solage Calistoga, back at our room, taking a break from our morning fun. For whatever reason(it hadn’t seemed terrible at the time), I’d agreed to allow Asher to tie me to the bed. And not with something simple like a silken shirt binding my hands to the headboard, oh no. He’d gone all out, apparently having purchased high quality silk rope from a specialty store. I remember laughing at that, and then laying on the bed, dutiful. I spread my arms up and to my sides, then did the same with my legs, and Asher tied each of my limbs to the bed, leaving me spread eagled with my arms in the shape of a "Y."

It had seemed amusing at the time. Exciting! Interesting and fun. And it was all of that up until Asher joined me on the bed, kneeling between my open thighs with his c*ck poised and ready to enter me. But, no, he didn’t. He built me up, and then he waited there, just barely pressing the head of his member into my waiting slit. I wanted him to push inside me, but instead he asked me if I ever thought about becoming a writer.

I pouted at him, my face twisting into something akin to annoyance and desire. "Please, Asher?" I asked. "Just a little? I can’t answer you right now. It’s so hard to think."

He kissed my neck and my br**sts, teasing my hardened n**ples with the tip of his tongue. His c*ck never moved, though, not an inch. It remained tightly tucked between my labia, ready to please me but refusing to do so until I submitted to him. Up, he kissed, back to my neck, my lips. I kissed him back in a fever of lust, hoping he’d feel my need and give in to me. He didn’t.

"Just a quick answer," he said. He kissed my nose, then each of my eyelids; I kissed his chin and his cheeks. "Yes or no, that’s all."

I couldn’t just answer yes or no. The question required more. "Yes," I said softly, fully intending on continuing to say more.

He immediately pushed inside of me, but only a few inches. I bucked against his obtrusion and gasped.

"Yes yes yes, Asher." I let out a lusty sigh and pulled against the rope binding my wrists to the bed. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and pull him deeper into me, but with my current restraints it was impossible.

"And?" he asked.

"Are you really doing this?" I asked. "Are you really going to do this? I don’t know how you can. You have far more willpower than me."

"That’s a lie," he said. "I just get a lot of pleasure from watching you squirm on the bed. It’s beautiful." He leaned down and kissed my ear. "You’re beautiful, and if you tell me more I’ll go all the way in. That’s all you have to do. I love you, Jessika."

"I love you, too," I murmured. Steeling myself, I tried to fight against my inherent need. Granted, it was very difficult, what with about a third of Asher’s c*ck pressing into me. I felt it, a warmth, a promise of more. His heat mixed with my arousal and, to tease me, every so often he flexed his cock, sending a surge of pleasure and promise through me. If I just stayed still and didn’t say anything, maybe I could find a way to get myself off. This was exciting, but different. If I edged my h*ps just so, barely moved, wiggled my lower body up so that my cl*t barely brushed against his stomach(though this was far more difficult than it first seemed), and…

"If you don’t answer me soon, I’m going to pull back out," Asher said.

"No no no," I said. "Yes, I’ve thought about it, but I’m not good enough, Asher. I do like to write, but I don’t know what I would write. How would I do it? There’s a lot to it, you know? It’s not just writing, but editing and then do I send letters to an agent, or directly to publishing houses? Do I want a big publisher or a smaller one, or do I self-publish, or…"

Asher thrust into me. My lower lips kissed around the shaft of his c*ck like a lost lover. He was so close, yet had seemed so far away—if only for a moment—and now he was back again. Home. With me. Inside me, where I never wanted him to leave. He pressed deep into me, slow and relaxed. I savored it, biting my lower lip. Asher tried to kiss me, to distract me, but I whimpered and refused him, never stopped biting my lip. He kissed me anyways, on my nose and my eyelids, my forehead and my cheeks. He kissed me until he was all the way inside me, settled deep and fully, and then he stopped and watched me.

"Will you go out?" I asked. "Just once. Out and in. Slow. I answered your question. Please?"

"Yes," he said.

Out. What was out? I didn’t even know, but it was wonderful. Asher pulled out of me with a slowness I didn’t think any other man could possibly possess. So very very slow, the shaft of his c*ck dragging against my inner walls, teasing and tantalizing me in wonderful ways. The head of his c*ck flared as he flexed it, pounding inside my p**sy like a steady heartbeat. I felt every minuscule piece of his sexual flesh inching out of me.

Then back in. I quivered beneath him, resisting against my natural inclination to grind my h*ps up and against him. Instead, I squirmed. I squirmed because it felt nice and fun, and I squirmed because Asher enjoyed watching it. I loved the idea of him finding me sexier from something as small and inconsequential as that.

"Very good," he said when he was fully back inside of me. It wasn’t nearly enough, but I felt satisfied for the moment.

"Are you going to ask me another question?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, but then he kissed me. I kissed him back, relishing the touch of his lips, reveling in the feeling of fullness brought about by his cock.

And then someone knocked on the door.

"I’ll be right back," Asher said.

"No no no no," I begged. "Don’t, don’t."

But he did. He left me as easily as that, leaving me laying on the bed, nak*d and bound. Asher stepped over to the bathroom and grabbed a bathrobe from a hook hanging on the wall, then draped it over his nude form. He tied the cloth belt loose around his waist and fixed himself so that his erection wasn’t too obvious.

"It’s just room service," he said. "I’ll only be a moment."

I wanted to scream at him, and possibly yell at the man at the door to go away and leave us alone, but I was still nak*d in the bed and if I made too much of a fuss I thought the room service man might get nervous and poke his head in a little too far and see me. I didn’t want him to see me, I wanted Asher to see me. And Asher didn’t want to see me, he wanted to answer the door for whatever room service he’d ordered.

I listened from the bedroom, but I couldn’t hear much. Some exchange of words, a hasty thank you, and then the door closed and Asher wheeled in a cart of some sort. On top of the cart was a platter, and on the platter was an assortment of fruits, with a fondue bowl in a wire holder in the center, and a lit tealight candle beneath the bowl. Asher pushed the cart to the side of the bed, untied his robe and shrugged it off, then hopped back between my legs.

"In," I said. "Please?"

As if this were nothing, not even batting an eye, Asher positioned his hard erection towards my slick folds and pushed inside of me. Not slow this time, but steady, moving back where he belonged.

"Mmmmhh," I uttered.

"Tell me if this is too hot," Asher said.

He tested it first, dipping his finger into the melted chocolate in the fondue bowl, then, satisfied, dragged his fingertip from between my br**sts to my chin to my lips. I licked the chocolate from his finger, sucking and teasing at it, trying to tempt him to stop these games and ravish me.

"It tastes good," I said. "Not too hot, but a little. I can feel it, but it cools down quickly."

Asher nodded. Going back for more, he swirled his finger into the liquid chocolate, then picked it up and plopped it onto my nipple. With long, gentle strokes from his tongue, he lapped up his chocolate treat. I arched my back. The flash of heat on my nipple, then the subsequent twirl of his tongue cleaning it up sent spasms through my body. To make it worse, Asher angled his lower body in such a way that he could grind against my pelvis and torment my cl*t at the same time.

Then, more. Picking up the fondue bowl, he lifted it above my chest and dribbled it onto my br**sts. Hotter coming straight from the source, the molten chocolate dripped onto my body and flowed across my sensuous curves. It formed a river between my br**sts. Part of it snaked its way towards my neck, forming a pool at the bottom of my throat. The rest of the chocolate drifted down my stomach towards the center of my body. Myriad little streams of gooey delight cascaded along the side of my body, while most of the remainder settled into my belly button. A very small amount continued on, stretching across the hood of my clit, to my labia, to the base of Asher’s cock.

Wherever the chocolate touched, it felt like the warmth of a kiss across my body, but without the pressure of lips behind it. Tiny, swift kisses, moving, liquid, over my soft skin, tempting me. Asher replaced the fondue bowl onto its stand. He pulled out of me, then thrust back in. Out and in again, then out and in once more. I felt it, intensified, and wanted him to continue, to smear chocolate all over my body and kiss me and make love to me.