Bound To You

Chapter 9- Clara

"Let's see how you taste."

Mr. Bettencourt's words lingered in my head, making me question if this was reality or if I was in some sort of fever dream. One of the wealthiest and sexiest men in the world was on top of me, dousing me with affection. I had never been eaten out before, only provided oral sex, leaving me to feel used and half-satisfied. He was about to do it without me even asking. I felt my heart flutter and myself growing wetter at the thought of Mr. Bettencourt pleasing me with his tongue. He continued pulling off my panties, leaving my bra on. Once they were off, he dangled them with one finger in front of my face, "We don't need these anymore." He smirked and threw them on the floor.

Without giving me a chance to react, he proceeded to kiss my neck, giving little love bites here and there to establish his dominance. I didn't understand why he needed to keep trying to prove his power over me. He already had my wrists bound and a few hand prints on my ass to mark his territory. Were the bite marks really necessary? Nevertheless, he continued to kiss his way down my chest, stopping at my breasts and sucking on the parts that remained visible. Then, he started kissing my stomach. Everything in me wanted to take my hands and cover myself instinctively. I was scared he wouldn't find that part of my body attractive. I didn't want to get hit again, however, so I allowed him to continue.

After what felt like an eternity of building up anticipation, Mr. Bettencourt made his way to my entrance, groping me with his hand. He let out a small laugh, "Clara, you're soaking wet for me."

I felt myself blushing. I've never had a man speak to me this way. He was assertive, but also affectionate, something I'd never experienced before. Before I could have another thought, he advanced two fingers into me and flicked them back and forth. "Oh my God!" I accidentally shouted with pleasure.

He immediately stopped and slapped my outer thigh, "Not a sound out of you. Unless you want a gag."

I shook my head and tried to keep my mouth shut as he slipped his fingers back inside me. After a few seconds of that, he took his fingers out and brought them up to my mouth. "Open." He ordered.

Without rebellion, I opened and let him put his fingers in my mouth. I'd never tasted myself before, but I didn't hate it like I thought I would. "Taste good?" He asked.

I nodded and he narrowed his eyes, "I want a verbal response."

"Yes, sir." I said quietly.

"Good." He grinned, "My turn."

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Mr. Bettencourt began going down on me. His tongue circled my clit, making my blood fill with pleasure. Oh God, I'd never experienced this level of satisfaction. He continued to explore my clit with his mouth and suddenly slipped his tongue into me. A warm flush came over me and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I let out a slight moan and then he stopped. Then, I felt a hand over my neck, lightly putting pressure on my throat, "Bad girl, Clara." He was shaking his head, "What'd I say about making noise?"

I laid there in fear, his hand still on my neck.

"Answer me!" He shouted, applying a little more pressure.

"You told me to not make a sound, sir." I managed to squeak out.

"And what did you do?"

"I moaned, sir."

"And is that acceptable?"

"No, sir."

He flipped me over with ease and pulled my hips back so my ass was up in the air. "I guess I should've asked you before, but are you on birth control? You may give me a verbal answer."