A Bona Fide Gold Digger (27 page)

“Brilliant, absolutely brilliant,” Dr. Pauley emoted, nodding her head vigorously.

“Brilliant,” the other members agreed, clapping their hands enthusiastically. The room was filled with the thunder of applause.

The tables had turned, one-eighty. It was amazing how easily she had reduced the arrogant chairperson to a groveling peon. She would have never expected Dr. Kayla Pauley to kiss up with such enthusiasm. Obviously, it would be just a matter of time before the woman was literally kissing her ass. Yes, there was a thin line between submission and dominance and Milan looked forward to training the insufferable Dr. Pauley.

After a lifetime of sexual confusion, Milan had finally discovered her true nature. She was a fem/dom.
I’m a fem/dom diva
, she thought to herself, expounding on her identity.

There’d be no more bottoming for her. She promised herself that she’d never again take an order from anyone. She wished Gerard much success with his and Ming’s training center, but she doubted if their facility could begin to compete with the enhanced version of Pure Paradise once it was up and running.

She made a mental note to check out their training center. If it struck her fancy and if it seemed worth her while, she’d engage in yet another company takeover. In the meantime, she’d content herself with running her business, amassing wealth and building a stable of willing human property.

After Milan dismissed her attorneys and the members of the board, she gazed at Maxwell Torrance, who sat at the far end of the conference table.

“Are you happy, mistress?” he inquired, loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. His collar, a thin platinum band with a dangling tag that proclaimed Milan to be his owner, glimmered brilliantly.

“Come to me,” Milan said breathily. Aroused by the collar, she raised her skirt and slid down her panties.

Maxwell stood at her command, caressing the collar.

“Crawl,” she ordered.

Wearing a look that was a mixture of devotion and gratitude, he dropped to the plush carpeted floor. As her devoted property crawled toward her, she took in a satisfied burst of air. It didn’t get much better than this—sitting at the head of the conference table waiting for the man who’d made it possible, crawl to her and lick her pussy in gratitude at being owned by her.

Undoubtedly, she had it all. Her sister had once claimed that no man would ever find her loveable. Milan shrugged as she inched her naked ass to the edge of the resplendent board room chair and pointed a leather boot. Next, she gave a strong yank to Maxwell’s hair, prompting him to open his mouth. “Remove my boots…with your teeth.”

Instantly, he opened his mouth. Expertly, he did as he was bidden and used his teeth to unzip his owner’s two-thousand-dollar Manolo Blahnik stretch leather boot. Without needing further instruction, the billionaire on the floor—a respected CEO of several Fortune 500 companies, clamped his teeth around the heel of Milan’s boot and tugged it until he worked the boot off her foot. Milan smiled contentedly. She didn’t need a man to find her loveable when she owned a filthy rich man who worshipped her totally.

Yes, her life was completely fulfilling—it was grand, indeed. While her other boot was being unzipped, Milan’s mind drifted to her to-do list. The only thing still pending was the writing of her how-to-book,
Weekend Escape: Your Spa at Home.
She made a slight frown. At this point, she really had no interest in writing
that
book.

“I’ve got a great idea,” she said, as she rubbed her now bare feet playfully through her property’s hair and across his face. He responded by kissing her feet adoringly. “I’m going to write a book,” Milan exclaimed. The working title is:
Train Your Man in One Weekend: He’ll Service You for the Rest of Your Life!
”

“Genius, Mistress. Pure genius,” Maxwell Torrance agreed.

Aroused by the idea of a potential bestseller, Milan pulled her feet away and nudged the head that was bowed in reverence. At her signal, Maxwell lifted his head and pressed his lips against her vagina. Moans of contentment escaped his throat as he flicked his tongue back and forth across the labia and clit he adored.

When Milan gave the next signal, he probed inside with a curled tongue, sending jolts to her system, making her draw up her legs to receive deeper tongue penetration.

Later, when Milan and Maxwell exited Pure Paradise, the broad-shouldered driver promptly opened the door for the attractive pair.

At first sight, curious eyes would see an impeccably groomed power couple. The platinum collar of ownership hidden beneath Maxwell’s tightly knotted tie declared him Milan’s property as did the slowly healing burned skin on his forearm where he’d been branded with her mark of ownership.

“Let’s take Maxwell home,” Milan told the driver.

The driver and Milan made eye contact in the rear view mirror. Her eyes told him she’d had an arduous day; she’d experienced the kind of stress that even the most skillful tongue could not begin to relieve. What ailed her lay deep within and only a long dick with sizeable girth could make contact with the soft spots that were clenching and demanding satisfaction.

She leaned back against the posh interior of the Rolls Royce and closed her eyes. She instantly saw a visual of Kayla Pauley’s attractive face buried between her legs, Kayla’s slender neck graced by a platinum ownership collar. The visual was arousing as hell.

Hornier than ever, Milan leaned forward. “Speed it up, driver.”

“No problem.” He pressed down on the gas pedal. One hand held the steering wheel while his other hand stroked the dick that pulsed until it became lengthy and thick. The car, the driver, as well as the driver’s oversized appendage belonged to Milan now, a very extravagant gift given to her by the man who sat contentedly in the rear seat beside her. For Milan, life had become a series of sexual conquests—numerous men and women angling to lap the nectar from her honey pot.

But tonight would be a special treat: no lips, no tongues, no fingers. Milan was ready for the kind of release that those body parts could never induce.

Very soon, she’d feel the driver’s raw meat pushing inside her, indulging her with its thickness. She’d ultimately receive a powerful orgasm that only a skillful big dick could generate. But she’d have to be careful—she’d have to keep her guard up. For she knew that a man packing a good-sized dick could lead the most focused woman astray.

She gazed in the mirror again and gave the former NFL player a sultry smile. He winked at her and grinned. It was the kind of cocky grin that reflected the major come-up he expected after he successfully dick-whipped Milan.

But Milan knew better than to give another man the upper hand. Gerard had taught her well. She smirked at the driver’s stupid self-assurance.
Let the sex games begin!
Smiling smugly, she envisioned the macho ball player being led around on a leash.

She eased back and gave a satisfied sigh. It was her world and life was grand, indeed.