Bared by the Billionaire (13 page)

Kyra thought she’d collapse if not for the desk holding her up. The pain was intense, worse than the spankings he’d given her before. She shuddered with each stroke. Her panties hadn’t provided much protection but she fervently wished she still had even that thin layer between her sore bottom and the hard leather crop. He delivered the blows slowly, allowing her anxiety to build up again before each harsh whack. Somehow she managed to count them all, sagging over the desk in relief when she got to twenty.

Harmon stepped away and laid the crop on the desk in front of her. A firm hand slid down, squeezing her inflamed ass. She heard the headmaster’s voice.

“What do you think, Mr. Harmon? Is her bottom a satisfactory shade of scarlet to atone for the nasty things she said to you?” The hand moved down between her legs. “What have we here? A definite dampness in this area. Mr. Harmon, we may have a more serious problem than I originally thought. It seems that instead of being chastised, our new student has become aroused by her punishment. I believe we need to take it to the next level.”

“Yes, sir, I agree.”

She could swear Harmon’s voice came from across the room. But then whose hand was insolently probing between her legs? Kyra shuddered again, this time in anticipation of what wickedly arousing torment was in store for her next.

“Mr. Harmon, bring me the instrument we use when we want to drive home just how naughty one of our students has been.”

Harmon walked over to the desk and reached into a drawer. His hand came out holding a silver butt plug. Kyra’s eyes widened. It was narrow at the tip, flaring out into a frightening circumference before narrowing again just above the flat base. She started to bolt upright again, but firm hands pushed her back down over the desk.

“Spread your legs, Miss Thornton.” The headmaster’s words were punctuated by sharp slaps to the insides of both her thighs. A shiver of fear tinged with shameful desire shot through her as she moved her legs apart.

Harmon walked around the desk and once again Kyra saw everything as a spectator. She watched him spread the burning red cheeks of her ass apart, as she felt his strong hands. The image zoomed in suddenly and Kyra could both see and feel everything as the cold metal tip of the butt plug slid into her tight hole. She gasped as the implement invaded her, slowly, relentlessly worked deep inside, stretching her further and further until finally she did cry out. When he pushed it against her entrance one last time, her bottom closed around the narrow base, holding the plug firmly inside her.

“Stand up, Miss Thornton, and walk over to the blackboard.”

Now Kyra noticed a blackboard on one wall. Had it been there all along or did it just appear? It really didn’t matter, she realized, as she watched herself shuffle awkwardly to the side of the room, her panties still around her knees. The tiny skirt seemed to have shrunk even smaller, barely covering the angry red marks on her bottom. Every step made the huge plug shift in her ass. The sensation was not unpleasant and the pain in her bottom started to fade into a spicy sting.

“Get down on your knees in front of Mr. Harmon. He’s going to go back over the lesson you missed today. You will pay attention. After the lecture, he’ll administer a quiz. Every question you miss will earn you five more strokes of the crop, along with five minutes standing in the corner afterwards, with your skirt up and your arse on display. That special instrument of punishment will remain in place in your bottom until the entire session is over.”

She got to her knees and Harmon unzipped his pants. His cock stood out, hard and ready. Kyra didn’t need to be told what to do next. She took him into her mouth. It was long and hard, and it tasted and felt like Harmon’s real cock. She licked the head eagerly, then started to suck it, hardly registering the drone of facts and figures regarding the reign of King George the First in the background. She could see the headmaster out of the corner of her eye, stroking a bulge in his trousers as he watched the action. Harmon’s hands guided her head, shoving it down further on his stiff rod. His voice kept on, the tone monotonous, even as he began pumping his hips, fucking her in the mouth. She took him in, the whole length of him. He picked up the pace and she felt his body start to quiver.

Emboldened, Kyra cupped his balls in her hand, raking them with a fingernail. She heard him groan, and sucked harder, swirling her tongue around the head. He shot his cum down her throat and she struggled to swallow it all without gagging. Then he stepped away, zipping up his pants as he did. The headmaster walked around to stand behind her.

“Get on your hands and knees now, Miss Thornton. It’s time for your quiz.”

Kyra bent over, resting her hands on the floor in front of her. With her skirt still up around her waist, her hot red bottom was on full display, with the flat end of the butt plug sticking out. Harmon asked her a question about his lecture. Kyra’s mind was in a fog. She couldn’t tell whether it was the real Harmon or the virtual one. Or were they one and the same? She stammered, then squealed when she felt the headmaster’s hand start manipulating the plug buried deep in her ass.

“That’s one wrong, Miss Thornton.” He shoved the plug back in, twisting it as he did. Kyra moaned, everything else forgotten in the unfamiliar but increasingly arousing sensations. Harmon kept on asking questions, and Kyra could barely concentrate. Her ass, still stinging from the hard crop, was being teased and tormented the whole time with the huge plug, ramping up her desire to a harsh, raw hunger.

“Your quiz is over,” the headmaster finally announced. “You did very poorly, missing four out of five questions. You have twenty more swats coming, Miss Thornton, and then twenty minutes of corner time with your hands on your head and your skirt tucked into your waistband.”

Her bottom was stinging, her ass was filled and stretched, but her pussy ached with need. Kyra never knew she could be so turned on by being punished and plugged. Suddenly the headgear was unsnapped and Kyra blinked at the bright lights in the lab. Harmon stood in front of her, wearing the same clothes he’d had on in the virtual world. She was crouched on her hands and knees on the floor in front of him. She looked around but didn’t see anyone else in the room.

Harmon helped her up, took her by the hand, and led her over to one of the armless chairs across from the sofa. Every step she took wiggled the butt plug lodged inside her ass, sending a strange thrill through her body. Her pussy was dripping wet and after being teased and tormented last night without release, she was desperate to come.

“We’re going to finish this scene in the real world,” he said, sitting down and pulling her over his knees.

She shuddered as his palm cracked down on her sore bottom. He plunged two fingers deep into her pussy and Kyra nearly exploded right then and there. She squirmed on his lap, and although she could swear he’d just come in her mouth, she felt the unmistakable outline of an erection straining against his jeans. Surprised, she rubbed her mound against the hard bulge. He spanked her firmly a few times with the flat of his hand, and then he’d stop and finger her pussy or stroke her clit or wiggle the butt plug around inside her.

Kyra lay there draped across his lap, hotter than she’d ever been. She felt her orgasm building, and when Harmon swatted her one more time, it broke over her and she screamed, shaking all over, coming hard.

Harmon eased the butt plug out of her bottom. “Now, Miss Thornton, maybe you’ll think about what’s in store for you the next time you find your mind wandering during your lessons.”

He pulled her up off his lap and bent her over the back of the chair. Kyra felt the head of his stiff cock pushing against her ass.

She opened her mouth to protest, but her words turned into a gasp of pleasure when his hand moved down to rub her still-throbbing clit. “I want it,” she found herself crying out, fear giving way to the frantic need growing inside her again. “I want you to fuck my ass. I want to feel your cock there.”

He worked the head inside her and she let out a little cry of half pain, half pleasure. It was much bigger than the silver plug and so much hotter. He waited a moment, letting her get used to the feel of it, and then started sliding his cock in and out, going a little deeper with each stroke. All the while, his fingers played with her clit and teased her pussy. Pain disappeared, leaving only the powerful craving for more. Kyra moaned and bucked back against him, driving him further inside.

He buried himself deep in her ass. She heard him then. Wordless, savage cries of raw passion as he exploded. The sound stirred something inside her. Shaken to the core, she suddenly realized what it was. Pure joy. The pleasure she felt at knowing she’d made him lose control, taken him to the peak he’d driven her to so many times, satisfied her as much as the shattering orgasms he’d given her, but in a different way. Despite her earlier resolution, when he gathered her into his arms afterwards, she didn’t pull away.

Chapter Ten

Kyra couldn’t hold her tongue any longer.

“Mr. Harmon, as your advisor I can’t possibly allow you to enter into such a one-sided agreement. You’d be giving up billions in potential future royalties by agreeing to accept a fraction of your normal percentage in exchange for the exclusive right to sell in their market.”

“Allow me?’” Jake swiveled his chair to face her, his eyes cold. “Miss Thornton, I do not recall asking for your input. This discussion is between the men in charge. It has nothing to do with you. I asked you here as a courtesy to your position in the company. Do not make me regret my decision.” He turned back to the man across the table, dismissing her. “I apologize for those rude comments from my employee, your highness. Please, Sheik Rahmadi, go on with what you were saying.”

The sheik gave Harmon a slight nod, as if acknowledging that he’d made the only acceptable response to the situation, then went on as if she’d never spoken.

Kyra sat there with her mouth open, stunned. Harmon had to be crazy. How the hell had this man amassed his fortune? Certainly not by making deals like the one being proposed—one he seemed eager to accept.

This meeting was the one Harmon had asked her to prepare for, according to Jessica. Had the woman just been trying to get Kyra in trouble? Kyra remembered hearing on her first day at DreamQuest that Harmon wanted her to familiarize herself with all the details of this transaction. Had Jessica known all the while that her boss wouldn’t welcome any input from her?

She stifled her urge to make a nasty remark and looked around. She and Harmon sat alone at one end of the huge conference table in a private room on the top floor of DreamQuest Designs. Half a dozen men clustered around the other end. Most of them looked rather odd to her, wearing Western-style dark business suits topped with the checkered-veil head garb of the Middle East. Kyra had stifled a nervous giggle earlier when they all walked into the room. It looked to her like they were wearing tablecloths swiped from the Italian restaurant down the street.

Only the sheik stood out, dressed head to toe in the snow white robes of his desert kingdom. His startling blue eyes fastened on hers momentarily and she felt a chill of fear, like a rabbit caught in the gaze of a swooping hawk. Had she’d misjudged Harmon’s skills, his level of self-confidence? Maybe he was intimidated by the aura of absolute power the sheik projected.

She tried one more time to get through to Jake. “Mr. Harmon, I’m sorry, but…”

“No, Miss Thornton, you aren’t sorry yet. But you will be. I did not ask for your opinion nor do I appreciate the continuing interruptions. Now, stand up, turn around and bend over the seat of your chair.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Surely he couldn’t expect her to adhere to their private agreement right here in the middle of a business meeting.

“Jake, please…”

“You will address me as sir. And every minute you make me wait will add to your coming discomfort. Do not embarrass yourself—or me—any further.”

Kyra nearly blurted out her safe word right then and there. But she stopped herself just in time, knowing she’d lose any opportunity to use this job to clear her name if she ended their deal now. Stomach churning, she hesitantly pushed back her chair, rose, and turned her back to the conference table.

Jake got up and stood behind her.

“Pull your skirt up to your waist and then put your palms flat on the seat of the chair.”

She turned to him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “Don’t do this. I’m begging you.”

“That delay just earned you ten more whacks.” He pulled off his belt, doubling it and gripping both ends in one hand.

Kyra closed her eyes and bent over the seat of the chair. Unlike the other days she’d come to the office, she’d been given specific instructions on how to dress for today in a note she found on her breakfast tray. Suspicion crowded the humiliation out of her mind for an instant. Did he have this scene planned even then?

Slowly she pulled up her skirt, revealing her bare bottom, covered only by the narrow strips of elastic that attached her skimpy black lace garter belt to matching thigh-high black stockings. She heard a noise from one of the sheik’s men, a guttural sound, followed by a comment that drew a wicked laugh from the others. Kyra prayed for the floor to open up and swallow her. But her torment was only beginning.

Harmon drew back his arm and she heard the sharp crack of his belt milliseconds before she felt the lick of flame on her bare bottom. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Harmon hit her again and she jerked convulsively. He was spanking her much harder than he ever had before. Or maybe it only seemed as though he was. After all, this was a first for her—having a live audience to witness her punishment, instead of a virtual one.

Harmon whipped her slowly and deliberately, drawing out the pauses between each whack. This was worse than anything he’d ever done. Silent tears coursed down her face, but she didn’t dare move. She heard the sheik make a comment to one of his men. Kyra didn’t speak Arabic, but she’d picked up a few phrases while preparing for this meeting over the last few days, enough to know that he was praising Harmon as a man who took charge of his women. Kyra’s pain and humiliation suddenly vanished, turning to white-hot anger. This wasn’t about punishment or submission. Harmon was obviously using this as a way to gain status in the eyes of the sheik, showing him an American could be tough when it was needed.