The Billionaire's Daughter (12 page)

Read The Billionaire's Daughter Online

Authors: Maggie Carpenter

“You’re
such a naughty, spoiled girl,” Dante murmured, as he sensed her orgasm draw
near, and slowly, achingly, pulled himself out.
 
Kate groaned in frustrated disappointment, curling her
fingers into a fist.
 

I’m going to go mad,
she thought.
 
Positively mad!

He
pulled the scarf off her bottom and let it float to the bed.
 
Gazing at her pretty, naked reddened
behind, he clutched her hips and slowly pushed home.

“Feel
every centimeter of me,” he said huskily, “and be grateful.”

“I
do, I am,” she cried, attempting to press against him.
 
His hands were holding her in a vice
grip, making any movement virtually impossible.

Slowly,
methodically, he ground into her.
 
With each thrust she felt herself succumbing to his will, surrendering
to his desire to fuck her as he wished.
 
Though tense with need and excitement she found herself slipping into an
unfamiliar state.
 
One of
acceptance and tranquil submission.

“There
now,” he crooned, “that’s my girl.
 
Do you see what patience can bring?”

She
felt light headed, almost dizzy.

“Yes,
Sir,” she replied softly.

“Now
you must be completely tolerant and accept what I’m about to do.”

The
same lone, probing finger returned to its business.
 
She felt a momentary twinge of resistance but it was short
lived.
 
Her need and his words of reassurance
and direction took hold.
 
To her
surprise and his delight, she opened up to the insistent visitor.

“Enjoy
and accept,” he said softly, still thrusting his powerful member deep inside
her hot, wanting recesses, his curious finger delving deeper.
 
“Move against me now,” he ordered, “and
slip your hand back on your pussy.”

His
imbedded finger remained in place and when she bucked up to meet his cock, it
was forced further inside her naughty opening.
 
She cried out, but filled with a fervent need was unable to
stop her gyrations.
 
Her hand
cupped her pussy and she sighed deeply as her fingers played with her magic
little button.
 

“Sir,”
she suddenly cried, “please?”

“Please
what?” he asked, slowing his pace.

“Please
may I come?
 
Pleeeaassseee?” she cried.

“You’ll
be more patient from now on?”

“Yes,
yes,” she wailed.
 
“I swear.”

The
huge balloon hovered over her and she was sure she would explode at any moment,
permission or not.

“You
sound pretty impatient right now,” he remarked.

“Oh
Sir,” she pleaded, “I don’t mean to.
 
If you think
 
- I - uh -
then ...
 
I .... must...” she
stammered, unable to even finish her sentence.

“That
was the right answer,” he said softly, feeling his own moment beginning to move
through his loins.
 
“Ride me then,
ride me and fuck me until you come.”

“Oh
thank you, Sir,” she wailed, and immediately squirmed salaciously as not a
second passed before the balloon burst and her hot rampart closed around his
turgid shaft, milking him, pulsing and grabbing.
 

Dante
stared down at the sexy girl grinding against him, and watched as she arched
her back, the explosion engulfing her.
 
He thrust his finger deep inside her backside and she shrieked as new
spasms rippled through her body.
 

Gripping
her tightly with his one free hand he surged forward, impaling her.
 
His hot cream shot forth and he
continued to pump vigorously, milking their mutual eruptions.
 
Finally the moment subsided and he
slipped from her depths as she collapsed on her stomach.
 
He fell alongside her, attempting to
catch his breath.

They
were silent for a few minutes.
 
He
moved from the bed and limped into the bathroom.
 
She heard him washing his hands and when he returned and
laid back down, she snuggled against him.

“Dante,”
she murmured, “I don’t know what to say.”

“Hmmmm....
you don’t?” he asked.

He
turned his head and looked into her bright green eyes.

“You
were a good girl and thanked me for permission to come, but isn’t there
something else you’d like to thank me for?”

“Oh,
of course,” she mumbled, flicking her eyes down.
 
“I’m sorry.
 
Thank you, Dante, Sir, for - teaching me some patience - and - about the
staff and everything...uh - for...”
 
she looked back up at him, “for giving me a second chance,” she
added.
 

“Come
here,” he said, raising his arm and pulling her into his shoulder.
 
“In the morning, after we’ve had a good
night’s sleep it will be time to take the next step.”

“Next
step?” she asked.

“Yes.
 
I think it’s time you had some rules
laid out.
 
Rules you have to
follow.”

Kate’s
brow crinkled.
 
She didn’t like
rules.

“But
- um - do you think that’s really necessary?” she asked.

He
squeezed her.
 

“Oh
I it’s definitely necessary,” he replied, “and it’s going to happen right after
breakfast.”

He
yawned.
 
It had been a long, topsy
turvy day.
 
His ankle was throbbing
and he was exhausted.
 

“Now
you must return to your own room, Kate,” he said, warmly.
 
“You only get to sleep with me when I
decide you’ve earned the privilege.

“Ohhh,”
she whimpered.
 
“I really want to
stay with you.”

“And
you’ll not always get your away anymore,” he said, firmly.
 
“As I said, tomorrow we will talk about
rules.
 
But right now it’s back to
your bedroom.”

“I
haven’t exactly done well with rules,” she murmured.

“I’m
aware of that,” he answered, “but that’s about to change.
 
Get on that slip of material you call a
skirt and go up to bed.”

Grudgingly
she rose and padded across the room.

“Oh
- and one more thing, Kate.”

She
turned and looked at him.

Now what?

“If
I see a speck of make up on your face I’ll scrub it off myself.
 
Got it?”

What?
 
None?
 
He can’t
mean that!

She
was standing perfectly still, staring at him, and he could see it was taking
all her resolve not to protest - vehemently.

“Got
it?” he asked again, sternly.

“Got
it,” she replied, and before she could put her proverbial foot into her
proverbial mouth, quickly pulled up her panties and skirt and slipped on the
shirt.
 
Pushing her feet into her
ballet slippers she walked the few steps back to the bed and leaned over to
kiss him.
 
He grabbed her hair with
both hands and brought her mouth to his, kissing her deeply.
 
When he released her she was
breathless, staring at him wide-eyed.
 
He looked at her intensely.

“Rules,
Kate.”

“Yes,
Sir,” she managed. “Rules.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

“Rules
matter,” Dante said firmly, staring at the incredibly pretty face void of the
ugly make up.
 
Without the
distraction of the multi colored, thickly applied eye shadows, her eyes
appeared larger and brighter.
 
Her
lips were full, naturally moist, and it appeared the years of heavy red
lipstick had left a permanent deep pinkish tinge.
 
Either that or it was their natural color.
 
He could scarcely recall the last time
he had seen her without outlandish make-up and her natural beauty shone
through.
 
It almost took his breath
away.

They
were sharing a breakfast of scrambled eggs, tomatoes, orange juice, toast and
coffee.
 
It was an every day
practice for Lois to prepare breakfast for those at the house.
 
After laying out the food buffet style
on the kitchen island, she had left the two alone in the breakfast nook.

“What
kind of rules?” Kate asked nervously.

He
was about to answer when he was interrupted by the phone ringing.
 
There were several lines in the house
and each had its own distinctive ring.
 
The three short bells announced it was the family phone.
 
She looked at Dante with troubled
eyes.
 
She knew it was probably her
father.
 

“Better
answer it,” Dante remarked.

Kate
stood up, scooted across to the phone and pushed down the blinking red
button.
 
It was indeed her father
calling from Paris.

“Hello
Dad,” she said sweetly.

“Hello
Kate.
 
How are you?”

“Fine
thanks.
 
How’s Paris?”

“Wet.
 
I’m calling to let you know your mother
and I have come to a very painful decision about you.”

Kate’s
heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

“I
think it’s time we cut you off.
 
You need to learn the value of a dollar.
 
You can’t hold a job because you don’t need to.
 
I’ll give you enough to find an
apartment - a modest apartment - and a few dollars to get through two
months.
 
You’ll come to work in my
Los Angeles office as a gopher to make enough money to get by.
 
No credit cards, no cash.”

“NO!” she screamed.

Dante jumped up from the table and
quickly took the phone from her hands.

“Mr. Hollister.
 
It’s Dante Giovanni here.
 
How are you Sir?”

“Dante!” Kate’s father exclaimed.
 
“This is a surprise.
 
Excellent to hear your voice.
 
How are you keeping?” he asked, playing
the charade in case Kate was able to overhear.

“I’m doing very well,” Dante replied,
going along with the deception. “Except for the fact that I sprained my ankle
rather badly.
 
Fell out of one of
your trees.

“You did?” the older man asked, concerned
and surprised.
 
This was news.

“I did but it’s nothing serious.
 
And Kate has been nursing me back to
health,” Dante replied.

 
“I can’t imagine my spoiled daughter doing anything like that.
 
But regardless, I’m very sorry.
 
Glad your injuries weren’t any more
serious.”

“I was lucky.
 
But about Kate, she’s very upset. Has something happened?”

He glanced over at Kate sitting at the
table, her face buried in her hands.
 
He was holding the phone a little off his ear so she could pick up a
word or two, perhaps even more.

“I’ve just informed her she’s going to be
cut off and will have to work in my office in Los Angeles as a gopher.
 
She’s going to have to find an apartment
and start supporting herself.
 
I
probably should have done this sooner but better late than never.”

Dante paused.

“May I suggest an alternative?”

“I can’t imagine what it could be,” Bill
Hollister remarked.
 
“She’s been
out of control far too long.
 
Losing
her last job after only a few months was the last straw.
 
I think it’s the only solution.”

“Kate and I have come to a rather unique
understanding,” he said slowly.
 
“If you give me a little time I think I can reform your daughter.”

He watched Kate slowly lift her face from
her hands, hope filling her reddened, puffy eyes.

“Really?
 
I find that hard to believe,” Bill Hollister said,
doubtfully.

“I can certainly understand your
skepticism,” Dante replied, enjoying the conspiracy, “and perhaps I may be wrong.
 
But if you’re willing to give me a
chance I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.”

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