The Billionaire's Virgin

To be honest, though, now that I’m in my underwear, I can feel the faint breeze in my room against the fabric of my panties, and I am acutely aware that he’s not the only one enjoying this. I’m even starting to relax a little, adjusting to being mostly naked on camera. I look fucking hot, judging by the little corner of the screen that shows me his view.

I wonder vaguely if I should be nervous about baring it on cam. But it’s not like guys haven’t seen me in bikinis before. That’s as much fabric as I’m wearing right now. If he asks me to go any farther, I think I’ll hesitate. Videos like this get leaked of girls all the time, circulated to their friends, their teachers . . . Their grandmothers, I think, and it takes every ounce of effort I have not to flinch.

Gram would literally die if she could see me right now. So, no complete nudity on cam.

Thankfully, without me needing to say so, Pierce seems to sense that’s a line I won’t cross. Unfortunately, he seems much more interested in baring me verbally before him. “What about your ass? Has anyone fucked that gorgeous ass of yours, Bonnie?”

“N-no, sir.” Fuck I am so wet right now. The idea of anal terrifies me, but hearing him talk about fucking me so straightforwardly . . .

“Good. Have you had a man’s cock in your mouth? Have you ever licked a man’s balls, or wrapped those perfect, sexy lips of yours around his dick?”

“No, sir,” I breathe. Suddenly I’m finding it hard to keep my voice even. My heart is beating rabbit-fast, and the tingles have spread from my stomach all the way down to my toes.

“I’m glad to hear it, Bonnie. Do you know why?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. My heart beats so loud it’s a wonder he can’t hear it through his speakers. “Why, sir?”

“Because I am purchasing your virginity, Bonnie. If you agree to this contract, that means I get to take every single virginity you have. You will be mine, until I have taken what I want. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” My nipples actually ache, they’re pressing into my bra so hard. My knees are trembling, and not from fear anymore.

I have never been this turned-on in my life.

Still, my mind keeps darting back to the questions he asked. About anal. About oral.

“But . . .”

“Are you still interested in pursuing this contract with me, Bonnie?” He cuts me off. “Be very sure of your answer. I want you to want this as much as I do.” His eyes bore into mine. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to, and oh, I do not want to. “When I fuck you, Bonnie, I intend to make you come so hard you forget your name. You will enjoy yourself. You will fucking love it. And when I am finished fucking your mouth and your ass and your pussy, and when I’ve made you cum enough to please me, you will be paid in full. But I am doing this for my pleasure. Your number one priority will be pleasing me, for the duration of our contract.”

“I understand, sir,” I reply through trembling lips. What am I saying? Have I really thought this through? And what does he mean, all my virginity? “I just have some concerns . . .”

“Naturally,” he says. “But you must understand. This is a one-time offer. All or nothing. That’s what I’m paying for.”

Don’t do this, screams the sensible half of my brain. But the blood has all flooded from my brain to my pussy now, and it’s not really my sensible half calling the shots anymore.

Besides, even my sensible half is desperately, painfully aware of how much I need this money. Not just for me. For Gram. For my future, for school. Hell, with that kind of dough, I could swing for an apartment for Erin and I next year where we don’t have to fend off roaches on a regular basis.

I swallow hard, trying to wet my suddenly dry tongue. “I want to do this, sir. I want you to . . .” I trail off, hot in the face.

“Say it. Tell me what you want me to do to you, Bonnie.”

I swallow hard and lean in close to the laptop. “I want you to fuck me,” I whisper.

Bang bang bang.

I leap back from the computer like I’ve been scalded, yelping. But it’s only Erin outside, pounding on my bedroom door.

“I come bearing Starbucks,” she yells. “Get it while it’s hot, Sleeping Beauty!” She starts to turn the knob, because we have a pretty casual “come in unless there’s a scrunchie hanging on my doorknob” policy (and of course, the only scrunchies around here have been on her door, not mine).