My Sex Slave Is A Billionaire

Margaret’s POV

They say the last stage of anger isn’t complete until there is revenge. I didn’t know that phrase was true until two years ago. For two years the only driving force I had was anger and the need to carry out revenge on the man that placed that ever-burning anger in my heart, Raymond Jones. The man who single-handedly ruined my life and reduced me to nothing. The reason I’m back in California.

Last month was when I made the decision to return to the land where I was born, bred, and played. The kind where I first found love and lost it. The land where long-built friendships were destroyed because of greed and money- the root of all evil. It was the opening ceremony of my boss, Williams.

It hadn’t been up to two years since he dived into the hospitality sector and right now, it was safe to say that was a very good decision. Not just for him but for me also. It’d had been a year and some few months since I started working for him and all I can say now is that it'd been the best decision I’d made in a while, if not in my entire life. Presently, he had four hotels here in California and for all four hotels, I was the CFO.

“Dance with me,” Williams said to me after he had finished delivering his welcoming and appreciation speech. I smiled as I stuck out my hand to reach his already outstretched ones.

If there were five good men in the whole world, then Williams was one of them. If there were two good men in the whole world then Williams was one of them and if there is only one good man in the whole world, it was definitely Williams. Smiling broadly, he led me over to the center of the dance floor.

He snaked his hand around my waist which rested on my bare back. Impulsively, I wrapped my hands around his shoulders and angled my head on the crook of his neck and we began to sway in sync with the song. We swayed for a while in that position and I was going to plant my head at the other side of his neck when I saw him.

“That slimy bastard. What the hell is he doing here?’ I mumbled seething.

Thousands of emotions swept through me as I looked at him. I felt anger surge through my veins and the need to carry my revenge on the slimy bastard intensified. Just staring at him made the other emotion I’d tried to conceal over the years stick its head and waved its tiara at me.

Humiliation! I was ashamed that I let myself go like that. I was annoyed at myself for going to jail for a crime I didn’t commit. I felt shame for being foolish and blinded by love because there was no such thing as love. Not within humans at least. As I continued to stare at him, he suddenly turned, facing in my direction the woman that was supposed to be my best friend, Jasmine.

I scoffed and unintentionally clenched my hand. That was when I remembered I was dancing with Williams, my boss and that my clenching hand was pressing tightly around his neck. I released my hands immediately.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I explained feeling embarrassed. A slight blush found its way to my cheeks.

“Oh, it's fine. What happened though, I noticed for a moment there you weren’t yourself. You seemed lost and ready to kill” Williams whispered so I alone could hear him.

The blaring music should be able to keep others from hearing him still he took precautions which further proved how good he was and has been to me.

“I saw him. The man I told you about. Raymond Jones” I didn’t miss how Williams’s eyes widened a fraction before he swiftly turned us around so he could see who I was referring to.

“Where? What is he wearing?” Williams asked.

“Your three o’clock. He is wearing white suit pants, a black shirt, and tunic blazers. Shabby blonde…” that was all it took for Williams to figure him out. That ugly hair of his had always found a way to stick out in public. “Oh, this Raymond Jones? I know him?” Williams announced and I was all the more intrigued.

“How? Where?”

“He is a recent business partner. We’ve been working together for two months now. As a matter of fact, I have a meeting with him tomorrow regarding an unfinished contract”

“I see” I whispered to say that I was shocked would be an understatement. Miracles do happen, don't they?

“Should we go hi?” Williams asked.

“Of course, why not?” I cackled out, smiling as a thought came to mind.

“Shall we?” Williams said, angling his arm, which I gratefully accepted, clutching his elbow. We made a quick stop at some of his other acquaintances before matching over to Raymond and Jasmine.

“Mr. Jones,” Williams said, standing a few feet behind them. Raymond turned to look at acquaintances.

“Mr. Williams .” He responded by sticking out his hand for a handshake.

“Congratulations, my friend,” Raymond added as he shook Williams’s hand.

“Oh, thank you. So regarding our meeting scheduled to hold during the weekend, I’m afraid that I would not be able to. But since I have your proposal with me, you’d be meeting instead with my assistance.” Williams said before clearing a path for me.

"It's a week-long meeting, yeah?" "Yeah," Raymond answered.

“Hello, Mr. Jones. It’s a pleasure meeting you” I said to Raymond sticking out my hand which he gladly took. If he at all felt anything from the confrontation, he didn’t let it show. Which somehow angered me all the more.

“I’ll be looking forward to working with you too, Miss?”

“Phillips,” I answered curtly.

“Your partner is pretty” I added and I didn’t miss how Jasmine trembled slightly at his side.

“See you soon, Mr. Jones” I added as Williams nudged for us to go greet more of his clients.

*****

It was the weekend already meaning, I was in Italy representing Williams at a meeting he has with his business partners. I walked into the warmly lit space.

The conference room was huge; one wall was filled with floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a beautiful view of the Milan cityscape from twenty-five stories up.

Dusk blackened the sky outside, and skyscrapers speckled the horizon with their lighted windows. In the center of the room stood a large heavy wood conference table, and facing me from the head of the table was Raymond. How was he the only one that have arrived? I smelled foul play. He sat there, his brown suit jacket hanging on the chair behind him, tie loosened, crisp white shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and chin resting on his steepled fingers. His eyes were boring into mine, but he said nothing.

"My boss said to give you this" I was leaning over the table, gesturing toward a set of graphs, when it happened.

His hand mashed gently into my lower back before sliding down, settling on the curve of my ass. The warmth from his hand burned through my skirt and into my skin. Every muscle in my body tightened, and it felt like my insides were liquefying. What the hell was he doing? My brain yelled at me to push his hand off, to tell him to never touch me again, but my body had other ideas.

My nipples hardened, and I clenched my jaw in response. Traitor nipples.

"It's been so long. God, I missed you. Did you miss me? I realize I didn't get to apologize. I'm sorry okay?" He breathed.

My heart thumped in my chest, at least half a minute passed, but I didn't say anything as his hand moved down to my thigh, caressing. This was the chance I had prayed for. Our breathing and the muted noise of the city below were the only sounds in the still air of the conference room.

I could see his chest rising and falling, each breath deeper than the last. A muscle trembled in his sharp jaw as his thumb began to move, slowly sliding back and forth, his eyes never leaving mine. He was waiting for me to stop him; there had been plenty of time for me to shove him away, or simply turn and leave. But I had too many feelings to sort out before I could react.

“What are you thinking?” he mumbled, eyes somehow both mocking and eager.

“What do you want from me?” With those eyes still locked to mine, he began to slide his hand lower.

His fingers ran down my thigh, to the hem of my skirt. He moved it up so his fingertips traced the strap of my garter belt, the lace edge of one thigh-high stocking. A long finger slipped beneath the thin fabric and pulled it down slightly. I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling suddenly like I was melting from the outside in. I still wanted to slap him, but now, more than that, I wanted him to keep going.

The heavy ache between my legs was building. He reached the edge of my panties and slipped his fingers under the fabric. I felt him slide against my skin and graze my clit before pushing his finger inside me, and I bit my lip trying, unsuccessfully, to stifle my groan. When I looked down at him, beads of sweat were forming on his brow.

“Fuck,” he growled quietly.

“You’re wet.” His eyes fell closed and he seemed to be waging the same internal battle I was. I glanced down at his lap and could see him straining against the smooth fabric of his pants. Without opening his eyes, he withdrew his finger and fisted the thin lace of my panties in his hand. He was shaking as he looked up at me, fury clear in his expression.

In one quick movement, he tore them off, the rip of the fabric echoing in the silence. He pulled my hips roughly, lifting me onto the cold table and spreading my legs in front of him. I gave an involuntary groan as his fingers returned, sliding between my legs and pushing into me again. I despised this man in a singularly sharp way, but my body was betraying me; I craved more of what he was doing.

Damn if he wasn’t good at this. Here was a man who I wanted to carry my revenge on, and it turned out that right now, what he wanted was me. Miracles do happen. My head fell to the side as I leaned back on my elbows, feeling my impending orgasm approaching fast. I bit his lower lip as my hands made quick work down to the front of his pants, whipping his belt free of the loops. He made a low, angry noise deep in his throat and took my blouse in his hands, yanking it open, the silver buttons skittering across the long conference table.

"Let me apologize to you properly… just you and me, this weekend in Italy. I have a hotel" The man whose soul I wanted so much had just tabled it in my palm and so far, there was no price tag. If he thinks he could use his charms on me like he did many years ago then he'd got to rethink.

But he didn't have to know that right? He slid his hands up my ribs and over my breasts, thumbs slipping back and forth across my taut nipples, his dark stare fixated on my expression the entire time. His hands were big and rough almost to the point of pain, but instead of wincing or backing off, I pushed into his palms wanting more, and harder. He growled, fingers tightening. It occurred to me I might bruise, and for a sick moment, I hoped I did. I wanted a way to remember this feeling, of being completely sure of what my body wanted, entirely unleashed. He leaned close enough to bite my shoulder, whispering,

"We have a deal. And you better make it worth it"

"You know you can always count on my dick and mouth, right?"