In Service To The Billionaire by Heather Chase Page A

you?”
    “Yes.”
    Eagerly, Sophia pulled his pants down around his ankles, and then off entirely. He didn’t seem to care that they were being wrinkled, so neither did she. He probably had ten thousand pairs of pants being maintained by ten thousand different maids in this titanically large place.
    His cock, enormous, stood at full attention in front of her. The tallness of it, the thickness, the clear pride of every hot meaty molecule—Sophia knew in an instant that her life was complete, seeing such a beautiful instrument. It was as arrogant, strong, handsome as the rest of him was.
    “Oh,” she moaned softly. “It’s perfect.”
    Her hand slipped warmly around the base of the big shaft, the tips of her fingers not even able to meet her thumb. She cooed with awe when, as a response to the attendant nature of her sudden and sensuous stroking, a spurt of hot pre-cum shot up and slid down over her hand and the shaft.
    Leaning forward, she licked it off her thumb—taking care not to touch his shaft with her mouth. He hadn’t allowed her to taste his cock yet, after all.
    He tasted wonderful—so strong and manly. Just like his scent. She wanted to gobble down every bit of it that she could. But she had to wait. She needed his order. Her hand continued to glide up and down his meaty length as she purred and cooed at every little vibration his cock produced.
    “Fuck,” he said, putting a hand through her thick hair.  “You’re good at that.”
    She smiled, licking her lips. “Thank you, Sir.”
    Almost, just almost, she had called him “Master.” Every part of her moaned to do so. But she had to earn it, first. She had to be commanded to—just like for anything else, now.
    “With how good you are at that...it makes me want to ask you...”
    Her breath caught—he was going to ask her to swallow his cock.
    Oh, yes. Oh, fuck yes.
    But...no. He took a breath, grabbing the box he had set on the stand next to the couch. He toyed with its gleaming wooden surface for a moment.
    “I have...” he paused, gathering himself.
    Sophia’s heart raced. He seemed almost nervous! God, she had never seen him like that...and she had certainly not expected to find such vulnerability such a turn-on.
    It was because it was just for her, she realized. He didn't get like this often. Maybe not at all.
    “I have a collar I’ve been saving,” he finished finally.
    Cautiously, he opened the box. Sophia saw it—a pure gold band, three diamond studs in the front of it.
    Sophia put her free hand to her mouth. “Oh my god!”
    In her startled joy, she had stopped stroking him as obediently as before.
    Turning away, he swore, closing the box.
    “I’m sorry. That was...that was too much. I—”
    Sophia, her attention divided a thousand different ways, noticed at last that she had stopped stroking him. She rectified immediately, picking up her attentions once more.
    She begged him, “Put it on me, oh my god, please!”
    He looked genuinely surprised.“W-what?”
    Her stroking of his cock sped up desperately, needing so bad to convey her desire.
    “Collar me, sir,” she cried breathily. “Oh my god, please put that collar on me!”
    With a warm, deep smile, he opened the box again. One of his strong hands came down around her thick volume of hair, wrapping it upward. The other slipped the collar around her neck. It made a satisfying, loud, clicking noise.
    “Perfect,” he said, stroking her cheek.
    Her other hand came up to help her first as she stroked him. Both hands twisting gently, stroking eagerly. Holding him, attending him, serving him, pleasuring him—and now collared by him.
    Her pussy felt like it would vibrate her legs right off of her body. Oh god, she had a collar! She had a collar, and she was owned. Owned! There was no clearer indication than the collar. Its surface, gold and gleaming, was such a hot, reassuring weight around her neck.
    “Thank you, Sir. Please...please, how would you like me to show you my