THE BILLIONAIRE'S LOVER

8 | IN WHICH SHE IS EMOTIONAL (M)

UK top 100 chart music was playing in the background. 'Gorilla ' by Bruno Mars came on.

Bruno was singing, "Yeah, Got a body full of liquor, with a cocaine kicker and I'm feeling like I'm thirty feet tall, so lay it down, lay it down.'

Malora walked slowly into the middle of the room: her stomach was in knots: her mouth was dry: her eyes are saucers.

When she was two feet away from the bed, he said, 'Stop.'

She stopped.

'Strip. Slowly.'

Malora froze with shock.

He laughed. The sound was soft but carried some hint of cruelty. He was the cat playing with a mouse. From his position of dominance and control he said, 'I won't say relax, I'm not going to eat you, because I am.'

Malora straightened her back and stepped out of her platforms.

'No,' he commanded. 'Not the shoes. Leave them on.'

Silently she stepped back into them. Malora could hear the blood pounding in her ears. No man had seen her nude. She untied the ribbon in front of the diaphanous dress and shrugged. It slipped off her, whispering and sighing.

For a moment Malora stood in her lacy underwear, suspenders and stockings.

Bruno Mars was belting, look what you're doing, look what you've done. 'cause in this jungle you can't run.

For a second Malora thought of Mika, her best friend, saying every puss needed a good pair of boots, and she told herself, sure, why not?  It was just sex.

Malora twisted her hands behind her back and took her bra off. Let it dangle at the tip of one finger before she let it drop.

She saw his chest rise with an indrawn breath, and she slipped the fingers of both hands into the bit of lace and string and eased it slowly down her legs. She came up slowly resisting the urge to cover herself with her hands.

'You have a very, very beautiful body, Malora McCarran,' the man on the bed said. His voice was thick with lust. And his eyes blazed passionately.

'cause what I got for ya, I promise it's a killer, you'll be banging on my chest, bang, bang, Gorilla!

Malora met his gaze again. His eyes were eating her alive. She had never seen hunger like that.

Ohh yeah, you and me baby making love like Gorillas.

'Turn around.'

She turned around.

Hey, I got a fistful of your hair, but you don't look like you're scared you just smile and tell me daddy it's yours.

'Now spread your legs.'

'cause you know how I like it, you's a dirty little lover.

Malora stepped outwards.

'More.'

She obliged. Her calf muscles strained to hold the position in the high shoes.

'Bend forward.'

She bent.

'Touch the floor.'

And you're screaming give it to me baby, give it to me mutherfucker!

Malora spread her fingers, laid them on the floor, and heard his gasp. For some long seconds she was bent forward, her legs spread far apart, and her ass high in the air. His eyes were a hot tingle on her exposed skin. The pose was blatantly demeaning. She should feel degraded and humiliated. Instead there was an unfamiliar heat between her legs. And her belly was clenched with feral excitement.