Page 37 of Billionaire Alien Boss Daddy

“You’re beautiful,” he replies, and the sincerity in his tone makes my chest tighten. I look away, my fork clinking against the plate, and he chuckles.

“Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re trying to sweet-talk me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He signals for the check, his movements deliberate, and I feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch. When the waiter leaves, he stands, offering me his arm.

“Let’s go.”

I take his arm, my fingers curling around the hard muscle beneath his sleeve. The restaurant buzzes around us, the clink of glasses and murmur of conversation fading into the background as we make our way to the door. Outside, the night air is cool, but it does nothing to soothe the heat building inside me.

“Where are we going?” I ask as he helps me into the car.

He doesn’t answer, but the smirk he gives me tells me everything I need to know.

The door to Simon’s corner office clicks shut behind us, the sound echoing in the vast, dimly lit space. My heart races as he leads me toward the master bedroom, his grip on my wrist firm but not painful. He doesn’t need to pull me; I’d follow him anywhere, even if I pretend to resist.

“Strip,” he commands, his voice low and smooth, like velvet wrapped around steel.

I hesitate for a split second, just long enough to watch his eyes darken with anticipation. Then I move, letting my hands slide up my sides in a slow, deliberate motion. My dress clings to me as I peel it off, revealing the lingerie he insisted I wear earlier. The fabric pools at my feet, and I step out of it, my movements calculated to draw his gaze.

“Good girl,” he purrs, the sound vibrating through me. I can’t help the shiver that runs down my spine.

I drop to my knees, pressing my face against his leg. The fabric of his trousers is smooth against my skin, the hard muscle beneath. “Please, Sir,” I whisper, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please make me cum.”

My hands clutch at his thigh, and I nuzzle against the bulge in his pants. He groans, the sound low and feral, and I feel a thrill of satisfaction that I’ve affected him this much.

“Maybe,” he says, his voice teasing.

I pout, pressing my lips together in a way I know drives him wild. “You’re cruel.”

“And you’re impatient.” He steps back, pulling me to my feet. “Looks like you need some discipline.”

He undoes the chastity belt with practiced ease, the click of the lock making my breath hitch. When the belt falls away, I feel strangely exposed, vulnerable in a way that only he can make me. He removes the plugs next, his fingers brushing against me in a way that makes me squirm.

“Stop that,” he growls, smacking my breast lightly. The sting is just enough to make me gasp. “You’ll cum when I say you can.”

I nod, biting my lip to keep from begging. He grabs a coil of silk rope from the bedside table, the material smooth and cool against my skin as he begins to bind me. The ropes wrap around my body, pulling my arms behind my back and pressing my breasts together. I can feel every twist and knot as he works, his hands moving with precision.

When he’s finished, I’m a mess of silk and desire, my breath coming in shallow gasps. He runs his fingers over the ropes, tracing patterns on my skin, and I shiver as his touch lingers on my nipples.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Soon, my beauty,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. He kneels in front of me, his hands sliding down my thighs. “Patience.”

His tongue flicks against me, and I bite back a moan. He’s driving me to the edge, and I’m not sure how much longer I can hold on. But I know better than to push him. Not yet.

His tongue is relentless, curling and flicking against me with a precision that makes my toes curl. I’m bound, helpless, the silk ropes digging into my skin as I writhe against them. Shomun’s mouth is on me, his lips sucking at my swollen pussy lips, his tongue probing deeper, teasing that spot inside me that makes my vision blur. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.

“Shomun,” I gasp, my voice breaking as his tongue flicks against my clit. “Please, I can’t—I can’t?—”

He doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, his tongue working me over with a skill that’s almost inhuman. My hips buck against his face, but he holds me down, his hands gripping my thighs as he devours me. I’m so close, so close, and when his lips close around my clit and suck, I shatter.

The orgasm hits me like a metoer strike, my body convulsing as I scream his name. I’m squirting, my juices coating his face, and he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he laps at me eagerly, his tongue catching every drop as I writhe and tremble in the ropes.

“You cum so pretty for me,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. He leans back, his face glistening. “I’m almost tempted to skip your punishment for cumming without my permission. Almost.”

I’m still coming down from the high, tiny aftershocks rippling through me as he reaches for the ball gag. I open my mouth obediently, letting him slide it between my lips and secure it behind my head. The leather straps dig into my cheeks, but I don’t mind. I’m too lost in the haze of pleasure to care.

He lights a candle, the flame flickering in the dim light of the room. I watch as he tilts it, letting the hot wax drip onto my skin. It’s not painful—not really. It’s more like a warm shower, the heat just this side of too much. I moan behind the gag, my body arching as the wax trails down my chest, my stomach, my thighs.

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