PDF Traced to Work (The Billionaires Domination Part 2) (Billionaire BDSM Erotica)

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Sylvie fancied herself a cowgirl, so loved anything and everything cowboy. All of her boyfriends had been cowboys, though most were the drug-store cowboy variety. Brett actually owned a ranch and raised cattle. That was the best kind of cowboy. With her hands in the air, Sylvie thrust her butt back and rubbed it across Brett's crotch. He ground himself into her butt, and gave her sweet round ass a couple of firm bootie slaps.

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People were glancing at their antics, but she didn't care. Sylvie was having the time of her life. I'm going to rock your world tonight , she thought as she leaned back into Brett, reaching her hands back behind his neck as his hands stroked her belly and sides. He was exploring every wild curve of her firm, young body.

Brett was barely avoiding touching her girl bits, and it was driving her crazy. Sylvie wanted his those big, strong hands on her most private parts so badly it hurt. I'm going to ride you all night long, cowboy. Rolling her head back onto his shoulder, she looked up and caught his eyes. Their connection was intense and sucked the air out of her lungs. His hands came up to cop a quick feel, sending ripples through her body.

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He leaned down, and her lips parted as she offered them up to him. Mmm, she groaned as their lips met, and melted into a deep, passionate kiss. Her lip gloss made their kiss feel so slippery sexy, she moaned again, and ground her butt into his crotch. He had a major woody, and a sultry smile started to curl her lips. His hands came up again, and didn't leave her boobs this time. Sylvie savored the feel of them on her boobs, and cursed the tank top and bra separating them. Ay caramba, Brett.

You're making me crazy. The song's not over, he said, his voice deep and husky. Sylvia felt a thrill race up her spine, because he was just as turned on as she was, if not more. He kissed her again. We have another minute to bump and grind against each other, baby.

Sylvie palmed the back of his head, and pulled him down into a fierce, lusty open-mouth kiss, and thrust her tongue in deep. At the same time she ground her right butt cheek into his boner. Brett's hands were all over her breasts. Take me back to the table, and I'll take care of that big boner in your pants, she whispered.

If that's what you want, she said, giving him her best sultry smile. But I prefer reverse cowgirl.

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She tapped the brim of her cowboy hat. Being a wild and wanton cowgirl and all. Hell yeah, baby, let's go get it on, he said, taking her hand and leading her off the dance floor. Sylvie noticed a lot of nasty looks for the other women. She winked at them. They were just jealous that she scored the most eligible bachelor in the city.

One might argue that a twenty-two year old was too young for a worldly thirty-five year old man. Sylvie wasn't one of them. She liked her men a little older. Here, have a double, Brett said when they reached the table.


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He poured her some gin and handed it to her. It'll limber you up. Good shit, but I prefer tequila, she said, loving the burn. Sylvie wagged her brows suggestively at him. But I don't need it. I'm very, very limber.

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I bet you are, Sylvie, but booze doesn't limber up your body, he said. It limbers up your inhibitions. If you know what I mean. She threw her head back and laughed. Don't I know it.

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When I'm drunk, I'll do anything. And I do mean any fucking thing. Exactly, she said, noticing him getting a lot more excited. Though, it did make her wonder what he had in mind that made him think she needed to have her few inhibitions loosened up. Sylvie snuggled up close as they stood beside the table, and enjoyed how his arms went around her and held her tight. She kissed his chin, and then traced his lips with the tip of her finger. Have you decided what you want? You want me to go down on you, or will it be reverse cowgirl?

Hmm, as much as I love getting a great BJ, getting reverse cowgirl from a real live cowgirl is just too enticing to pass up, he said. It would be nice if you lost the top and bra. I bet it would. Everyone in the club would enjoy that, Sylvie said, grinning wickedly. But why don't I just lose the bra, and you reach up under my shirt? Brett stiffened, his arms tightening around her. Sylvie looked over her shoulder to find two of the club's black-clad bouncers giving them the evil eye.

It looked like they expected trouble. Brett had a reputation as a tough guy, as someone who couldn't be pushed around. He had the physique and the money to back it up. Patrons are beginning to complain about you two, the other bouncer said. You have to leave. Sylvie panicked. A brawl could very well ruin everything for her.

The confrontation was already changing Brett's mood. She wore a gorgeous slim-fitting black gown that hugged every wicked, sweet curve and strappy bright red platforms adding four inches to her height. The stilettos made him drool. The red made him insane, tantalizing him like a bull in a ring. Some poor sap actually paid for her services and took her out to eat? He ran a hand over his face, rubbed his eyes, and then gripped his head like he had a headache.

What the hell am I doing? Am I actually this desperate? By her. Two of them are married, all of them are pretty well off. She takes them out to dinner first. Only then do they get to go to the hotel with her.