Erotic Billionaire 3-Pack (The Billionaire's Contract Parts 1-3)

***

Be sure to check ou
t Emma Rose's latest short stories
:

Aimee Gets the Belt

Bred by the Vampire

Captured by the Billionaire

His Secret Twin

Bred by the Werewolf

Shower Room Three-Way

Sleepover Seduction

Deepest Desire

Punished by the Professor

 

His Every Desire

Emma Rose

Copyright
2012 by Emma Rose

***

Celine Powell was thrilled at being selected as a temporary employee.  The company hired only from within…each year a number of locals was hand selected for temporary hire and regular hires were added from this select group.  At the end of the calendar year, all temps who had not been picked for regular hire were given a severance package and let go.  Celine’s hourly pay rate was more than double what she could have made anywhere else in the county, given her education and training. One of her greatest desires in life was to get a regular job here, and get that parking permit that would allow her to park inside the main gate and park amidst the brand new Beemers and Audis and C-Class Mercedes.

She worked as a receptionist, though she had completed a certification program for executive secretaries that had required a Bachelor’s Degree to even enter. Celine was certain that she had been selected for the receptionist’s job because of her looks rather than her accomplishments, but it really didn’t bother her…she was making more money than any of her friends from college.

Celine’s hair was a bright natural blonde, wavy and hanging past her shoulders in a gorgeous cloud. Her smooth complexion, chiseled features, and violet eyes would have guaranteed she got second looks from guys, even if they hadn’t topped a slender figure with largish breasts, trim waist, and endless legs. She had always been meticulous in her dressing habits, investing in high quality clothes and concentrating on quality rather than quantity…she was expert at mixing and matching her clothes and accessories so that no one really knew how little she had to wear. Celine was rudely shocked when the elegant director of human resources called her into the HR office after she had only been there three weeks. 

Sylvia Henderson was a slender, beautiful woman who was wearing more money in clothing on her model’s frame than Celine’s father had ever made in a years.  Normally, as Director of HR, Sylvia would have nothing to do with hiring one of the temps to a permanent position, but this position was unique, and Sylvia made certain that Celine was aware of that fact as soon as she was seated in the office.  Sylvia explained that she had been selected originally because of her impeccable academic record.  “Your background has been thoroughly investigated and you have been selected for the next step in the process of replacing one of the most sensitive positions this company has to offer,” Sylvia told her.  “The job is unusual, incredibly demanding, and will require many nights away from home. It is a salaried position, so there is no overtime.” Sylvia paused for a moment to see if this last had given Celine any second thoughts. She waited for a moment to see if Celine had any questions or reservations. Sylvia made a note that Celine was poised, curious, and not prone to making snap decisions until she had all the facts.  The young woman was certainly shaping up to be a great candidate.  “Have you got a current passport?” Sylvia asked.

Celine shook her head no, wrestling with her growing excitement at the prospects of the job she might be offered. Sylvia asked her about foreign languages (Celine spoke fluent Spanish because her family had employed the same Mexican woman as a housekeeper for the last twenty six years, and she had studied and mastered French while she studied for her degree in Liberal Arts at Florida State University.) When Sylvia finished the interview, she gave no indication if or when Celine would be called for a second interview.

Two weeks passed without any word at all regarding her interview. Celine was wondering about how she had done late one afternoon of the third week since the interview when the front glass doors of the building slammed open hard enough to make the glass shiver in its frame. A breathtakingly sexy man strode through the door speaking a mile a minute to a harried looking man trotting to keep up with him.  The sexy man stopped at the reception desk and stared at Celine. The harried looking man handed her a business card, scribbling a cell phone number on the back of it. “In case you need to get hold of the boss quickly,” he said with a smirk.

Celine didn’t look at the card, she coolly evaluated the man standing and staring at her while talking on his iPhone.  The suit was obviously, to her experienced eye, a Brioni that cost as much as her car had cost new.  He wore hand lasted wing tips, and his shirt seemed to be of high thread content Egyptian cotton…the tie looked French and was obviously silk. He had a handkerchief folded and sticking out of his breast pocket that matched the silk tie exactly.  A Breitling chronograph peeked out from beneath one neatly shot French cuff. Not one wavy raven black hair was out of place over his chiseled features, and his steely blue eyes seemed to strip her down to her very bones.

Celine felt naked as he looked her up and down…but rather than offending her she was oddly pleased.  Carefully she postured for him, thrusting her proud breasts towards him and cocking one hip to accentuate her long, sexy legs.  With a little thrill she wondered if he knew her nipples were rigid. The man turned on his heel and the harried looking man rushed after him. Celine suddenly realized she had been holding her breath, and let it out in a whoosh. Her knees were trembling and her heart was racing as she looked towards the door he had entered. No one had entered that door since she had been hired to work the reception desk five weeks before.

Sitting down at her desk, Celine glanced down at the business card the harried looking man had handed her. 

P. Winston Dunn

CEO, PiezoTec Corporation

The words were embossed, not printed, on the simple, elegant, and obviously expensive rag based paper.  She had finally met the “Dragon,” as he was known privately and extremely quietly. Everyone seemed to respect him, but there was more than a little fear and awe in their voices when they spoke of him. Celine didn’t fear him at all. The moistness between her legs was unmistakable…she wanted P. Winston Dunn right where the heat was…between her slender thighs.

Her sleep was fraught with dreams that night. She tossed and turned, finally throwing off the scanty teddie she usually slept in to sleep nude atop the cool cotton sheets of her bed. His self-confidence and his bearing were just as sexy and attractive as his good looks and impeccable clothes…everything about the man seemed to be designed to excite Celine.  She shivered and put her hand to her wet pussy. In moments she was exploding, and she had to stuff her pillow in her mouth to make sure her neighbors couldn’t hear her screams of passion. As she drifted, exhausted, into troubled sleep, she had another thought that sent shivers up her spine. When P. Winston Dunn had stared at her with those steely, icy blue eyes, he was appraising her as if he owned her, had the right to do with her as he pleased. The outraged feminist in her was quickly drowned and submerged inside her. If any man
ever
owned Celine Powell it would be P. Winston Dunn. Celine was almost purring as she drifted off to sleep.  Deep inside, she knew she was already hooked.  If P. Winston Dunn ordered her to strip off her clothes and blow the janitor for his own pleasure, Celine would gladly do as he told her.

She was more than a little surprised when she found a note on her desk showing an eight fifteen appointment with Sylvia.  Thoughts of P. Winston Dunn leapt from her mind as she sought to prepare herself for a possible second interview with Sylvia.

When she entered Sylvia’s office at eight thirteen, the ambiance of the office seemed different somehow.  There was a silver coffee set with the thinnest, most translucent porcelain cups she had ever seen.  Sylvia wasted no time on the trivialities…she poured coffee for them both and got straight to the point.  “You’ve been selected for a final interview for this position,” she said, “and I am authorized to tell you the rest of the requirements for this position, and finally, the compensation schedule.” She took a deep breath.  “
This
is
a
really unusual job.  It will require yo
u to work in close proximity to
males for extended periods of time, and there will be some lack of privacy at times…it can’t be helped.  We are deeply involved with the U.S. Defense industry, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what a cutthroat business this is.  By its very nature, our business has to remain secret…one slip of the tongue can literally give away billions of dollars in revenue.” 

For all the fact that Sylvia insisted on getting directly at the meat of their subject, Sylvia seemed to be hedging a bit, tiptoeing around something she was not comfortable with. Celine decided to risk a humorous question to try to lighten the atmosphere…she decided to risk it because Sylvia’s sudden reluctance to get on with it was giving her the first doubts about what she was getting into.  “Who do I have to kill?” she asked with a smile.

Sylvia was thrown off stride by the question. “Well, we hope it won’t come to that, but you could conceivably be placed in that position as a last ditch effort to protect your principal,” she was told. “I’m sorry,” Sylvia said, “Would that be a problem for you?”

“No,” Celine answered calmly, “as you are aware, my father is a career police officer, and I understand about security, I just was not aware that this was a security job.”

“Oh, it’s not,” Sylvia said, “I mentioned that it was a last ditch possibility, and it is.”  She sipped the delicious coffee. And Celine felt comfortable following her lead.      

“I’ve only done one of these particular interviews before, and it’s such a cloak and dagger thing that I’m still a little careful how I approach it.” She presented a short written contract to Celine. Celine, a trained speed reader, read the contract through and gazed into Sylvia’s eyes. What she had read bothered her a little, but she wanted to know how much something like this was worth. “How much?” she asked directly.

Sylvia matter of factly wrote a figure at the bottom of the contract where a salary was specified, a figure in the mid six figures.  Celine never hesitated, she simply signed and dated the contract, and handed the contract back to Sylvia with a smile.  Sylvia smiled back and hugged her.  “Welcome to the family,” she said. She handed Celine a box full of business cards.  “You’re to go in at precisely nine a.m.,” she said, “you understand you are
to
do
whatever
he says without question, immediately, or you are subject to disciplinary action?” Celine nodded.  “As the contract specifies, your contract is year to year, and either of you can terminate the contract at will.  Good luck Celine.” Sylvia poured more coffee for both of them and they sat comfortably, making small talk.  Celine felt her excitement building.  The business cards Sylvia had handed her were for P. Winston Dunn.

At precisely nine a.m. Celine entered Dunn’s office and her life changed forever. She stepped before his desk and looked him directly in the eyes and started to tell him her name.  He never looked up from the document he was speed reading and held a finger up for her to be silent…her mouth snapped shut. He put the paper down and picked up another without looking up. “I know who you are,” he said, “never interrupt me when I’m reading.”

“Yes sir,” she said. 

Immediately he raised his clear blue eyes to her.  “I’m not in the habit of repeating myself,” he said.  “If you aren’t willing to abide by the terms of the contract, you can leave now and go back to the reception desk.” Celine looked down at the floor, nodding.  “Bend over my desk.” Celine complied immediately, humiliated.  P. Winston Dunn stood up, shot the cuffs of his shirt, and walked around until he was standing beside her.  He put his hand on her firm ass, and then reached for the hem of her dress.  When he lifted it, he exposed a creamy white pair of tiny bikini panties. He smacked her ass, hard, leaving a bright red handprint on her.  He smacked her again, hard.  Helplessly, Celine felt her pussy become soaked.  Humiliated even more, she felt her thighs part and her ass thrust up…she was horrified, but more than anything else she wanted him to spank her again.  She had to bite her lip to keep from begging him to do it again. He rolled her over and his hand brushed across the front of her panties, causing her to cum.

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