The Applicant (Belonging to the Billionaire Book 2)


3.00 · 1 ratings · Published: Jul 23rd, 2014 {{ book.ratingTitle }}
After a string of unworthy young women apply to be his personal assistant, billionaire Andre West finally finds an intriguing option in Stephanie Briggs, who walked out on her interview after catching him fuck her friend. When Mr. West sends his kinky secondary assistant, Amanda to deliver an apology, Stephanie decides to see what Mr. West can offer. When she discovers just what he's offering, she can't refuse and consents to put herself in the running for a few final tests...

"You may enter," I said, ushering the applicant into the room. She looked around in awe at the cavernous office and living space. I offered her a seat and she sunk into it, looking toward me questioningly.
"We may as well get started," I said. "Can you tell me your qualifications for this position?"
"Well," she said, "I worked as a secretary at a law firm in town during college." She faltered, giggling. I continued watching her until her laughter died and she continued, "I like this kind of work and your firm is so prestigious that I though it would be an honor-"
"Tell me, Ms. Becca Stephens, do you even know what it is that we do here? And in what world would it be appropriate to wear that appropriate?" I asked, pointing to her blouse, which unbuttoned nearly to her midriff.

She blushed crimson. "Well, the skirt, at least-"

"If it was a foot longer, maybe. But you look dolled up to trick some lecherous old man. Is that what you take me for, Ms. Stephens? Do you think I'm just going to give you a job in exchange for sleeping with me?"

"No, of course not, Mr. West."

I was incensed. I crossed the desk, towering over her.

"I am sorry," she said, looking up not so much in fear as in shock. When she saw me unfastening my belt her astonishment became even more evident. "I thought you said-”

"I know what I said. You're not getting the job. But I am going to give you the fuck of your life. That's what you want, isn't it? You want me to fuck you." It was not a question, but a statement so self-assured that she could do nothing but nod dumbly.

Most of the guys she went out with were more like overgrown adolescents than men. This powerful stranger was like nothing she had ever seen before. She wanted him. More than that, she wanted him to have her. She could feel that she was getting wet and saw, with a small degree of pride, that his cock was already hardening.

"Oh, Mr. West," she said, "I see you have something for me." She stroked my pants, allowing her nails to trail lightly over my erect cock.

"That's right. Now get out of that chair and climb onto the desk."

She clambered up slightly awkwardly. Her skirt was still on, but I could see two things. The first was a great ass. The second was that she had opted against wearing any panties to the interview. She was facing away from me, her ass at chest height. I knelt and flipped her easily onto her back. She let out a gasp as she landed on the hard desk and cried out as I pulled her ankles toward me.

She started to pick herself up and object, but by then my tongue was already buried in her pussy "Oh my god," she breathed. She had never had a man go down on her before and the feeling of a tongue vigorously thrusting inside her, lapping at her G-spot, was better than she could have imagined...

She was warm and so tight that I felt with my tongue her every convulsion of pleasure.

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