At His Desire: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 7 (2 page)

BOOK: At His Desire: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 7
2.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

“You’re
not so bad yourself. Sir.”

His
sharp intake of breath told me the word had its desired effect. His eyes burned
with hunger, and, standing there in a James Bond tuxedo, his wavy hair falling
perfectly around his face, I wanted nothing more than to rip off those clothes
and make love to him here and now.

“Watch
out, Isa. I may just take you over my knee in front of all the investors and
give you the spanking you deserve.”

I
laughed, but his look told me he might not be joking. The doors slid open.

“Come.”

He
slipped my arm through his and led me out into the hotel’s opulent banquet
room. My eyes widened as I took in the scene before me. Men and women draped in
finery mingled among trays of delicacies and champagne, diamonds and pearls
shining in the firelight from a wall-to-wall fireplace on the far side of the
room. The walls were covered in sprawling murals depicting the Greek gods, and
I stifled a grin.
How appropriate to place the richest
of the rich among the gods
.

I’m
sure the guests loved this place the Smith family built just for them.

I
snagged a glass of champagne and took a sip.

Mr.
Drake squeezed my hand. “I have to make the rounds before dinner. Thank God I
have you here, or I don’t think I could make it. Smiling at these people for
three hours straight when all I want is to take you back to the room and do
unspeakable things...”

I
choked, trying not to spit my drink.

“Look
alive, Miss Willcox,” Mr. Drake said, chuckling softly.

He
steered me over to a balding man and his plump wife and smoothly made his
introductions. I took another swig and smiled politely.

It
was going to be a long night.

 

***

 

“I
have a surprise for you,” he whispered to me, nuzzling my neck as we rode the
elevator to the penthouse suite.

“Mmm?”
I wrapped my hands in his hair as he nibbled my ear, my heartbeat pounding with
each touch of his lips.

We’d
wined and dined the night away, and now relief flooded through me knowing that
at least this night had gone as planned. Everything had been organized to
perfection, and the board members and investors seemed to be enjoying
themselves.

The
elevator shuddered to a halt, and I squealed as Mr. Drake scooped me up into
his arms.

“I
think you’re going to enjoy it, little slave,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

He
set me down just long enough to unlock the door at the end of the hall, then
threw me over his shoulder again. I giggled against his tuxedo jacket, the wine
and the intoxicating smell of his cologne making me feel giddy.

He
kicked the door shut and tossed me onto the bed so hard that I bounced. I
glanced around, my breath catching at the view, visible from the huge marble
balcony attached to the suite. Stars winked at me from the clear night sky, and
I grinned. Even when he traveled, Mr. Drake had to be on top of the world.

“You
didn’t answer me. Do you trust me, Isa?”

He
towered over me at the foot of the bed, looking sexy as hell with his tuxedo
shirt half unbuttoned, bow tie hanging askew where I’d tugged it open.

“Of
course I do.”

He
leaned down under the bed and reemerged holding a small travel bag. “Then put
this on.”

I
took it from him, and opened it, not sure what to expect. Part of me feared it
would be another expensive dress, but I smiled at what I saw. A black, padded
blindfold. It was perfect.

My
body tingled all over as I slid it down over my eyes, securing it around the
back of my head.

“Can
you see anything?”

“No,
Sir.”

I
felt him near me, but my world was now as black as pitch. The blindfold molded
itself to the contours of my face, sealing out all light. He snapped his
fingers an inch away from my ear, and I jumped with a little shriek.

“Good
girl. I think you’ll agree, it’s more fun if you’re honest with me...”

Hands
caressed me through my dress, teasing as they ran down my ribcage, stopping
just before squeezing my breasts.

“Hold
your arms out at your sides and lie back, little slave.”

I
let him gently push me down until my head hit the pillow and both arms were
stretched out like a cross. I heard a rustling near my head, but held still,
waiting with bated breath to discover what my master had planned for me.
Something silky wrapped around my wrist, then tightened, stretching my arm out.
I heard soft footfalls on the carpet, and then my other wrist was being bound,
tied in place with something strong but soft. One of his neckties, maybe? I
gave an inquisitive yank, but I was held firm to the bedposts, helpless to
escape.

“Now,
you’re mine to do with as I please. The question is... what am I going to do
first?”

His
low chuckle sent shivers down my spine.

There
was silence for a few endless moments, stretching out until I couldn’t stand
it. I strained to hear him, to figure out where he was. I pictured him staring
at me, bound beneath him, plotting how he could drive me crazy.

I
heard a rasping noise from the edge of the bed, like metal sliding over metal,
and my body tensed.

“Let’s
get these clothes off you. I want to see that beautiful body of yours.”

Something
cool and hard grazed the inside of my thigh, and I sucked in a breath, pulling
at my bonds. Fear sliced through me, irrational but so real it was palpable.
What was he doing?

“Shhh,
little slave. Hold still.”

There
was a sharp, metallic
snip
, and I felt the material of my dress give way, the satin sliding
down my leg.

Oh, God. He’s going to cut my clothes
off.
Picturing
large metal shears anywhere near my naked body sent pins and needles running
through me. But if I trusted anyone with my safety, it was my Mr. Drake. I held
as still as I could, trying not to freak out.

I
whimpered as he dragged the blade of the scissors upward, teasing me, before
slicing through more of my dress. My nerves felt like they were on fire as the
metal moved upward, the cold steel tickling as it moved toward my panties. Arousal
warred with anxiety as the
snip, snip,
snip
moved closer.

My
breathing was ragged by the time I felt the scissors’ edge work beneath the
thin lace. The metal moved slowly, oh-so-carefully, working its way beneath the
crotch until I felt the dull edge caress my lower lips.

“Oh,
God...” I said, my voice high and strained.

One
slice, and the fabric fell away. I realized then I’d been holding my breath,
and let it out slowly.

“You
naughty thing,” Mr. Drake said, his voice a low rumble. “You’re soaking wet
already.”

The
scissors snapped down, and one side of my panties ripped apart beneath the
blades, then the other. The top half fell away, and the scissors moved upward,
caressing my stomach and making me gasp.

I
felt my dress shredding open, the sound of the satin parting whispering in the
darkness. I tried not to move, but my chest heaved with each breath. When the
scissors reached the place between my breasts, they stopped. I knew Mr. Drake
must be enjoying this, watching me tremble beneath him. The thought made me
wish I could take off the blindfold and end this game, but another enjoyed the
sweet torture far too much to stop.

The
scissor blades snapped together, and the rest of the dress fell apart, exposing
my bare breasts, for I hadn’t worn a bra tonight. I felt my nipples draw tight
under the stare I couldn’t see, but could feel with every piece of my being.

I
was his.

There
was another sound of movement, and I felt him draw back. The carpet rustled,
and there was a tinkling noise, a clinking of something against glass. Then, I
smelled his cologne, felt his heat, and knew he stood over me, even though he
didn’t say a word.

I
cried out when the ice cube touched my nipple.

Mr.
Drake circled it gently as I mewled beneath him, and I could practically hear
him smiling. He lifted it away, and I felt his cool breath blowing on my bud,
making it tighten, and my pussy tingle in response. He trailed the ice across
the other, then brought it up to run across my lips. I opened my mouth, and he
teased me with it, letting me suck it a little before taking it away and
running it down the curve of my throat. I shivered.

When
he traced the line of my belly, I was squirming beneath him, the cold stinging
me, but the anticipation, the
wanting
, the cruelest thing of all. I bit my lip when the ice touched
the sensitive bud between my legs, and tried not to scream as he began moving
it in small, deliberate circles.

“Please...”
I whimpered.

He
held the ice still, making me burn beneath him. “Please, what?”

“Please,
Sir,” I breathed. “Please,
Sir!

He
laughed, the sound making me arch into his touch. The ice moved lower, tracing
my folds, making me writhe on the bedsheets.

“Do
you want my cock now, little slave?”

“Yes!
Oh, God, please... Yes, Sir...”

The
ice lifted off my aching sex. I heard the sound of a buckle and lifted my hips,
searching for him with my body. A hand on my stomach pressed me back down,
pinning me onto the bed. Then, he was pushing my legs apart, spreading me open,
and I felt the weight of him lower onto me. I cried out wordlessly, wanting him
inside of me, wanting him to fuck me already, instead of leaving me needy and
burning beneath him. I yanked on my restraints, straining toward him, but
couldn’t budge, the silk tightening against my wrists.

He
pressed into me, aligning himself carefully. Then, his cock rammed into me in
one sure stroke, and I screamed, my head slapping back against the pillow. I
squeezed his hips with my thighs, wanting to be closer to him, to hold him,
even as he ground into me, his pubic hair tickling my clit.

“I
love how much you want me,” he said, pulling out slowly, before thrusting home
once again.

I
bucked up to meet him, my body humming, every cell was alive, every nerve
firing. His lips captured mine, his kiss taking my breathe away. He stroked
into me, and I moaned into him, his tongue matching the rhythm of our
lovemaking.

He
gripped my ass, lifting my hips off the bed so he could hit me even deeper,
pulling me to him with each thrust. My toes curled, gripping at the sheets as
my wrists strained above me. I suckled on his tongue, wanting all of him,
wanting as much as he would give me, my lower lips squeezing him as we collided
together again and again.

“Cum
for me, Isabeau...”

He
gathered me in his arms, my back lifting off the bed as he supported me. I
gasped against his lips, feeling him in every part of me as my pleasure
crested. I came as he commanded, convulsing around him as he held me close. He
groaned, too, and I felt him inside of me, filling me up, sharing my joy as we
both found completion.

We
lay there a long while, him holding me, bodies still joined, our sweat mingling
between us. When he finally pulled away and untied me, he left the blindfold
on. He lay beside me, and I curled onto his chest, the darkness making me feel
safe and warm. Maybe that was why I had the courage to ask what I did.

“Why
me?”

It
was the question that had nagged me from the start.

“Why
am I so different?”

Silence
fell, except for the sound of our breathing and the beating of my own heart, loud
in my ears. Then, he spoke.

“Because
you see me as a man.”

I
wrinkled my forehead, his meaning escaping me.

“Not
as a CEO or a boss or a wallet full of money... You see me for what I am, Isa.
Just a man. Just Chase Drake... And I love you for that.”

I
pulled the blindfold off, letting it tangle in my hair. He was staring at the
ceiling, his jaw set. I touched his face, turning his gaze to mine. I leaned up
and kissed him softly, my lips brushing over his.

“I
love you, too.”

We
didn’t say another word that night, lying in one another’s arms until sleep
finally claimed us both. We didn’t have to.

 

***

 

The
next day moved at a break-neck pace.

Mimosas
and morning golf soon segued into horseback riding for the ladies and Scotch
and cigars for the men. Presentations to the well-lubricated and entertained
board members went off without a hitch. Meetings transitioned into massages at
the hotel spa, then h’ors d’oeuvres and cocktails by the pool.

By
the time evening came, I was exhausted, tipsy, and aching for the weekend to be
over and life to get back to normal, but there was still one more event before
I could crash onto Mr. Drake’s bed and let my exhaustion take over. There was a
high stakes poker game tonight that Mr. Drake said would seal the deal with the
investors.

BOOK: At His Desire: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 7
2.25Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

One Week of Summer by Amber Rides
Pieces (Riverdale #1) by Janine Infante Bosco
Tessili Academy by Robin Stephen
Dark Passion Rising by Shannan Albright
DARK REALITY-A Horror Tale by Mosiman, Billie Sue
Magpies, Squirrels and Thieves by Jacqueline Yallop
TheTrainingOfTanya2 by Bruce McLachlan