Bound by Duty: Servicing the Billionaire Part 2 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (2 page)

She took his proffered arm, and together they
descended into the parking lot.

* * *

The doors to the Polish Laundry swung op
en for them, and the soft wail of violins
accompanied by the bell-like sounds of piano added warmth to the
dimly
lit restaurant. The most tantalizing smell wafted from the kitchens and Mary licked her lips unconsciously.
She recognized the name of the restaurant. It was considered one of the best restaurants in the world and had three Michelin stars. It was also impossible to get a reservation.

“Mr. White, they won’t let us eat here.”

“Why not?”

His thumb stroked her hand in a way that made her cheeks flush.
“You need to reserve at least a year in advance. Most people stay on the waitlist for years.”

Mary stiffened as she felt his hand glide over shoulder.

“You forget, Miss Kramar. I am not most people.”

He strode to the host stand with Mary in tow. The hostess recognized Mr. White immediately. Apparently, he dined here often.

“Mr. White, we’re so glad you have joined us. Your usual table is ready.”

Flummoxed, Mary followed the gentle tug of Matthew’s hand.
They followed the hostess into a private room that was quartered away from the rest of the tables. Surrounding the table were glass walls, which held a fantastic view of the restaura
nt’s garden. It was lit in effervescent
blue light. The soft glow of the candlestick and the violin music filtering inside the room
combined to create the most pleasant, beautiful experience Mary had ever had in a restaurant
. Mr. White had fabulous taste. Mar
y watched him mull over the wine list
and wondered if she had judged him harshly.
In the gentle light of the candles, his features were softened and more relaxed than usual. She found herself mesmerized by the wonderful ambiance, and when the waiter stooped to listen to Mr. White’s order, she hardly noticed.

Mr. White sa
t back into his chair and clasped his hands together. He studied her, the slow burn of the candles
reflecting
his gaze.

“You look lovely tonight, Mary.”

The compliment burned her cheeks, and Mary took a sip of water to hide her confusion. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I was impressed with the collection of dresses. How did you know what size I was?”

The waiter returned and poured two glasses of a deep red Italian wine. Mr. White swirled his glass around and sniffed it before tasting.

“I know
everything about my employees.”

Does he know my bra size as well?
S
he wondered.

He looked at her from his wine glass and gave her a knowing grin. Mary tilted her head back and took an unnecessarily large gulp of wine. Heat flushed her skin almost immediately. Mary was small and never had a good tolerance for alcohol.

The waiter brought the first course on two small plates. It consisted of a tiny heap of arugula salad with a dapple of creamy, yellow dressing.

“There are twenty courses.”

Mary stared at the arrangement of silverware around her plate. There seemed to be at least a dozen spoons and forks. Where to begin? Her mother’s voice filtered into her head,
“Work y
our way from outside to inside, hon.”
Mary smiled at the memory. She picked at the salad and ate a few leaves. She was surprised to find it quite delicious.

The rest of the meal continued in silence. While they ate the fifth course, which consisted of homemade perogies with a black truffle glaze on top, Mary watched her boss eat. Mr. White played with his food in an unsatisfied way, taking small bites only to push his plate away in distaste.

“Are you enjoying your meal, Miss Kramar?”

“Very much so, thank you, sir.” She hesitated before asking: “Aren’t you?”

He shrugged in a noncommittal gesture. “Human nourishment has ceased to satisfy me for many decades. Blood
is the only sustenance that I require. And sex.
”
A momentary grin lit up his face. “I do remember in my youth the feeling, how it used to taste,” he trailed off and seemed to look behind her, his eyes unfocused.

Something stirred in Mary’s heart. Pity? She had no desire to contemplate what or who Mr. White was. He was an unfathomable element in her life. Knowing these secrets gave her a certain power over him, and that made her feel uncomfortable.

When the meal had finally ended, Mary was rosy-cheeked and stuffed to the brim.
She had never eaten so well in her life. The waiter dropped the check on the table and Mr. White slid his credit card over it immediately. Mary wondered how much it was. Probably more than she made every week.

Mary clutched Mr. White’s arm as they left the restaurant. She was quite drunk and was determined not to stumble. She followed the tug of his arm, mortified that she was intoxicated in front of the CEO of the company.

The flash of cameras exploded around them. Partially blinded, Mary covered her eyes as they exited the restaurant. Somehow, she entered the town car without incident and glided over the leather seats. This time, Mr. White sat beside her.

He slid an arm over her shoulder and the other hand spread under her dress, curling around her naked thigh.
Her groin was already heated from all the alcohol, and his hand spreading across her sensitive skin made her pussy throb for his attention.

“You smell delicious with all that wine running through your veins,” he
whispered against her ear. He tongued her earlobe for a second. “I bet you taste wonderful right about now. I want to drain you,” he growled.

He slowly loosened the scarf around her neck, sniffing greedily at the fresh wound on her neck. Mary shuddered, her body responding to his cool touch and aching to be claimed by him.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood, though. Just a little bit. Just a little taste,” he seemed to be convincing himself to do something. “Won’t take too much. Just enough to tide me over.”

The hand under her dress finally reached her panties. He rubbed the outside of her swollen vagina, his knuckles grinding hard between her lips. Mary spread her legs as wide as the dress would afford her and bit her lip.

His mouth traveled down her neck and kissed her wound. Mary flinched as his lips brushed her wound, but then his hand was probing around her panties, his fingers dipping into her wetness. Mary sighed as he bit down on her neck, blood spilling from the puncture wounds into his open mouth.

The panties were pulled down to her knees and Mr. White slid his fingers along her wet, eager slit as Mary tried to grind her hips against his hand. Mr. White pulled her over his lap, eager to claim her for himself. His fingers pressed down over her pussy and massaged it in a slow circle. Mary found herself moaning at the tongue lapping at her neck, sucking her, and the tease she was being subjected to.

He was sucking harder and harder, as if she was a soda can and he was fighting to claim the last drops. His thumb spread her lips open and two fingers plunged inside her tight, eager canal. As the fingers curled upwards, Mary screamed in ecstasy. She was beginning to feel faint and Mr. White withdrew his fangs from her neck, licking his lips noisily. She could feel her arousal dripping all over Mr. White’s hand, making incredibly loud, wet, smacking sounds as he pumped them inside faster. He inserted a third finger, and then a fourth. Mary could feel her pussy clenching around his fingers, a delicious sensation rippled throughout her being every time he slammed the fingers home, curling upwards.

His other hand was wrapped around her breasts. Unable to force the dress down, he stuck his hand inside her cleavage, roughly groping her tits and squeezing hard. When Mary felt on the verge of climaxing, he withdrew his fingers and Mary cried out in protest. He brought them to his lips and sucked her essence, licking each finger clean. She turned around and straddled his waist, and he crushed his lips against hers. A heavy passion had seized Mary, the passion closest to the throbbing pain between her legs. She tasted her arousal and blood on his tongue, the mingled tanginess of her blood and the musky arousal combining into a sweet taste.

His hand curled into her hair and jerked her head back. “Get on the floor, slut.” The glint in his eye was dangerous—signifying that he wasn’t satisfied yet.

“No,” she murmured, thinking of the dress.

His hand closed on her neck and tightened painfully around her throat. “What the fuck did you say?”

“I’m sorry,” she squeaked. “I’ll do as you say, sir.”

Panting, Mary did as she was bid and crawled on all fours to the carpeted floor. The car was moving and it made it difficult to keep her balance. She hear
d a rip as the panties were ripped
from her legs in frustration. She was thrown to the side and forced on her back. Mary was scared of the desperate look in his eyes, the blood staini
ng his lips. He flipped the dress over her stomach, exposing her vagina and ass, which was covered in shiny slime.

 
He hastened to remove his belt and pants, his fingers slipped in agitation. She sat up to help up but he snarled in her face and forced her back down, knocking the wind from her chest.

“Mr. Wh—White,” she stammered. Now, she was truly scared.

Finally his pants slipped down to his thighs. His penis sprang up, fully erect and hard. He wrenched her knees apart.

“Wait, stop,” she protested.

He buried the head of his penis in her wet slit and impaled her.

Mary moaned as she felt the length of him ramming up her pussy, sliding in her juices.
His thick cock stretched her painfully.
She tightened her legs around his waist, wanting to squeeze his cock with her pussy.

Mr. White seized her hips and threw his whole body into fucking her. Her breasts shook with every ram of his cock. The delicious, slapping sounds filled the small car. The smell of pussy and blood saturated the poorly ventilated car. He didn’t stop, burying himself balls deep into her pussy that clamored with need of this man.

He grabbed her legs and moved her ankles so that they rested on each shoulder. Now he could penetrate her much deeper than before. Mary gasped as his cock seemed to thrust inside her stomach, grating against her pleasure nerves. He played with her tits, which had burst from the dress unhindered, while his mouth played with her legs.

He bent over, forcing her legs almost parallel with her body as he drilled into her. His cock stuffed her like none before, slapping and smacking her pussy so that she knew it would be raw tomorrow. She felt like she was riding a wave that swelled bigger and bigger. She clenched her pussy and moaned as it contracted over his cock.

Red faced, he slammed into her once, twice, three times before she felt him cumming inside her. His penis twitched as her pussy clenched around him, determined to milk every drop from his cock.
He pumped a few more times, and then slid out of her, collapsing to her side.

“Good girl,” he sighed.

The car shuddered to a halt, but Mary was too faint to hurry. Mr. White pulled the dress over legs and Mary tucked her tits back inside the dress. Heaving with exhaustion, she sat up, clenching her thighs together as she felt the semen dripping out her pussy.

Mr. White had pulled his pants up when the door opened. Mary stumbled out of the car, wobbling uncertainly on her heels. She leaned on the car, realizing that he had dropped her home. Her heart was pounding as she walked to the first steps.

She heard a flurry of movement and Mr. White was at her side, arm around her waist. “Let me help you.”

“I’m fine,” she protested.

“Mary,” he growled in a warning voice.

Together, they hobbled up the stairs and Mary slipped her key into the door. Mr. White pushed it open and lifted her from her feet. He carried her effortlessly as she draped around his arms, helpless.

“This is where you live?” he said, apparently unimpressed.

He brought her to the bedroom and laid her down gently. Mary was fading into unconsciousness. He lifted her dress and ran two fingers up her thigh, dipping them into her swollen pussy. He rotated his fingers inside her, elucidating gasps from Mary. Then his fingers slipped out, covered in his cum.

“Open,” he said to her.

Mary parted her lips and he forced his fingers down, until she almost gagged. She sucked on his fingers, tasting his cum and swallowing it. Then he brought his wrist to his mouth and bit it. He gave his wrist to her mouth. His blood, cool and thick, flooded her mouth. She turned away at first, disgusted.

“Drink,” he ordered.

She could not disobey her boss. She sucked on his wrist as he smoothed hair from her face. Her heart hammered as the first drop of blood touched her lips. She pressed his wrist to her mouth, wanting to consume him. Strength was returning to her limbs.

“That’s enough,” he said, wrenching his wrist from her mouth.

He dabbed two fingers on his bleeding wrist and against slipped them under her dress. He coated the inside of her pussy with his blood, and Mary felt healed—though less deliciously sore.