Caught: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (His Domination Book 2) (9 page)

Twenty minutes was too long. The tingles of arousal were filling her with impatience.
I’ll show him to make me wait again.
First drawing out her pleasure that morning, and now this? Forget that! Monica was full of booze and ready to party.

While Henry resumed his conversation with another man across the table, Monica used the cover of darkness to slip her hand between his legs and brush against his crotch.

Henry froze up, but did not interrupt his conversation. Monica smiled into the back of her other hand. Too easy.

His zipper came down with little resistance. Monica rubbed her fingers against the silk of his boxers and bit her bottom lip at the scandal of what she was doing.

Only while intoxicated would she think taking her Dom’s cock into her hand beneath a table felt indecent. Like she was a teenager. A freshman in college getting freaky with her frat boyfriend at a social meant for the brainy elite.
Maybe that really happened.
Whether it did or not, it wasn’t as good as now when she wrapped her hand around Henry’s cock and drew it out of his pants.

It was as if she did nothing, if one went by the expression on his face. He was still laughing at one of James’s jokes and reassuring Gwen that she was a beautiful woman who could model for any designer in the world, if that was her pursuit. The other people were either wrapped up in their own conversations or too far away to ever notice what went on beneath the table.
Always good to have a nice, public thrill.
Alcohol made that more fun for Monica.

She worked her hand up and down his shaft, her fingers rounding his head until he stiffened in her touch. The man had driven himself into her over and over only a few hours ago, and now he was getting hard again from this? Monica had to contain a grin of self-indulgence. Henry was thick in her grip, and the thought of him taking her like he did that morning made those tingles in her body flow like a strong river, the only dam in its way the public around them. Nevertheless, Monica wasted no time tightening her grip and moving her hand as quickly as she dared without calling attention to her actions.

Her hand was wet. When she glanced down she saw the gleam of precum on the tip of Henry’s cock. And yet he sat there so coolly, talking about dividends and how they related to a tasteless joke about strippers. The only time he showed any emotion was when James made yet another quip and incited his tablemate to laugh.

Oh, he was good. If Monica was the queen of poker faces, then Henry Warren was the god. Perhaps there were other things he could teach her outside of the bedroom.

Not today, however.

Monica rubbed her palm against the head of his cock.
Let’s take this as far as I can.
She would do it. She would make Henry come right there in front of everyone. What was going through his head right now? The sheer amount of power he held in front of these people? Who else could possibly have this kind of service from their sub? All the other subs at the table had both hands above the surface, holding drinks, stroking shoulders, and twiddling thumbs as they waited for something to happen.
Something’s happening beneath this table.
If Monica were feeling
really
frisky she would lean in and blow into Henry’s ear. That would make him come.

To her disappointment, Henry put his hand around her wrist and yanked her hand away as his cock stiffened to its hardest point yet.
Darn.
Monica retracted while Henry covertly buttoned up. She still had her wet hand, and she rubbed it against her bare thigh.

In the middle of a conversation, Henry cleared his throat and sat up straight in his seat. “Excuse me.” He buttoned up his jacket, probably in order to cover up his erection when he went to stand. “Waitress seems to have forgotten our next round of drinks. Monica?” He looked at her.

She waited a few seconds before standing as well, her arm going around his as he escorted her away from the table – and nowhere near the main bar.

Henry knocked on a VIP room door, and when there was no response, he opened it and pulled Monica in after him.

“Cute,” he said, pushing her against the nearest wall and barricading her with both arms. Monica shrank in front of him, keeping a grin to herself. “And what do you think you were doing back there, hm?”

His breath was delightfully hot against her cheek, and he was so close, so intruding that Monica felt herself become weak between the legs. “Call it a mild attempt at reading your mind. Are you telling me that you didn’t want that… sir?”

“In front of all those people?”

“With all due respect, Mr. Warren, we’re in a sex club.”

“And I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Didn’t you like it?”

She gripped his jacket, attempting to pull him down to her level for a kiss. Instead, Henry grabbed both of her arms and held them above her head, pinning her wrists to the wall as his breath increased in intensity against her skin. “I should punish you for being so out of line.”

Yes, you should.
Monica pushed against the wall, her breasts straining against her dress again. “Please.”

“Please,
what?
”

Monica ran her tongue against both lips. “Punish me, sir.”

“I should make you get down on your knees and suck my cock. Finish the job you started out there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“No, don’t call me sir.” Henry’s fingers tightened around her wrists. “Call me
Master.
”

“Yes, Master.”

Such a satisfying word to say. Monica hadn’t called a man her Master with such conviction since… Now Henry glared at her, his eyes hungry with desire. Desire to punish her, and desire to have her. Now this was the kind of thing Monica was hoping to have tonight.

“Let me suck your cock, Master.”

“As charming as it is to hear you say that, I don’t think so.”

Monica bowed her head. What had she done to displease him? If she had learned anything from her years as a sub, it was that being denied things like that meant her Dom was angry with her.
Did I really go out of line when I did that to him?
Wouldn’t he have brushed her off if he didn’t want it? He knew the safe word. How hard was it to work the word
blossom
into conversation? She even wore a flower-patterned dress.
I’m so stupid.

Henry must have caught the disappointed look on her face, for he said, “I want to hear you beg for it. Tell me how much you want me to fuck you right here.”

Relief swept through Monica, and finally she felt that dam let up in her body, releasing a new wave of arousal. Now that she could fully express it, she did so, rotating her hips in his direction and lifting her chin toward his face. His eyes went straight to her chest.

“Fuck me, please.”

“Do better.”

Monica sucked in her breath. “Fuck me, Master.”

“And why should I do that? What have you done to deserve that sort of reward?”

What haven’t I done?
“Everything you’ve wanted.”

Henry kissed her, quickly, as if the man couldn’t control himself.
Go ahead. Lose control.
What Monica would give to feel Henry completely go alpha on her! “You haven’t given me
everything
I want yet, Monica.”

“What do you want, Master? I’ll give it to you right now.” She tried to free her hands, but Henry was too strong. Boo hoo.

“I want you,” he began, staring deep into her eyes, “to beg for whatever I give you.”

She could do that.

“Yes, yes, take me right here!” Monica felt like a loose woman on the verge of losing the last of her morals. Henry was on her, kissing whatever he came into contact with, his arms falling to touch her breasts and to lift her hips around his waist. Monica slid down the wall but kept her balance by wrapping her arms completely around him. When he discovered that she wore no underwear that night, she could only smile and say, “My Master didn’t tell me to put
all
my clothes back on earlier.”

“You sly vixen.” Henry held her up with one hand and undid his zipper with the other. “Look at what you do to me. I’m supposed to be a collected man.”

It didn’t take long for his cock to pierce her where it mattered most. By then he had given in to his base desires, growling into Monica’s ear and squeezing her flesh as he drove himself right into her. She cried out, nails digging into his suit. Sure, she had been aroused for a good twenty or so minutes, but her body hadn’t been prepared for this kind of quick and rough sex. Pain seared through her as Henry forced himself deeper, his teeth in her shoulder and his determination winning out over how dry she still was. Not for long. The sheer rawness of his actions sent Monica to a different plane of existence in that dark abode.

This man wanted her so badly that he pulled her into this room to fuck her. Didn’t matter if she was ready. When Monica threw down her gauntlet back at the table, she had signed herself up for whatever punishment he felt like dishing out.

Taking her with a side of pain felt pretty appropriate.

“Henry!” Monica clung to him, her head bumping against the wall as he thrust up into her. “Yes! Fuck me! Please!”

It hurt, but not for long. Given the intensity of the situation she quickly acclimated, her arousal flushing her skin in time to Henry’s thrusts. The next time he completely pulled out and slammed into her again, he met almost no resistance.

Monica never forgot what he asked of her.

“Punish me, please!” Somewhere in the frenzy Henry found the ability to smack the side of her ass as he took her against the wall. Monica’s legs dangled around his waist, one shoe falling off and clattering to the floor. The front of her dress was pulled apart, her breasts hanging out for Henry to indulge in whenever it pleased him – which was every single second he wasn’t kissing her lips or leaving a bruise on her throat. This primal showcase of his affections had Monica riveted to the point she squeezed his torso and sang her pleasure into his ear.

“Shit!” Henry pinned her to the wall again, his cock buried deep within her and his cologne overpowering the last of her senses. This was it. This was what it felt like to be caught by the man who pursued her.

And claimed by him, which happened a mere moment after Monica began to climax, her voice echoing in the VIP room.

His grunts of release were better than any music playing in the main room of The Dark Hour. Monica squeezed her eyes shut so she could concentrate on the warmth filling her, connecting her to the man so enthralled with her that he couldn’t wait until they got home.

“Thank hell,” he muttered, staying still within her and catching his breath. Monica opened her eyes, leaning against him, kissing the underside of his chin as he tipped his head back. “You’re something else.”

Henry released her, and the first thing Monica noticed was that she missed the way he had held her against the wall. Now, watching him zip up and straighten out his clothes, Monica was acutely aware of his seed spilling from her for the second time that day.

“Don’t,” he said, snatching her wrist as she began the walk to the nearest bathroom. “That’s your punishment until we leave.”

Monica stared at the floor, her common sense telling her to clean up. But when her Dom told her she was being punished, well…

Besides, she liked feeling him trickling down her skin, his claim on her spreading from her core to the world beyond. It made her feel like a glorious extension of him – just what she wanted that night.

“You go on ahead and rejoin the party.” Henry cupped his hands on her cheek and gently kissed her lips. “I need to use the restroom. I’ll catch up.”

Monica kissed him again, this time harder, their tongues searching for one another as Henry embraced her again.
I want to smell like him.
Even though Monica had to detach and fix herself up in the nearest mirror before heading out into The Dark Hour, she still wanted to bring as much of her Dom as she could with her.

Life went on as if nothing had happened in the VIP room. People mingled in the club. A show began on the main stage. Waitresses wearing collars carried trays of drinks. And Monica Graham sauntered back to the large table in the back, alone but not without Henry’s marks on her.

A chilling laugh came from the table.

She stopped. Her legs turned to mush.

No.

She’d recognize that laugh anywhere. She had heard it in her dreams. Her nightmares.

Sure enough, as soon as she turned the corner and encountered the table, she saw that a newcomer had taken Henry’s chair in their absence.

The conversation stopped. A blond man in a tan suit pulled a cigar out of his mouth and looked at who everyone else was staring at.

And Monica looked right back into the frigid eyes of Jackson Lyle.

Chapter 6

Crossing Boundaries

Everyone was silent and uncomfortable. Save for the man gazing at Monica over his shoulder.