Taken by the Tycoon (6 page)

She just stared at him, disturbed by the unsavory things he was admitting. Then again she knew what teenage boys could be like, and it wasn’t always pretty.

“It was also a good fit because most of the women were as interested in discretion as I was. They didn’t want to be ‘outed’ as kinksters and they were already married so it allowed me to experiment with my sexuality in a relatively safe, no-strings environment.”

“I never thought of that. I guess I’ve never known anyone like that.”

He chuckled. “Not that you know of.”

“Why? Do you know people like that here in Texas?”

“No. That’s all in my past, but I know they exist everywhere.”

“So why don’t you do that anymore?” Violet took a long sip of her drink.

“Once I grew up, I realized I wanted my own woman. I’m not interested in sharing.” He gazed at her hungrily.

Violet made a disgusted face. “I’m sorry, Stuart, but that all sounds terribly unseemly.”

He nodded. “I agree, but you wanted to know why I liked older women, and even though that was a phase I outgrew, I still like a woman who’s a grown-up, who knows her mind and can appreciate a younger man and the things he can do to her.” He winked at her.

She smiled.

He reached for her hand. “You seem uncomfortable here. Want to go back to my place instead?”

She gave him a wicked grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They left her vehicle in the parking lot and his driver opened the door for them as they climbed into his town car. She’d expected him to travel in a limousine, so it was refreshing to see he was more down to earth.

To get to his house, they rode down an exceptionally long driveway, where, hidden behind ancient oak trees, stood a palatial, Plantation-style mansion. The enormous round columns, elaborate wrought-iron balconies, and hanging ferns made Violet feel like an older, more modern-day version of Scarlett O’Hara. “This is where you live?”

“Yup,” he said, getting out of the car first, then offering her his hand in assistance.

She swooned at his gentlemanly manners. “Thank you,” she said taking his hand.

They walked through the cavernous foyer, appointed with marble floors and bronze statues, to what appeared to be the library. Bookshelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling. A cozy fireplace, flanked by leather sofas and upholstered club chairs anchored the end of the room that comprised the seating area. The other end boasted a lavish wet bar and an old-fashioned billiard table with a deep burgundy surface rather than the usual green and gold fringe decorating each pocket.

“What a beautiful room,” Violet said.

Stuart closed the double doors behind him. “Thank you. It’s the only room where I feel comfortable here.”

She furrowed her brows together. “I don’t get it. If you don’t feel comfortable… why live here?”

He waved a hand. “Family home,” he said, as if that were enough of an explanation. “Drink?”

She nodded. “Thank you. Is this an antique?” She ran a hand across the velvety surface of the billiard table.

“Yes, most everything is. My mother does the decorating.” He brought her a drink. She didn’t ask what it was, just took a sip. Bourbon.

The dark liquid trickled down her throat sending warm waves of relaxation to her extremities. She giggled. “Do you want to play?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He crushed her to his chest and kissed her with a ferocity that fed the fire building inside her. She welcomed his advance, her tongue ardently meeting his. Wrapping her arms around his neck she wove her fingers into his hair.

He gave her lips a nip then ordered her, “Undress.”

Her eyes rounded. “Here?” The curtains were drawn, but still…

“I can assure you we have complete privacy.”

She hesitated.

“No one will come in.” He traced his index finger down her jaw-line. “Violet, if we are going to do this, you will have to trust me.”

Whether it was warranted or not, she
did
trust him. She shed her clothes and crossed her arms over herself, shy in her nudity.

“Arms by your sides.”

“Really?”

“The correct response is ‘Yes, sir.’”

She put her arms down and looked at the ceiling.

“Look at me. I always want your eyes on mine.” That wouldn’t be a problem. Losing herself in those remarkable blue eyes would be easy.

He retrieved something from a drawer in one of the many cabinets under the bar.

“Rope?” she asked.

“I told you next time I’d bring rope.” He grinned.

Violet’s heart skipped a beat.
Trust. She needed to trust him
.

“What are you going to do with that?” she asked fidgeting.

“You’ll see. Let’s go over your safe words. What are they again?”

She swallowed hard. “Yellow for ‘this is getting uncomfortable,’ and red is for stop.”

“Very good.” His eyes met hers. “Now, I’m going to tie you up. Get on the pool table.”

“On the pool table?”

“Did I stutter?”

She wasn’t sure she liked his tone, but she hopped up on the table.

“Lie on your back and raise your arms over your head.”

Violet did as he asked, making a “Y” with her body, arms spread above her, legs together modestly.

Stuart gently slipped ropes around each of her wrists. The rope smelled fresh, of the outdoors, and it was softer than it looked. Though her pulse quickened at the idea of being restrained, she relaxed into the process.

He bound each of her wrists to the legs of the billiard table. Testing out her bonds, she tugged at the ropes. Not much give, but not uncomfortably tight either—another indicator of his experience with this sort of thing.

“Spread your legs.”

His words acted as a jolt of electricity, shocking her to life and making her twitchy with need. She opened her legs.

“Wider.”

She did her best to comply.

“Good girl. Show me that cunt, all wet and ready for me.” He stroked her damp pussy, eased his fingers in and out of her opening. She squirmed under his touch; her breath coming in short bursts.

“Ah ah ah,” he chided. “Be still. I can see I’m going to have to tie those legs down too.”

Violet’s arousal level went up another notch when she realized he would tie her legs spread apart. Her heart thudded in her chest and she worried her juices would soak the luxurious burgundy cloth underneath her.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on the sensations of him draping, then wrapping rope around her ankles. He then secured them, leaving her sex on brazen display. An internal voice told her she should be ashamed, but her desire quashed the annoying clamor piping up from her subconscious.

“My God, Violet—you are a beautiful woman.”

“Thank you, sir,” she answered, quivering.

He sauntered over to the wall, picked up a pool cue. Sensuously, he stroked the wood. She imagined him touching her skin that way, caressing her thighs, traveling up her legs…

Rap!
A high-pitched thud landed on the edge of the table between her feet. That got her attention. He moved to her side and gently traced her leg with the pool cue, from the arch of her foot to the middle of her inner thigh. Then he repeated the movement on her other leg.

Every part of her was on edge, wondering what he would do next.

He smacked her on the calf with the pool cue. The blow surprised her and a high pitch screech erupted from her lips. “Eeeeeek!”

She saw he was about to do it again.

Thwap!
A larger strike, followed by light little taps doled out in rapid succession along her shin and up her thigh.

The little ones didn’t hurt as badly and after a few moments her skin became accustomed to the staccato whips of his baton.

“You like those better, the quick ones?” he asked.

She nodded then remembered to answer him verbally. “Yes, sir.” Sweat beaded on her forehead as tiny daggers of pain stabbed at her.

The swats moved upwards, and she wished she could cover her breasts. Wanting to protect her sensitive globes, she wriggled in her restraints.

“You’re scared. Breathe deeply. Let yourself go. Don’t fight it.”

She widened her eyes, but didn’t answer.

“I’m almost done with the hurt-y part.” He winked at her. “You’re doing fine. Being such a good girl for me.”

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. He struck her breasts, and she was surprised to find she liked it. It stung, but the sensation combined pain and pleasure in a delicious assault. Violet closed her eyes and moaned in response.

“Ah, my girl likes this.” His voice filled with pleasure.

“Yes, sir. I do.”

“Wonderful,” he said and stopped. “Keep your eyes closed.”

Violet obeyed.

Something poked at the opening between her legs and she muffled a cry.

“Keep your eyes closed. I don’t want to have to punish you,” he said firmly.

A hard, nonpliable object entered her. The pool cue.

Part of her thought,
This is nuts, perverse
, but she lifted her hips to meet the intruder. He moved it inside her, then pulled it back out slowly and pushed it back in. Her wetness enveloped the stick and he fucked her with it. Harder. It slammed up against her cervix, eliciting a strangled mewl from her.

Suddenly she felt his hot breath on her thigh. Then the lapping of his tongue on her clit made her toes curl. “Yes, yes!” she whispered encouragingly.

Her words must have spurred him on because he continued to fuck her and manipulate her sex with his mouth. He sucked her clit between his lips, nipping at it with his teeth, fucking her faster, harder until the world started to spin. Releasing her tender nub he licked the apex of her opening and made her shiver. Everything fell away except Stuart and the intense desire building up from his control over her body.

His mouth did a creative number nipping on her pussy lips, sucking her clit so that she clenched and unclenched every muscle between her legs. Her orgasm drifted in, then shook her like a leaf holding fast to its limb on a blustery day.

He held her legs until she stilled. Then he climbed onto her so that his head hovered above her and he touched his lips to hers. His tongue darted between her teeth, and she kissed him back, detecting the smell of masculine power that seeped from his pores.

“You’ve been such a good girl. Now I’m going to untie those legs and fuck you senseless.”

Spent, all she could muster was a feeble, “Mmm.”

He swiftly released her legs from their bindings and climbed back on top of her. She wasn’t sure when he’d undressed, as the whole experience had been a blur of pleasure mixed with pain. Hedonism mixed with punishment.

Her brain was in a fog, not unlike being woozy after an injury. Was she punch-drunk? She giggled.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I feel funny.”

“In a good or a bad way?” He sounded concerned.

“Good.” She smiled.

“That’s normal.”

“Okay.” His words reassured her. He was the expert at all this. If he said it was normal, she’d trust him.

His erection pressed into her cunt, interrupting her ponderings. She thought she was played out, but he awakened a renewed passion in her. He rocked her hips, and she clasped her ankles behind his back.

“Trying to capture me, are you my dear?”

She answered him by craning her neck, yearning for a kiss. He leaned down and swirled his tongue against hers, simultaneously pumping his cock inside her. She matched his ferocity with her hips meeting his thrust for thrust.

He banged against her fiercely, and the grinding of his pelvis sent her over the edge again. He worked for a few more minutes, letting her ride out the extended version of her climax before coming with a short growl.

Rolling off her, he hopped off the table and disposed of a condom before untying the rest of her bonds. As he freed each arm, he stopped to take her wrist between his warm hands and kiss it reverently, as if thanking her for her submission.

Later, she snuggled up with him on the sofa near the fireplace. They didn’t light it, as it was eighty-five degrees outside, but it still provided a cozy, intimate atmosphere. Besides, there was enough heat between the pair of them to roast marshmallows.

“So how do you like being a sub?” he asked, playing with her hair.

She hesitated. “It has its appeal. But why have this dominant/submissive thing going on instead of dating or having a girlfriend? Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s hot, but is there more to it?”

He sat pensive for a moment before answering. “For one thing, it’s upfront. Straightforward. I like that. I never get that from dating in the vanilla world. Regular relationships involve lots of game playing. People don’t know where they stand. And of course there are the gold-diggers who come after me… that’s why I like to do the hunting when it comes to relationships.” He bent his head and bit down on her neck.

She squirmed, ticklish.

“With a sub, I tell her what I want and she complies. There are limits of course, but the communication is direct, intimate. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh definitely.”

He hugged her tight. “Do you think you can continue to submit to my will?”

She nodded, her heart skipping a beat. “Yes, sir.”

“Good, then I’m taking you to Vegas next week.”

Violet lounged on the bed in their lavish hotel suite wrapped in a deliciously sumptuous towel. If it wasn’t for the delightfully convenient fact that Margaret was staying with her father this week, Violet wouldn’t have dared go to Las Vegas with Stuart. When he invited her, she’d only debated for a moment before she said yes.

They’d whiled away the day at the pool, and Violet cherished every minute she and Stuart spent together. She loved watching him walk shirtless around the pool with that confident swagger he wore like a second skin. They’d baked in the hot desert sun, refreshing themselves with dips in the pool and frothy alcoholic concoctions, which magically appeared each time they finished the previous one.

Numerous women ogled Stuart, some of them practically drooled into their cocktails, but to Violet’s delight, he only had eyes for her. His devotion was matched only by his impeccable manners. Stuart saw to her every need, once telling her, “My goal for this trip is to make you happy.” She wiggled her toes giddily and basked in the glow of his attention.