The Girl Who Can't Say No: Bound To The Billionaire (Part One) (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novelette) (7 page)

He leads me through a set of double doors,
and to an ornate staircase - dark brown, mahogany wood, silver
chandeliers, and bright red painted walls, making this look like
something out of pre-revolutionary France - before leading me
upstairs, one step at a time. I don't dare ask where we're going;
it wouldn't be fitting with my role, I understand that. I just keep
my head bowed down low, and try to mentally prepare myself for what
Daniel asks.

When we reach the top, and pass through
another set of doors, I'm surprised by what I see; no bed, no
couch, and no kinky, sordid sex dungeon. I guess I shouldn't be so
prudishly expectant. All I find is a small room, with bare red
walls, and a laptop sat lonely upon a desk.

"I told you it was my office," he says with
glee, letting go of my hand. It's lonely in here, not what I'd
expect; there are no expensive looking paintings, no posters of
movies past bearing his proud name as producer, not even a mirror.
Strange for a guy so well-groomed.

"It's a bit -" I hesitate, wondering whether
or not to question my new employer directly. As he looks upon me
with waiting eyes, I continue; "- empty?"

"What, did you expect a hot tub?"

I giggle to myself a little, more out of
nervous expectation than anything else.

"It's Spartan. No distractions, no
indulgences, no fucking about, and no excuse not to work."

"No personality," I pipe up, forgetting
myself for a moment. I instantly regret it, and putting a hand to
my mouth, immediately go to apologize. I needn't bother.

"Hah!" he erupts in laughter, finally raising
his voice out of that calm, collected monotone, and assuming a much
more exasperated manner. "Yes! You're the first person who's dared
to tell me that, Miss Everett!"

I blush, tilting my face to one side, hiding
it from his beaming, smiling intensity.
The first person who's
dared to tell him
? Maybe I should be flattered; maybe I should
be happy to have finally snapped him out of his controlled,
superficial coolness. In actual fact, those words drive me to a
sense of overriding guilt; like there's something I need to get off
my chest, immediately.

"Daniel," I say, keeping my eye line
carefully away from his, "I guess I should tell you, I mean, uhm
-"

I've lost my train of thought again. He gives
me the time to finish, waiting in silence, undoubtedly studying my
every movement with those eyes again.

"I don't know where this is all going. I
don't expect to know, I guess that isn't in the job description.
But - there's one thing I should say. I'm a virgin."

I'm a virgin
; God those words are so
pathetic. I hang my head low, feeling the sweat-matted, crimson
heat radiate from my forehead and cheeks. He doesn't speak, even as
the moments turn to seconds, and the seconds turn to minutes. I
finally look up to him, and he's standing with his arms crossed,
and an eyebrow raised. Oh fuck,
what have I done
? Did I
fucking ruin things
already
!?

"I'm sorry, I just -" I don't finish my
sentence. I don't have the time. He charges across the room,
angrily making up the short distance between us, takes me within
his strong, thick arms, enveloping me tightly, and plants an
impassioned, driven kiss upon my flapping lips. I'm shocked - I
open my eyes wide only to see his closed for the first time - and
nervously find a place on his back to put my hands, as his lips
smack against mine repeatedly, taking me by force, and removing any
opportunity I have to reject him. I close my eyes at last, relaxing
my shoulders, and my back, as his tongue darts energetically into
my mouth, teasing and tantalizing me. I'm so caught up in his
embrace I don't give my mind the chance to jump its inevitable
nervous somersaults.

He holds his arms around me tightly,
clutching me like some precious, invaluable artifact. I like the
feeling; I'm warm, and for the first time this evening feel somehow
secure. I even manage to kiss him back; pressing my lips against
his, and teasing the surface of his lips with my tongue. Then, he
takes a step back, releasing his grip on me, and leaving my
standing alone in the middle of the room.

"You've kissed before. It isn't so bad, is
it?"

I shake my head, fighting back the blushes of
embarrassment.

"Miss Everett, I want someone who will be
willing to be there for me always. To deal with my best moments,
and my worst moments. And most of all, like I said, I want someone
who won't say
no
to me."

I nod again, and again, fretfully processing
everything he tells me. We're building to a climax, and I think I
can tell what it is.

"There are no legal documents yet signed
between us. This will be your last opportunity to say
no
to
me."

He's forceful - the smile long gone from his
face, replaced by nothing other than a burning, impassioned
assertiveness - and I don't think I have it within me to reject
him, even if I wanted to.
No, my virginity is his
. I know I
tacitly consented to that as soon as I followed his lustful
commands downstairs.

"I won't say no." I state, confidently
banishing the specters of timidity and anxiousness from my mind, at
least for now. "I won't say no to you, now or ever."

"Good."

I throw my arms back to my sides, and close
my eyes, as he charges back across the room, seizing me back within
that warm, immaculate grip. He picks my waiting, donated body up
from where I stand, hoisting me into the humid air, before dropping
me upon the floor, laying his own body upon me. I struggle for
breath beneath his languid frame, as he plants more kisses upon me
- upon my neck, my shoulders, and my cheeks - and I can almost feel
my eyes rising up into their sockets as he does so.
Fucking
hell,
I've never felt this way before! For the first time, my
heart isn't pounding against the insides of my chest from nerves;
this time it's just sheer exhilarated excitement!

I feel his hands wandering up my body,
exploring my knees, my thighs, before darting over the surface of
my dress, and teasing my eager, soaking pussy over a layer of
flimsy fabric. I cry out, yelping as the feeling drives me up the
wall, and he responds with a swift palm over my mouth, silencing me
from the accusing ears downstairs. I've learnt my lesson.

"You can tell me if it hurts" he whispers in
my ear while pulling the dampened material of my dress up to my
belly button, exposing every inch of my waiting pussy to his touch.
I bite down slightly upon his finger over my mouth, as I feel his
finger dart over my clit. God he knows how to fucking tease me; I
writhe my body against his, anxious awaiting the arrival of a
digit, a finger, a thumbprint,
anything
upon my devoted
clit. When it finally comes, I hum gratifyingly through his
fingers.

"Let's go with one finger" he whispers,
circling the digit of one finger upon my bud, before tracing it
down the length of my vulva, and pushing it into my sopping hole,
meeting utterly no resistance from within. I fidget around on the
spot, delighting in the sensation of his joints grinding against my
inner walls, as he tries his best to steady me from the top. My
hands go to my breasts, rubbing and kneading them selfishly over my
dress. Daniel knows just what I need next:

"And how about two?"

With that, he pushes yet another finger into
me, spreading my slit even more so, and giving me something to
really hold onto. I clench myself around him, jealously gobbling
his fingers up, involuntarily feeling my pussy and asshole tighten
in rhythm, as he plays me like some divine instrument. I bite the
fleshy joint of his fingers at my mouth, suppressing another moan,
and he obviously likes what he sees.

"Three."

The word comes as shock and a relief to me.
Three fingers
? I've only ever put one in there before! He
drives the ring finger of his right hand into me, pushing past my
soaking exterior, meeting the other two within. He has me now; I'm
penetrated, and utterly receptive to his every wish. It hurts as I
clench around him a little more, but any pain is soon overwhelmed
by the throbbing, swelling pleasure that floods from inside.

"Mm, that's - really - nice," I whisper
between a rare gap between his fingers, apparently unable to think
of anything more descriptive to say. Then, as soon as the niggling,
abstract moments of pain subside, he stops, and pulls his fingers
from me slowly.

"What's the mat -"

He presses a finger to my lips, implicitly
shushing me, before putting the strong, potent palm of his hand to
the side of my breast, caressing it briefly, and flipping me over
onto my stomach. I lie with my chin resting upon the hard, carpeted
ground, my dress riding up to my waist, and my bare, rounded ass
seated high into the air, presenting him with an open, defenseless
target. I gasp loudly, as he lies back on top of me, and feel
something hard jabbing me in the back of my thigh.

"You're - going to - fuck me?" I ask,
managing to stammer my way through a complete sentence. He doesn't
reply; the unbuckling of his belt, followed by their descent down
his legs to the floor beside us is a response enough. His boxers
soon follow, and as I lie beneath him - my heart pounding into the
floor and my lungs gasping for breath - I feel the tip of his
unseen cock begin to prod around my ass and pussy lips from behind.
God, the tension is
killing
me.

"Do it," I beg of him, unable to stand the
teasing any longer. I'm so wet I swear I can feel the occasional
bead of juice flowing from me; my stomach is alive with butterflies
and my fingers and toes tingle in expectation, "
Please
."

He has mercy, driving the length of his
hardened rod into me, prizing my pussy lips apart from behind, and
grinding his way past my dampened defenses. I bang my fist upon the
floor, yelping with pleasured pain into the carpet. It hurts - a
slight throbbing, seething pain - but not enough to make me hate
this. The pleasure he brings me conquers all, and when he's fully
enveloped inside me, and I can't extend my ass any further into his
hips, he reaches around with the soaked fingers of one hand to play
back upon my delirious clit.

I gasp yet again as he withdraws, and slams
himself back into me, violently deflowering me. My nails dig into
the carpet, my mouth open wide to taste the dirtied, dusty floor,
and my eyes screwed closed, putting me back inside my own little
world. He's found a steady pace now, slamming his hips into my ass
with more force than I'd expected, paying no heed to the delicate
sensibilities of the virgin, while his fingers rub my clitoris from
side to side, upwards and downwards, driving beads of juice out of
my pussy and down his dick.

"God," I murmur, trying to keep my voice
down, and losing my breath to the joy. "Daniel, I never - thought -
it'd be like this."

He chuckles warmly, before moving his arm
energetically across himself - wiping away the sweat I'd imagine -
never granting me a moment's rest. I extend my ass backwards to
meet his strokes, one by one, and soon feel the inevitability of my
orgasm building in writhing, twitching torrents.

"Oh God, Daniel,
I'm gonna
-"

I don't even get to finish my sentence. My
throat is possessed by a shrill cry, as my right leg sets off in
shuddering spasms, apparently trying to escape the intense feeling
he brings upon me. I clutch my breasts selfishly, squeezing their
erogenous flesh, giving myself something to hold onto while he
batters my pussy from behind. I clench, tighten, and constrict
around him, but he doesn't care, pounding himself into me like a
man possessed. A tidal wave of satisfaction breaks over my wracked
body, followed by another, and I have to jerk myself away from the
activities of his finger; my clit a hypersensitive mess.

When it's over, I lie face down, depleted; my
pussy a sore, sopping hole, and my nerves quite rightly cooled.
Daniel slows to a stop, before withdrawing, his role in my
defloration apparently over.

"How was your first time, Miss Everett?"

I bat a handful of sweaty, unkempt black hair
away from the front of my face, opening my eyes for the first time
to find everything ever-so-slightly blurred. His face takes a
moment to appear to me, covered in a sweaty sheen, but otherwise as
impressibly dapper and cool as always. I'm wrecked.

"Was I your first?" I ask him, seized by the
demonic curiosity of my post-orgasmic haze. "Your first virgin, I
mean."

"I don't know," he replies, going through his
past memories, arching his eyebrows down towards his eyes, thinking
as hard as I've ever seen him. "You're certainly the most
honest."

The most honest?
Is that a good thing
or a bad thing? I'm too orgasm-addled to think about it right now,
but I at least enjoy the compliment. I lie for a moment, catching
my breath, as he does the same. Then, something strikes me; a sense
of responsibility or duty I didn't have before.

"This job," I say, speaking to him on a
familiar and cozy level I thought I'd never find, "the role of
the girl who can't say no
. When do I start?"

He breaks out into smile. I do so love to see
those teeth of his, and that strangely duplicitous smug smirk. He
springs to his feet, and for the first time I see his member;
glisteningly wet, semi-flaccid, and remarkable simply for the fact
I just had it inside me. Businessman-like as always, he apparently
had the forethought to keep his pink shirt on throughout.

"The day after tomorrow" he begins, lowering
his voice to an impersonal, cold tone; the one I imagine he'd use
for business. "I'm going to give you a list. A shopping list, if
you will. And your preparation for this
role
, as you put it,
will be to find me every item upon that list."