At His Command: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (2 page)

“I do.”

“Think of
your word, and then we can begin.”

Buzzing
ripped through my body, making my knees buckle. I fell to the carpet, bracing
myself against the ottoman as my core squeezed around the pulsing toys.

“Once
you’ve cum twice for me, I’ll let you out, and we’ll hear that safe word.”

“What?!” I
gasped. He wanted me to cum
twice?
Here
and now? While he watched?

My cheeks
burned, but the vibrations were making it hard to feel anything else, including
shame. My whole world narrowed to the knowledge that he was watching me,
controlling me. The pattern of vibration changed, pulsing twice, then once,
slow, then fast, and I knew he was playing my body like an instrument from
afar, willing me to cum for him.

He didn’t
have to wait long.

The
pulsing in my ass against the egg in the front made me come apart, wailing on
my back, legs squeezed together as my body convulsed. I shuddered, my thighs
trembling, my clit overly sensitive, but the vibrations kept on.

And just
when I thought I couldn’t take it any longer, Mr. Drake amped up the power.

My screams
echoed off the walls, filling my ears.

***

I lay limp
in Mr. Drake’s strong arms as he carried me into the dungeon, sweaty and wrung
out from my orgasms.

The door
closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. “What’s your safe word?”

“Ramen,” I
said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he’d ripped my shirt
off after I spilled ramen noodles down my front.

His low laugh
made his chest rumble against my cheek. “Ramen, it is.”

He stopped
in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the
leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing. Mr. Drake
lifted me into it as if I weighed no more than a child, and went to work
securing my arms over my head, then moving down to spread my legs wide,
strapping my ankles in with the supple leather.

I was
opened up before him, nothing hidden from his view. I saw the hunger burning in
his eyes as his gaze raked over my body. He undid his silver tie and slid it to
the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt with surgical precision as I watched, just
as hungry as he was. I couldn’t wait to see that muscled chest of his—his fit
body beaded with sweat as he bent over me…

I licked
my lips as his shirt fell beside his tie, and waited for him to undo his belt buckle.
Instead, he reached for my bra, and roughly pulled my breasts out of the lace,
displaying them on top of the cups. He leaned over and rolled each nipple
between his fingers, pinching them hard until I gasped.

“Do you
like that, little slave?”

I exhaled
hard at his words, my pussy heating below. “Y-yes, Sir.”

He pinched
them one last time, then leaned back, assessing his work. My nipples were
erect, the tips red and puffy from his attentions.

“Good
girl.”

He
disappeared to one side, and I craned my head to try to follow him, squinting
into the dim light of the dungeon. Then, his hand closed around my throat from
behind, making me tense with fear.

“I’m going
to show you a whole new world, little girl,” he rasped, making me tremble.

Something
black and leather caressed my shoulder, then moved down, sliding over my chest.
Glancing down I saw it was the end of one of the riding crops, and I tensed, my
heart hammering in my chest. Mr. Drake moved it slowly downward, tracing the curves
of each of my breasts, holding my neck so I could watch each movement.

“A world
where you belong to
me
.”

He flicked
the crop, slapping the leather down sharply onto one nipple. I screamed at the
sharp sting, and his hand tightened on my throat.

“I use you
as I please. I give you pain when it pleases me, and pleasure only when you
deserve it. Do you think you deserve it now, slave?”

His wrist
flicked again, snapping the head of the crop against the soft tissue of my
breast. I whimpered, tears burning my eyes.

“I… I
don’t know, Sir.”

“Unacceptable
answer.”

He moved
to my side, looming over me, and ran the crop lower, toying with me, tracing
the curve of my hip before tracing the inside of my thigh. I felt so helpless,
unable to move, waiting for the next blow to fall, wondering what it would feel
like, and fearing it all the same.

“When I
ask you a question, I want either a ‘yes, Sir’ or a ‘no, Sir.’ ‘I don’t know’
is not an option, Isabeau.”

The crop
whipped down, sending blazing pain spidering over my inner thigh. I pulled
against the cuffs, writhing beneath him, unable to cover myself. Despite the
pain, my body was heating more and more with each blow, my sex dripping against
the edge of the swing.

“Understood?”

“Yes,
Sir!”

Tears
trailed down my cheeks, but I’d never felt so alive. My body was on fire,
sensations sharper than they’d ever been before, lighting up my nerves. The
leather against my back felt decadant, the cuffs pleasantly snug, the red marks
on my breast and leg sensual and obscene.

“Do you
deserve pleasure, slave?”

“No, Sir…”

The crop
traced the spread lips of my pussy, making me moan. My feet strained against
the cuffs, but whether I wanted to close my legs or spread them wider, I wasn’t
sure.

“And why
is that, pray tell?”

“I… I
haven’t pleased you yet.”

I thought
about how badly I wanted to take him in my mouth, to run my lips and tongue
over him. To feel him shudder inside of me as I gave him release. As I made him
happy.

He
chuckled darkly. The crop tapped lightly on my clit, making me purse my lips
and bite back a yell. Jolts of awareness surged through me, pain and pleasure
mixing until they were indistinguishable. All I felt was the intensity, and my
body reacted, making me shiver.

“But you
have pleased me, slave. You came for me as directed, and you followed my
instructions. Your training is going very well so far.”

The crop
tapped my lower lips in a staccato rhythm, making me wail as the burning washed
over me once again.

“In fact,
I think you’ve earned a reward--my cock ramming deep inside your sweet little
pussy. Would you like that, slave?”

I wanted
it so badly, I could barely speak. “
Please
,”
I whispered. “Sir.”

Mr. Drake
grinned, the hunger in his eyes making him look wolfish, like a predator eyeing
his prey. He leaned to the side, then came back with a thin chain in his hands,
with a small silver clamp on each end.

He pinched
my nipples again, making me moan, before attaching a clamp to each one. I cried
out as they snapped into place, and bit my lip at the way they felt—each one creating
a sensual ache that made me need him even more desperately.

“You look
so beautiful like this,” he breathed, moving between my legs. “Bound for me.
Chained…”

I heard
his zipper lower, and wished I could reach down, to stroke him to hardness and
guide him inside me. Instead I stared into his piercing green eyes as he
positioned himself, and gasped in pleasure as I felt his tip pushing into me,
stretching me wide for him.

He slammed
into me, then, sheathing himself inside me in one sure stroke. I cried out as
he reached out and gripped the chain attached to my sensitive nipples, yanking
sharply as he began moving in and out. I screamed at the pain, then panted, my
eyes closing at the intensity of sensation coursing through me.

This was
like nothing I’d ever felt before, and with each pump of Mr. Drake’s, my master’s,
rod inside of me, I felt fireworks going off behind my eyes, making me soar in
sparks of desire, the flames ensconsing me, burning the old me as the new one
rose from the ashes, terrifying and beautiful.

A new
woman. A new beginning. A new Isabeau.

“Yes,
slave. Take it all. All that I have to give you,” he growled, pulling the swing
back onto him, using me like a toy. His toy.

He jerked
the chain again, and I wailed like an animal, my inhibitions flowing out of me
like water as he took control. I let go, giving myself
 
over as he fucked me harder, savoring each
moment, each different texture of lovemaking, each sting and pulse, each jolt
and caress.

 
I squeezed around my master, already on the
edge again, unbelieving even as I accepted it was possible with this man.
Everything was possible.

“Cum for
me, Isabeau,” he commanded, and released the nipple clamps, creating a wave of aching
pain as the blood rushed back.

I did as I
was told, shaking with the force of it as my pleasure crashed over me, sweeping
me away, rocking my body as it rocked my mind, tearing away all of my old
notions of what sex could be, should be.

I heard
him groan, and felt him cumming inside of me, the thought bringing me to
another high as I knew I’d finally pleased him. My boss. My master.

I must
have blacked out for a moment, but when my eyes fluttered open again, he was
there, rubbing my wrists in his strong hands as he undid the cuffs, then moved
to my ankles, releasing me. He lifted me gently out of the sling, and carried
me to a corner of the room covered in soft pillows. He knelt down, then pulled
me into his lap. He kissed my hair and neck, then trailed soft kisses across my
forehead and cheeks.

“How do
you feel?” he said, his voice full of concern.

I smiled
sleepily and leaned against him, overcome by the feelings bubbling up inside of
me.

“Good.
Different… but good.”

“That’s my
girl.”

He tilted
my head up and kissed my lips softly, making me melt at the tenderness of it,
after what we’d just done.

“I was
worried you might change your mind about being with me. Like this.”

I looked
into his eyes. The uncertainty there startled me.

“Of course
not.”

He kissed
my hair again, then set me down.

“Wait
here, little temp. I have something for you.”

I leaned
back against the pillows, feeling tired and sore and delicious all over, the
soft ache between my legs and in the peaks of my breasts sweet reminders of his
touch.

He
returned and knelt before me, handing me a black, leather box. I raised an
eyebrow.

“Open it.
They’re for you, if you want them.”

I lifted
the lid, and gasped at what lay within. There was a thin, black leather collar
and beside it a gorgeous platinum choker, dotted with winking diamonds, a tiny
charm hanging from the front in the shape of a lock. It must have been worth a
fortune.

I had no
words.

“Every
good slave needs a collar, Isabeau. If you’re to be mine, you’ll need one when
we play… and one to wear to the office.” He looked deeply into my eyes. “Will
you accept these? Will you be mine?”

My mind
spun, the magnitude of the diamonds making me feel uncomfortable, but the
gesture making me tingle from head to toe. I’d never owned anything so precious
by far, but could I accept such a lavish gift? And if I did, what would it
mean?

Something
told me this was far more than just going steady.

I’d be
collared. His slave. His woman.
His.

But for
how long?

The office
gossip came back to me, the words of the ladies around the water cooler echoing
in my mind.
None of his assistants lasts
long
.
He’s impossible to please
.

If I
accepted his offer, how long would it be before he was sick of me? Would he
just fire me out of hand like the assistant before me? Or was this something
special? Different?

I looked
down at the collars and back at Mr. Drake, the man who was slowly stealing my
heart.

Could I do
this? Could I let him be my master? Could I wear his collar?

He stared
back at me, expecting an answer.

But at
that moment, I didn’t have one.

***

To Be
Continued…

Don’t miss the next two parst of this
sizzling series, available now!

At
His Insistence: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part
4

When Isabeau
reveals to Mr. Drake that she's not ready to be his slave, he refuses to share
his bed with her, giving her time to think about what she really wants. Will
she let fear get in the way of the best thing that's ever happened to her?

When she decides to
take a leap of faith, he's one step ahead of her, sending a car to bring her to
him as his date to an extravagant party, with one thing in mind: punishing her
for her lack of trust in a way that will make her squirm.