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

At first
I’d worried we’d have nothing to talk about, but as dinner wore on, Mr. Drake
seemed to delight in introducing me new foods and wines, watching my face
intently as I tried them all, and smiling like a kid on Christmas morning when
he found something I enjoyed. The bone marrow foam turned out to be delicious
instead of disgusting (as I’d feared), and the riesling paired with the crème
brulee was the best thing I’d had in years.

He asked
about my family, and I told him about my sister and brother back in Oregon, and
how I’d been living with my Grandma Rose, taking care of her until she passed
away this year.

“That
explains why a woman like you was temping. You put your career on hold for her,
didn’t you?”

I frowned
back at him. “What do you mean? ‘A woman like me’?”

Is he insulting me? After all this?

“You’re a
beautiful woman in her mid 20s, Isabeau. College educated, smart, capable. You
should have a career. You should be
excelling
in a career. You’re not a temp.”

I looked
down at my hands, twisting my napkin in my lap.

“Sometimes
life has other plans, I guess. I hope I didn’t
disappoint
.”

My words
sounded bitter, but I meant it that way. Who the hell did Mr. Drake think he
was? There was nothing wrong with being a temp. I made enough money to have my
own, admittedly tiny, place. I paid my bills. I lived my life. Wasn’t that
enough?

A life like mine will never be enough for
some people
.

His hand
covered mine on the tablecloth, and I looked up into those green eyes of his.

“I think
you misunderstand me. I meant that you can be anything you want to be, and the
fact that you sacrificed like that for family is… noble. Your Grandmother was a
very lucky woman to have you looking after her. I don’t think anyone in my
family would ever be that selfless.”

I sat in
stunned silence, feeling the comforting weight of his hand on mine, realizing
I’d misjudged him, even after the kindness he’d shown me tonight.

“Thank you.”

Tears had
sprung up behind my eyes, and it took all my effort to push them back down. The
last thing I needed was for this powerful man to see me cry over dessert. I was
just tired, was all. Tired of sacrifice. Tired of second guessing all of my
choice. Of trying to be my best every hour of every day.

“Let’s get
out of here.”

***

On the
drive home, wine warming me from within combined with the soft murmer of the
radio made my eyes heavy. I’d only had a couple of glasses, but I’d sampled
several others the sommelier brought over, and had a nice buzz going. Not
drunk, but lubricated and comfortable.

Mr. Drake
was quiet, seemingly lost in thought as he drove me home. My apartment was a
bit of a drive away from the restaurant, and soon I found myself nodding off,
try as I might to stay awake.

***

I awoke to
strong arms carrying me through a hallway I didn’t recognize. I murmered
against a soft jacket, and noticed a chandelier out of the corner of my eye.
Where the hell was I, and why was I being carried?

The smell
of Mr. Drake’s aftershave wafted over me, and for a moment, I wanted to pretend
I was asleep again, if it meant I could snuggle against him without him
stopping me. But I’d raised my head off his muscled shoulder and the moment had
passed.

“Where am
I?”

“You were
sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t want to wake you. I brought you to my home
instead. I thought you could use the rest.”

He stopped
and set me down at the entrance to a lavish bedroom. Rich wallpaper gave the
room a warm feeling, surrounding the four poster bed covered in lush linens
that dominated the room.

“You
brought me home with you?”

He gave me
a lopsided grin that made my heart do a little flip. “Are you worried I won’t
be a gentleman?”

I gave him
a shy smile. “You have been all night. Why should I doubt you now?”

He showed
me the bathroom attached to the guest room, and I stared at the silky white
bathrobe hanging in the corner, as well as the toiletries laid out.

“I called
ahead while you were sleeping and let the staff know you were coming,” he
offered, as if he had no idea how strange it sounded to me. “Please. Make
yourself comfortable.”

I sat on
the bed, smoothing my hands over the sheets. They must have been some
ridiculous threadcount by the luxurious feel of the cotton. Why should I be
surprised that even his guest room had the best of the best in it?
He has a
staff
for God’s sake!

“Thank
you, Mr. Drake.” I smiled up at him, wondering what this night meant, if
anything.

“Please,”
he said, “Call me Chase when we’re not at work.”

I smiled
up at him and tried the name on for size. “Chase…”

“Goodnight,
Isabeau.”

He closed
the door behind him, leaving me with more questions than answers.

***

I awoke in
the middle of the night to the sound of footsteps outside my room, then a door
creaking open. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and climbed out of bed. I
pulled on the short silk robe, loving the way it felt against my naked body,
and tip toed to the door. If Mr. Drake was up, what was he doing? I glanced at
the clock. It was nearly 3 a.m.

I eased
the door open and glanced down the hallway. There was a black door at the end
of the hall standing ajar, and I heard the sound of ice cubes clinking against
glass. I knew I shouldn’t snoop, but curiosity burned inside of me. Would one
little peek hurt? After all, my host had said to make myself comfortable…

I moved
quietly down the hall, padding barefoot on the thick carpet until I was just
outside the door. I peered in, my eyes still adjusting. The only light came
from a fireplace on the far wall, but I could see Mr. Drake’s profile as he sat
in a highbacked chair, and slowly raised a glass to his lips. Something lay
across his lap, but I couldn’t quite make it out. He lowered the glass and
raised the whatever it was to his face. It looked like cloth, torn at the
bottom…

I gasped
out loud as it caught the light. It was my shirt from that day in the office.
The one he’d torn undressing me.

Mr. Drake
whipped his head around at the sound.

I didn’t
move in time, and our eyes locked through the crack in the open door.

“What are
you doing?” His voice was harsh, and I winced at the tone.

I stepped
into the room, tugging the robe tight around my body. “I could ask you the same
question.”

He looked
down at the shirt in his hands, then let it fall to the floor. “You were
supposed to be asleep.”

The look
in his eyes then, a mixture of sadness and regret, made me do something I never
thought I’d do. I crossed the room to his chair, took the glass out of his hand
and set it on the mantle, before saying exactly what was on my mind—what had
been on my mind ever since that day in the office.

“Why won’t
you punish me any more?”

My voice
was soft, almost drowned out by the crackling of the flames, but I knew that
he’d heard.

“Isabeau…
It isn’t that simple.”

“What’s
complicated about it?”

I put my
hands on my hips, and noticed his eyes raking over my curves, barely concealed
by the thin robe.

“If you
don’t want me, I understand.” My voice cracked a little, despite my wishes, and
I looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

He stood,
then, towering over me, darkly sillhouetted against the flames.

“It’s not
that. God, Isabeau… you can’t know what you do to me.”

He moved
close, close enough to hold me if that’s what he wanted. If so, I wasn’t going
to stop him.

“Then what
is it?” I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trailing along his arm until I
reached his hand. He didn’t pull away.

“You don’t
know what you’re asking.”

“Try me.”

There was
a moment of tension, so thick I could barely breathe, and then he closed the
distance between us, grabbing me roughly, his lips crashing down on mine. His
mouth was hot and urgent, making my knees shiver and my pussy heat. I moaned,
opening my lips beneath his, and felt a surge of arousal course through me as
his tongue met mine, searching, tasting, teasing...

I clutched
the front of his shirt, wanting to rip it off, but not sure if it was okay, if
it was proper. He broke the kiss, and looked at me like a wild animal, his eyes
ravenous. I was afraid and nervous and more turned on than I’d ever been in my
life.

“I can
smell your need,” he growled, and slipped a hand beneath my robe, cupping my
sex. “You’re on fire for me.”

“Oh, God,”
I whispered. My core was so wet, so ready, and I felt my juices drip down onto
his palm.

“Tell me
you want this.”

It wasn’t
a question.

“I… I want
this.”

That was
all it took.

He jerked
the belt of my robe open and tore it down off my shoulders. The silk whispered
at it fell to the ground. His eyes roamed my curves, taking in my round breasts
and firm body, my nipples peaking under his gaze. For a moment, I wanted to
cover up, to avoid his searching stare, but then he touched me with those
strong hands, and all thoughts of shyness disappeared.

 
 
He was
rough, but gentle lovemaking was the last thing on my mind. He caressed my
breasts, stopping to twist and pinch each nipple into a stinging point, making
me groan with each jolt of pain. I reached for the buttons of his shirt, but he
slapped my hands, unbuttoning it himself and tossing it aside.

His body
was exactly as I’d imagined: toned, hard, with a sprinkling of light brown hair
across his powerful chest. I wanted to touch him, to take my time, licking my
way down to that oh-so-sexy spot where his abs met his hip, but he held my
wrists in one hand as he worked his buckle. He drew a condom out of his pocket,
then dropped his pants and underwear to the floor.

I gasped
when I saw his erection, stiff and huge, the tip already glistening with
precum, ready to bury itself between my legs. I squirmed in his grasp, needing
him now, wanting him more than I thought was possible. He released my hands
just long enough to rip the condom wrapper open and roll it on, then threw my
arms around his neck.

“Clasp
your hands together, and don’t let go. Understand?”

It was an
order, and my body tingled at his commanding tone, ready and eager to please.

“Yes, Sir.”

I don’t
know why I said it, but I was instantly glad I did. The look on his face was
one of pure animal lust as I did as he demanded, holding my hands together
behind his neck, bracing myself against his broad shoulders.

He picked
me up with a growl and impaled me with one hard thrust. I cried out as his
thick cock stretched me, filling me to an almost painful degree. There was no
foreplay, only this, and it was exactly what I craved.

“Is this
what you want?” He gritted in my ear.

I gasped
in response as he began pumping in and out of me, his hands supporting my ass,
bobbing me up and down on his hot erection. I held on for dear life, feeling
helpless as he bucked up into me, hitting me hard with each jerk of his hips.

“Answer
me! Did you want this, little temp, when you asked why I don’t punish you?”

He dug his
fingers into my skin, bruising me, but I didn’t care. My body felt like it was
on fire, filled with the sensations of this man’s violent lovemaking, unlike
anything I’d ever experienced. My toes curled behind his back as he drove into
me again and again and again.

“Y-yes!
Yes!”

My voice
was high. Breathless. I felt like I was riding a storm, with each thrust
getting me closer and closer to being struck by lightning. He bucked into me
over and over, and time seemed to stand still as I succumbed to his will,
trusting him to hold me as he drove into me again and again.

Then,
suddenly, Mr. Drake unclasped my arms from his neck and grabbed my waist,
flipping me over. I yelled in surprise as my feet hit the ground and he bent me
over his ottoman, my ass sticking up high in the air. He jerked my hands behind
my back and held my wrists together again.

“You call
me Sir when you’re with me like this. Understand?”

His hand
came down hard on one ass cheek, and I yelped at the sharp jolt of pain.

“Yes!”

He hit me
again on the same spot, making me moan into the cushion. My pussy ached to be
filled by him again; the sweet burn amplifying my need.

“What did
I just say? Are you deaf, little temp?”