Caught: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (His Domination Book 2) (7 page)

Monica didn’t dare nod. She had the power to say her safe word if necessary, and that was enough.

The door opened and closed again. What in the
world
was he doing? Was this a part of his game with her? Not that Monica didn’t like it. But obsessing over Henry’s true motives gave her a distraction from the plug in her ass and the clamps on her nipples. Every time she gave herself the luxury of thinking about
those
she had to fight off an orgasm biting at her toes and squirming inside her stomach. Whenever she moved, she became wetter between the legs until she moaned from the effort it took to try to hold her climax in.

What a sight she must be. A small woman dressed in brand new lingerie and tied up like this in a rich man’s bed. For all she knew, a door had been left open for the staff to glance in and see.
Wouldn’t that be something…
Monica shuddered. She liked some sexual humiliation. Throw in some exhibitionism and she might have the time of her life. The only thing better than pleasing her Dom was letting the whole world watch her do it. In another life, Monica would make her fortune catching it all on tape.

I’m his doll.
Her legs hurt and her arms cramped from being held together so long.
Dolls don’t feel anything. They don’t have any needs.
Monica pulled herself into the back of her mind, imagining what it would be like to actually be a doll. Not just any doll. A man’s plaything – his vessel of pleasure. A life-sized doll that didn’t come cheap. No… only the richest, most affluent man could buy a specimen like her. Henry had tied her up according to how he wanted to see her. Monica was his plaything, with careful attention paid to her erogenous zones… not necessarily to please her, but to give him something to admire the next time he walked through that door.

She had to think lifeless. She had to think quiet. She had to think
his.

When she released the trappings pinning her to worldly pleasures, Monica was able to turn off the torture going on in her body. Henry would return soon enough. And when he did? She would be ready for him. Whatever he wanted, she would deliver. After all, she was a doll, and all she cared about was being played with.

Just as she achieved this kind of nirvana, the door quietly opened and closed a final time.

Henry did not immediately come to her. He took his time meandering around the room, having a drink of this and clinking that into a glass tray. Monica heard all these details. She even heard the heavy breaths coming out of his nose, and the unbuttoning of his shirt before it fell to the floor. What puzzled her the most, however, was the feeling of his knee resting on the bed followed by the welcomed sound of his zipper coming undone. Then nothing.

Nothing aside from some breaths and the occasional grunt slipping out of his throat.

Is he stroking himself to the sight of me?
Monica wished she could see him with his hand wrapped around his hard cock and taunting her like he taunted her with the plug, the clamps, and the thighs forced apart. If the man were feeling ostensibly cruel, he would come on her mound and then make her wait for him to get hard again. Yet she never heard the hurried breaths of a man on the brink, nor did she feel something wet and warm hit her skin. All she could hear now was the beating of her own heart echoing in her head.
Breathe, idiot.
The clamps hurt. In a good way that was going to drive her mad.

Henry’s hands groped both of her breasts. He loomed over her now, his threatening weight almost making good on a promise to crush her. Monica waited for a kiss, but one never came. Why would it? She was a doll, and a man like this would not kiss his doll.

Nevertheless, she almost spoke when he lifted her hips into the air, tied legs touching his biceps as he directed his hard cock toward her desperation.

Monica barely had time to collect what was left of her bearings before Henry Warren drove himself into her.

Relief claimed her. After who knew how long of sitting, waiting, and wishing to feel him like this again, Monica finally got her reward. Henry held himself inside her, letting her stretch and accommodate him before he began to gently roll his hips against her. Monica kept her lips sealed shut and her throat quiet. Well, the latter was easier said than done. Countless groan after groan bubbled in there, and every time Henry smoothly pulled out and pushed himself back into her she nearly wept.

He felt so good. Especially when he pushed her hips into the bed and drove into her, his cock stretching her wide but meeting no resistance. Not after a morning of touching herself, feeling the plug inside of her, and having those clamps constantly stimulate her nipples.

It was sensory overload. Henry held her hip with one hand and her shoulder with the other, keeping her still and steady as he thrust into her over and over, his breath becoming ragged and his motions more erratic. The man swelled within her, but kept his thrusts even – long, purposeful, and deep enough to drive Monica mad. Yet she still did not speak, and she managed to keep her louder moans within her, channeling them toward her loins, which were on the receiving end of Henry’s pursuit for pleasure.

He didn’t say a word to her, not that he had to. His hand slipped from her shoulder and to her breast, tugging on the clamp before smacking and grabbing her flesh. Monica lifted her hips involuntarily. Her Dom’s cock filled her as much as it could.

She was quickly slipping. Thighs wet and stuffed to her core, Monica concentrated on the sensation of Henry thrusting in and out of her, his thrusts increasing in speed and intensity.

Monica could have held out longer if it weren’t for the angle at which he entered her now. Between gravity and his own skill, Henry hit her where it counted, and a giant spark of pleasure tore her apart.

“Mmf!” She couldn’t help it. Orgasm was breaking her, the one that had built up inside of her since the last time he pleased her like this. A wave of relief and pleasure washed over her warm skin and settled in her stomach, now held down by both of Henry’s hands. The clamps clinked as her breasts bounced before his eager eyes; the plug in her ass seemed to grow in size as her muscles contracted around it; the gag in her mouth drowned in saliva and from the groans erupting from her chest. Most of all, she relished in that full and perfect feeling of her Dom continuing to fuck her at the same rhythm even after she began to hold onto him with the brute strength of her orgasm.

Not for long. An excited grunt hit Monica’s ears, and the next thing she knew she was in the middle of her orgasm when Henry began his. He filled her with more than his cock. The sheer amount of heat expanding inside of her told Monica that Henry was more than satisfied with her performance. Even though they did not speak to or kiss one another, they shared an elation that only a well synced Dom and sub could have.

Henry slowed his movements before pulling out of her. Instantly his seed spilled out, running down her skin and covering the flared base of her plug. Henry removed it without a second thought – another relieving contraction sent some of his seed into her opened hole.

The clamps came off one after the other. Henry bent down and blew against her nipples before gently rolling across them with his tongue, keeping them hard but easing any swelling. This time Monica let a moan escape her. When her arms and legs were released from their binds, she carefully moved them, feeling the tension evaporate as Henry helped her change position so her joints would not be hurt.

Finally, the blindfold came off. Then the gag in her mouth.

She was halfway onto her stomach by now, legs closed but seed still easing out of her body. Henry massaged her side before curling up behind her and wrapping a strong arm around her midsection. The lips on her neck only made Monica sigh.

“By the way, you can speak now.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to sleep. Not even when Henry began covering her sore spots in cream and tender touches did she open her mouth to say anything.

“Did you enjoy that?”

His leg was hooked beneath hers. Monica rolled back into his embrace, relishing in the easy way he loved on her.
Why does this man want me so much?
Was it because she was such a good sub? Or was there something else about her that he admired and wanted to have? Men were such a mystery to her sometimes. “I did.” Her voice was hoarse from disuse.

“I thought about you until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Knowing that you were up here waiting for me like this… all I could think about was taking you. And then to see the way your body begged for it when I got here… you’re destroying me, Monica. You don’t know how much power you have.”

He kissed her ear and fingered her slit. Monica collapsed in exhaustion, her only request that he keep doing that and then take a nap with her. Henry would not commit to anything until Monica started to orgasm once more, his fingers inside of her and teasing her ass as well.

“My princess,” he whispered into her ear before sucking the side of her breast. Monica was still coming, this second orgasm taking much longer to accomplish than the first. Her body shook in fatigue but would not give up the pleasure she felt. “There’s still so much I want to do to you. I haven’t seen your limits yet. I want to find them and shatter them.”

He gave one final thrust of his fingers and made her quiver around them, her arousal drenching his skin in her inability to care anymore.
You’re already pushing my limits, Henry.
His wet fingers rubbed the inside of her thighs as he mentioned how swollen and wet her nether lips were.
You don’t know that you are, but it’s happening.
Monica clung to him the moment he embraced her, a kiss the size of her uncertainty blossoming between them.

Chapter 5

The Dark Hour

“Of course I’ve been here before,” Monica said later that night. “What, you think I was never aware of the most exclusive BDSM club in America?”

“I never said you weren’t aware of it.” Henry took her by the arm and led her through the front entrance of the club, a spacious, dark abode deep in the center of the local city. “I merely asked if you had been here before. There’s a difference.”

They approached the doorman, a fellow dressed in a designer suit but liable to bash someone’s head in if they looked at him wrong. Monica flashed him a sweet smile while Henry pulled out his ID and shared his name. The doorman checked it on a member list and showed them through.

“And I told you, I’ve been here before.” Monica let Henry remove her coat and pass it on to the girl behind a counter. She wore a gold, glittery mask and a smile the size of the building.

“Hello, Mr. Warren,” she said with a hint of flirtation in her voice. “And who is the lovely lady with you?” The girl handed him a claim check for the coats.

Henry put it in his wallet. “Don’t tell me you don’t know Monica Graham. She says she’s been here before.”

The girl stepped back from her window, her blond hair swishing in the dim light. “I’ve heard of you, ma’am. Forgive me. I didn’t start working here until a few months ago.”

They both returned her smile. Henry put a tight hand around Monica’s shoulder and directed her toward the hallway leading to the main sitting area. Not that they would deign to sit so low in one of the country’s most private members-only club.

Monica had been here.
The Dark Hour.
There were elite BDSM clubs all over the world, but this was the Western Hemisphere’s #1 abode. Any man – or woman – who had the financial means and the love for the relationship between a Dom and sub came here. Just like they would visit Monica’s Château up in the rural hills, they would make some time to check out The Dark Hour. Men in expensive suits and smoking cigars; women in flashy dresses and collars; both crawling on the floor and wielding whips. A center stage bathed in red and blue lights boasted the occasional show and demonstrations. Monica saw on the calendar of events that they recently had a shibari demonstration.
I should find out who did it and hire them to tutor my girls.
Always the business-minded woman.

Henry apparently had a membership important enough to give him a VIP table in the corner upstairs. Monica sat next to the railing and looked down at the stage, all while Henry flagged down a scantily clad server to order them drinks.

“What will you have?” he asked. “I’m getting a gin and tonic.”

Monica batted her eyelashes at him. “Whatever you want to get me, Mr. Warren.”

He looked at her for a few seconds, completely ignoring the server in favor of sharing a smirk with his girlfriend. “Get the lady a Manhattan. Put them both on my tab.”

When the server left, he turned to Monica and wrapped his arm around the back of her chair. “Did I guess right? You seem like a woman who loves hard liquor and some fun.”

“You haven’t seen me with a good amount of hard liquor yet. I’m pretty giggly.”

“Hang on. Let me get that girl. I’ll load you up with Manhattans.”

The drink was perfect.
Amazing that he knew I like vermouth.
A lucky guess, really. Monica liked most liquor, so that wasn’t an issue. She even dared to ask to taste his gin and tonic mere seconds after enjoying the first sip of her Manhattan. Henry slid his glass toward her and stole her Manhattan. Unlike her, he did not enjoy both.