The Billionaire's Demon (2 page)

“Holy hell!”

Drake started at his assistant manager’s exclamation. He turned toward the door to see what had him all riled up. Drake spotted the hottie dressed in head to toe leather that had caused the outburst and the blood drained from his head to his dick. The air shifted around him, sucking the oxygen from his lungs.
Holy hell was right
. He wanted to call her beautiful, but one little word didn't seem like enough. Her perfection blinded him. From the honey blonde hair that curled around her head before falling down her back just shy of her ass, to her ivory face, to the dusky rose flush on her cheekbones setting off her wide jade green eyes.

And God, that mouth. Lush lips cloaked in a glossy red color.

The wicked things he imagined those lips could do.

“That's the one I told you about, Drake. The one who was here the other night, tormenting all of your customers.” John spoke in a low voice so no one would overhear.

Drake lifted his head in acknowledgement, but no words came to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off the woman at the door.

She walked slowly, hips swaying, searching the room, looking for something. Or maybe someone. He sure as hell hoped she wasn't here with someone because he had to have her. Every cell in his body fired with heat at the sudden images searing his brain.

He wanted to flip up that poor excuse for a skirt and run his hands across her naked ass, massaging the globes. It didn’t take much imagination to know that cream-colored skin of hers would pink up nicely with his personal brand of spanking.

Oh yeah
. His hand would leave a fine mark on her perfect flesh. Unlike most of the Doms he knew, he only spanked a submissive's bottom with his bare hand. The skin-to-skin connection he craved was necessary to his control. Her gaze continued to dart around the room as she sauntered over to the bar. She propped herself on a stool and ordered a diet soda on the rocks.

His gaze was drawn to the slender line of her back and the rounded curves of her rear. Drake shifted restlessly in his chair. He wasn't the only one to notice her; already the crowd stirred around her. Many men and women stared at the newbie, and oh yeah, she was definitely a newbie. The sharks smelled fresh blood in the water and were preparing to swoop in on their prey. The pending frenzy was enough to send his simmering sexual need boiling to the surface.

In a split-second decision, Drake stalked over to the bar to claim her first. At her chair, he took a wide stance to her side and a little behind her back, blocking her from many in the room, as well as letting the other Doms know to back off. Claim staked.

She must have sensed his presence, as she turned to the left and took a long hard look at him, something akin to recognition and pain clouding her eyes for a brief moment—but that couldn't be right. He'd never forget seeing a woman like her. When she flashed him the sweetest smile he'd seen in a long time, he decided he had to have been mistaken.

“Hi there.” Her voice slid across his skin as smooth as his favorite white mocha latte his lovely assistant made for him every morning.

“Hi yourself.” This close, her scent filled his senses with the distinctive smell of spiced tea. Spiked spiced tea. The kind that warmed him on a cold night, leaving him breathless and edgy from the Chinese herbs. She smelled like sin.

His fingers itched to touch those creamy bare shoulders left exposed by her leather corset, not to mention the lush curves of her breasts he imagined finding underneath. It was going to be so much fun to play with this one.

“I don't believe I've seen you here at the Dungeon before,” he began.

She tilted her head in a coy move that almost made her seem shy, “I've only been here once. I overheard some people talking about it and I was curious, so I've been checking it out.” She uncrossed and recrossed her legs on the stool, a nervous gesture that gave him a better glimpse of silken thighs. Yeah, he couldn't wait to get her under him, wrapping those mile-long legs around his waist, pushing her limits to the breaking point.

“Have you ever been to a BDSM club before this one?” He signaled for the bartender. A shy smile tugged at her mouth, and she shook her head no. “Mind if I sit here with you?” His curiosity was piqued.

“Please.” She motioned to the empty seat next to hers. Drake wasted no time. He sat, adjusting his already hard cock in his pants so the seam wouldn't keep digging into the sensitive skin. He caught her watching his groin as he adjusted, which only made him swell further. A smile threatened the corners of his mouth. At this rate, he'd be dragging her to a booth in record time.

He turned to the bartender, who waited expectantly for his order. “I’ll take another brandy and the lady”, he turned and stared at her for a second while he decided, “and I think the lovely lady should try a shot of Diva Vodka.”

He brow furrowed in question, which he purposely ignored. She’d see soon enough. “So, are you a top or a bottom?” If she said top, he was going to die on the spot. He didn’t bottom—ever, but he was damn sure this woman would be his.

“I don't really know what I am.” She shifted again in her seat. “I've never done anything like this. Only read about it in novels and online.”

“Okay, that’s not unusual. So tell me what it's like when you read about it? Does it turn you on?” A little catch in her breath gave away her answer. “Is there something in particular that gets you going?”

Her hands rolled the napkin on the bar and then unrolled it again. She repeated the process several times without answering. He didn't mind. He was nothing if not patient. He leaned close to her ear to whisper, getting a whiff of that delicious spicy scent. The heat rose in the room as perspiration broke out on his skin. “It's okay to be nervous.” She smiled, biting the corner of her lower lip with perfect white teeth.

“I'm not nervous. I'm just deciding what I want to try first.”

He sucked in a deep breath to clear his head and instead ended up flooded with a distinct new scent. That wasn't just her soap or perfume. No, that was the fragrance of arousal. Hot, thick, and, he'd bet, as sweet as syrup when he lapped up every drop. He eyed her neck, following the graceful curve along her shoulders and arms. Her hands stilled under his scrutiny, her breath halted. For the first time in a long time, he looked forward to a scene. He reached for her and pulled her onto his lap, ignoring her squeak of surprise. This was, after all, a sex club, and all who dared enter knew what they were getting into. The club had the signed release forms to prove it.

He nestled his aching dick between the cheeks of her ass, wishing the denim and leather would disappear.

“What's your name, beautiful?”

“Melody,” she answered.

He almost laughed.
Who would have thought perfectly packaged sin would come wrapped in an innocent name like Melody?

“I'm Drake, and it would be my pleasure to teach you a bit about the lifestyle tonight if you so wish.” Her restless ass wiggled against his lap, testing his renowned patience like never before. He wondered how far she was prepared to take this.

“I don't know, Drake.” She drawled her answer, mocking his offer.

“Gonna be like that, huh?”

She smiled coyly.

“A real brat I see.” Her tinkling giggle rode the control he clung to by a thread. If it broke free, he'd be hauling her fine ass to the whipping post. He loved to play with a bratty sub but he wanted her to know more about what she was getting into first.

Fortunately for her, the bartender returned with his drink and her empty glass, catching both their attention. He nodded for the man to proceed.

He pulled the most ridiculously expensive vodka from his personal cabinet behind him and began to pour.

“Are those? I mean—Those aren’t real diamonds are they?” She peered closer, almost pressing her face to the bottle in front of her.

“They might be,” he teased. “I’ve been told diamond filtered vodka is something to be experienced.”

“Sounds expensive.” She turned, took another glance around the room, and then faced him directly. “In fact, everything in here seems expensive tonight. I don’t remember everyone looking so formal before. Did I walk in on something private? Should I go?”

He picked up her glass and moved it to her lips. “You most certainly should not go.” She swallowed the sip of liquor he fed her. “Tonight is our version of a costume party. We dress to the nines.”

She looked him up and down. “I’d certainly say so.”

The appreciation in her eyes for his attire brought him back to the question he’d been about to ask when the bartender interrupted. “Do you like pain, Melody?”

An almost imperceptible jerk of her shoulders gave way to a grim line across her face. But it was the dark heat in her gaze that gave her away her desire. He lifted her off his crotch and settled her in between his legs facing the bar. His strong hands boldly caressed the smooth skin of her thighs, slipping just under the hemline of her short skirt to graze the curve of her cheeks. To his delight, her ass was bare except for the slim strip of lace from her thong. “Would you like the sharp sting of my hand slapping your bottom? I bet it would color up nicely.” His bold hands moved farther under her skirt to fondle and nip at her beautiful skin.

She gasped at a particularly firm pinch, and he couldn't help but smile. This woman, whom he just met, writhed underneath his touch, her quick response remarkable and stoking every dominant cell in his body. He looked around, remembering they were still at the open bar, and saw many hungry gazes watching their show. Given half the chance, a dozen or so men would challenge him for her. But he wanted to be the one to teach her, to reveal the depths of pleasure she could attain from his pain and control.

“You came in here tonight looking for something, Melody. Will you let me give you a taste of what being with a Dominant is like?” She murmured a response under her breath as her bottom wiggled harder into his hands.
Oh yeah, primed and ready.

“You have nothing to fear. Anything we do will be safe and consensual per the rules of the club as well as my own beliefs. If you say stop, we stop.” He ran the tip of his finger along the seam of her bottom, dipping under the lace of her panties. He waited for her objection, but none came. Instead he sensed her need to say yes while holding back. He pulled her farther back onto his lap, her body flush against his chest so his lips rested near her ear.

“Do you need me to tell you what to do? Is that what you want? For me to take away your choice in the matter?”

His warm words brushed against her ear and neck, heating her further. He somehow knew just what she needed to hear. His big rough hands continued to roam her skin with just the right amount of gentle caresses and firm pressure. Her panties were likely soaked as moisture continued to slip from her sex, driving her wild. Would it shock him to discover how much she wanted to be taken?

But wait
! This was Drake.
Shit
!

She'd momentarily lost her senses under the onslaught of his attentions, forgetting the shock of seeing him again. When she'd walked into the club, she'd noticed him right off.

He and his friends sat at a little table near the end of the bar. His jet-black wavy hair had curled around his neck and collar, and still looked as in need of a haircut as the last time she’d seen him. Angled away from the entrance, she hadn't seen his eyes, but she remembered the hazel depths she'd gotten lost in many times and the strong lines of his masculine face. His shoulders had seemed a yard wide, molded underneath a white shirt and dark coat, with bronzed muscles underneath she knew rippled when he moved. Her gaze wandered down the lines of his strong form, admiring the grip of the tailored black slacks across sturdy thighs. Even in a crowd, his presence compelled, and her instincts had warned her to bolt back out the door.

Instead, time had stood still and she'd been thrust into the past. Her mystery man had ventured into the library every week for months before she got up the nerve to approach him. But once she did, he lavished her with attention every chance he got. Her stomach fluttered now much as it did before when she stood too close him. His aura of strength wrapped around her until her panties were wet and her sex clenched with a fierce arousal she couldn't control.

They'd flirted and kissed in the stacks, until one day things got out of hand and Drake almost took her virginity. One minute she'd been a silly young girl in love, with his tongue lapping at her pussy, and the next he was gone. For a while, she'd believed her rash confession of virginity had driven him away, but eventually she'd faced the facts that his leaving had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his own weaknesses. Not long after that she’d met Harold…

Finding Drake in a club like this after all this time definitely shed new light on the situation, and the timing couldn't be better.

She wanted to stomp right over there and give him hell. Thankfully, she'd remembered just in time that he wouldn't be able to recognize her anymore. He'd spurned Melanie, not Melody. Her emotions had gone white-hot under the onslaught of memories, and she'd thought to get some payback. With one soul down the other night, she still had four more to go to get Harold off her back. Drake seemed the perfect quarry. Instead of a child like outburst, a new idea had sprung and she’d acted quickly. Melody bit her tongue to keep the smile from her face. He'd walked right into her impromptu trap, and now she was on the cusp of a little revenge, Melody-style.