Pandora's Pleasure: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Vanessa Fewings

  “You always were eloquent.” I drew in a breath. “Did you tell her to do that? To kneel?”

  “Your balls are tight. I can hear it in your voice. Usually, I’d say don’t think with your cock, but you know…”

  “I’m hanging up now.”

  “I need you to remember that this is her first time.”

  “You know the Italians really were cruel fuckers in medieval times. You should see the variety of devices I’ve got lined up in my dungeon for tonight’s game of ‘Let me see how long it takes to make you cry.’”

  “I’m serious, Godman. Slow but sure with this one.”

  “I’m serious, too. The taste of a virgin’s tears and all that.”

  She laughed. “You love your gift.”

  I hung up on her.

  The lighting was dimmed in a soft red haze. Unfamiliar shadows danced over furniture and certain devices I recognized from the porn I’d managed to sneak a peek at while hidden away in my bedroom.

  I stripped down naked again and placed my dress, underwear and shoes on a corner chair.

  An impressively carved four-poster-bed was positioned in the center of the room. But instead of red silk ribbons, there were chains attached to each bedpost with metal cuffs on the end.

  This sense of fight or flight or fuck was cranked up enough to have my nipples beading and my clit throbbing; my pussy was already soaking wet.

  I’d felt just as intimated back when Damien had tied me to the bed in his oceanside home. There’d been no regrets over that evening. He’d warned me it would be memorable, and it was. Though he’d done hardly anything to me there.

  Which was why I hadn’t left this room yet. A replay on that night was as alluring as it was terrifying. I recalled my disappointment when I’d been escorted out of Seascape in the early hours and whisked away in a helicopter with the unspoken threat that I would never return there.

  I ran my palm over my right arm, feeling it tingle at the memory of Damien’s touch, trying to comprehend why I had this craving.

  For him.

  For this.

  For more.

  The excitement inside me elicited a heady sense of arousal that had me craving his affection, yearning for more of his roughness.

  And admittedly his love—or at the very least, his approval.

  What he’d done to me in the back of that chauffeur-driven car on the way here had given me the merest taste of the way he liked to dominate. God, I wanted it.

  Wanted it all, only…

  I looked around at the walls and shelves that offered up strange contraptions promising an alternative to pleasure. It made me recall the images Madeline had shown me—a glimpse into Damien’s depravity, a whole spectrum of perversion, apparently.

  To be taken like that…shared, even. Owned like that woman in the video.

  Footfalls were heading in this direction.

  I gasped and hurried over to the end of the bed, kneeling before it and assuming the same pose that had seemed to please him upstairs.

  I only had to wait a few more moments before he walked into the room.

  He moved toward me with a stern demeanor that sent shivers up my spine. He’d already removed his necktie. I watched as he peeled off his watch strap, placing it on a high table.

  He rolled up his shirt sleeves and casually moved about the room, opening drawers and pulling out contraptions, laying them all in a line on top of the mahogany table.

  Daring to raise my head a little more, I peeked at the nipple clamps he’d chosen. The magic wand that lay beside them looked familiar, and I saw a mysterious metal device that was unappealing. I tried not to betray my thoughts, but was unable to hide my concern.

  He leaned back against the table and returned his focus to me, crossing his ankles casually as though gauging my reaction to the objects he’d put on display.

  I went to speak, wanting to ask what came next.

  He raised his finger to stop me. “Eyes diverted. That was your first mistake. Second, your palms should be turned upward. Ready to receive. Any of this sound familiar?”

  “Don’t send me away,” I blurted out.

  “Give me a good reason not to.”

  “If I don’t experience this now, I never will.”

  “That’s not necessarily true.”

  I shot him a glare. “You know this is not the world I come from.”

  “Second mistake, you’re still speaking. Which offends me.”

  I slapped my hand to mouth to stop myself from interrupting.

  He pushed off and strolled toward me. “This chamber has rules. You broke all of them.”

  I averted my eyes, aware of him kneeling before me, sensing his dangerous demeanor. He even seemed to dominate the air I had to breathe.

  His hand reached between my thighs and he touched me. I jolted when his fingertip brought an instant of bliss as he stroked my sex. Then he pulled away to examine the sticky wetness on the tip of his fingers with curiosity, rubbing the thickness between his thumb and forefinger like a teacher grading a task.

  Reaching for me again, he cupped my pussy, his firm hand pressing against my softness. “I shouldn’t have had to wait for this. You’ve been mine for months.”

  “Let’s make it special between us,” I said breathlessly.

  “It’s my understanding that you’re here for a different kind of special, true?” His thumb grazed my clit.

  I shuddered as his fingers slid along my wetness. Oh, it felt so good. My feelings were gliding between affection and wanting him to be the man I’d imagined he was.

  “So wet.” His finger flicked my clit.

  I flinched forward.

  “Good girl.” A nod, hinting I’d passed a test.

  He pushed to his feet and stared down at me, looking intrigued.

  I reached for his zipper.

  “Another rule broken.”

  I let my hands fall to my thighs with my palms facing up. “I thought you might like it.”

  “What do you want?”

  “My wish is to be taken by you.”

  “Are you hoping that will work in your favor?”

  I looked away, considering how to answer his question. Damien was Yale-smart, and street-smart, too. He’d know I was lying if I denied it.

  “This room,” I whispered. “It’s like a womb.”

  His sternness softened for a beat. “Scared?”

  I leaped to my feet and hurried over to the bed, reaching for one of the chains lying there and slipping my wrist through the metal cuff. “This is what I want.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “I thought wearing this—” My free hand reached for the pendant— “might get your attention. Persuade you to help me and my family. But now I find myself not caring about any of it.”

  “Tell me who the necklace came from.”

  “I promised not to say.”

  “Madeline Rhodes?” He studied me carefully.

  If I said yes, I’d be breaking a confidence.

  “There’s a serial number on it.” He arched a brow. “Each necklace is worth thousands of dollars because of the diamonds. All I have to do is look at it under a magnifier.”

  This felt like a mind game.

  “I gave my word.”

  “I’ll give you exactly what you’re asking for,” he said quietly. “Break that promise to whomever gave the necklace to you, and I will do everything in my power to have your father’s position realized.”

  I’d always been the good girl. The one sent across an ocean to be forged into a valuable asset to be used later. For the first time, I wanted to do something for me. Have my own experience that felt sacred and not waste another second pleasing others. I felt no animosity toward my family. This was about me needing to breathe and have my own life.

  “Answer,” he said.

  Climbing onto the bed, I reached for the other chain and slid my wrist through it, lying flat on the duvet and spreading my legs, showing off my s
oaking wet pussy and not caring—giving in to whatever happened next as my head sunk into the satin pillow.

  “Full transparency,” he said, his tone turning kind. “I just spoke with Madeline.”

  My head snapped up.

  “I know she gave you the pendant.”

  “I want to earn the right to wear it.”

  “I’m impressed you didn’t give her name to me, Pandora—especially considering the stakes. This pleases me.”

  “You can trust me.”

  “I believe you.”

  I felt a rush of relief.

  He gripped the left bedpost and leaned in. “I’m going to film what I do to you. How do you feel about that?”

  “To show someone?”

  “Perhaps, but more for my own enjoyment.”

  “Like a sex tape?”

  “I’m going to be taking a virgin. I want to document it for my collection.”

  I threw a nod toward the high table and the objects that rested on top. “Will you use those?”

  “First, a conundrum.”

  “A puzzle?”

  “You’re not going to like it.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Stay, and you will never get what you want for your father from me. Leave now, and I will do everything in my power to see his ambition realized.”

  These were mind games.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Be here because you want to be. I don’t need a martyr in my life. I want a submissive to dominate. Someone to fuck wherever and whenever I like. A woman who will give herself completely to me. A woman I can cherish.”

  If I stay…

  Upon the wall hung paddles, whips and chains—and more instruments that looked like they could inflict a lot of pain…

  He clicked his fingers to get my attention. “You will obey me in all things. You’re a spoiled brat, Pandora. It’s going to be a tall order.”

  “I’m here, aren’t I? Tied to your bed.”

  “You’re not tied to it yet. But once I clamp those handcuffs, you’re staying. You’re going to be gagged. Am I making myself clear?”

  “I can stay?”

  “Are you sure you want to? Staying means that potentially your family’s aspirations are over. It’s a lot to consider. I can give you some time to think about it.” He gestured his willingness to leave.

  With my chest heaving, I tried to decide if I was willing to throw away everything I’d been trained for—a life dedicated to being my family’s commodity. Now, instead of saving a dynasty, I was considering his offer.

  If I stayed, I’d be his.

  With all this pendant had achieved, it felt sacred to me now, resting delicately against my throat as I lay back on the bed. Damien snapped each of the metal cuffs closed—after he’d stretched my limbs wide and positioned me spread-eagled on the satin bed cover.

  I tried to control my breathing, tried to keep my mind from spinning. Tension rose in me as I watched him take his time preparing the room.

  Candles were lit and placed here and there, their shadows dancing over my naked form. A camera pod was stationed to our left, the lens pointed directly toward the four-poster bed to capture the scene, a blinking red light confirming that filming had begun. I looked over at the mahogany table where the instruments glinted threateningly.

  Finally, Damien appeared ready.

  He kicked off his shoes and then stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned body with sculpted abs and a lean waist. He watched me as I stared, pulling his pants and briefs off and tossing his clothes on top of mine.

  My eyes settled on his enormous cock, curling up his abdomen, the head round and smooth. That would be inside me soon. The thought of it caused me to feel a wave of panic as I watched him stroke it from base to tip, causing it to grow in size.

  He ripped open the small square packet in his hand and eased out a condom, pinching the end and rolling the shiny sheath over his impressive length. His cock continued to grow larger as he secured the condom with nimble fingers.

  My head crashed back onto the pillow.

  At last, it was happening.

  The sound of my rapid breathing filled the chamber. He came at me slowly, crawling from the end of the bed and soon closing in on his prey, causing the mattress to dip slightly as he leaned on his elbows.

  His thumb brushed over my lips. “Ready?”

  I gave him a hesitant nod and glanced over at the camera.

  “Keep your eyes on me.” He brushed a wisp of hair out of my eyes. “It’s going to be uncomfortable. Bite down on my shoulder if it helps. Don’t worry about me. I like it.”

  My mouth went dry and I licked my lips as I fathomed his words.

  “Want something to drink?”

  Just do it…get it over with.

  “If you want me to stop at any time, just say.” His thumb slipped into my mouth.

  I suckled on it, surrendering to the sensuality.

  His hand moved, cupping my cheek. “Slow your breathing.”

  I wanted to tell him to be gentle, but the contents of this room screamed that it wasn’t his way. This man appeared to search out pain and probably drenched himself in it. The same level of endurance would be expected of me, no doubt. All I had to do was survive seconds and minutes and possibly hours of discomfort.

  Yet despite my trepidation, my body craved that same agony, like a numbness needing to be clawed at—a fragile body needing to be proven strong.

  His honesty soothed a part of me, as though his promise of torture might cancel out a past of privilege—that side of me that had been coddled and protected and kept safe, lifting me out of the dullness of my existence.

  “I’m ready for the pain,” I whispered.

  Dark eyes seemed to see through me. “Silence.”

  After dipping a fingertip in his mouth, he placed it upon my nipple and circled the areola, moving slowly until it pebbled; an erotic torment that brought a surge of arousal. His attention moved to my other breast, and he used the same hypnotic method to make me moan.

  I saw approval in his eyes.

  His mouth crashed down on mine, his tongue darting in and exploring, fiercely searching, warring with my tongue.

  This was our first kiss and it felt divine, as though we really were lovers who were obsessed with each other. Wanton and needy, he hungrily savaged my mouth and I gave into his demands willingly, groaning with pleasure, eliciting a deeper kiss.

  When he pulled away, he studied me carefully, as though seeing me in a whole new light.

  My arms ached to reach out and pull him to me. I wanted to hold him against me and let the hour slip away with us in an embrace. But I was bound and prevented from moving. I was his to do with as he pleased.

  Exulting in my capture, he rose and positioned himself between my spread thighs, dipping his head, his tongue beginning to explore my pussy, causing my back to arch.

  Pouting, I tried to endure the way he thrummed my clit, causing it to throb and swell. He devoured that most private part of me with an aggression I would never cease to want, my hips rising to press my pelvis into his face.

  “Want to taste yourself?” he asked huskily.

  I want it all…

  I nodded frantically and he answered my need by moving up over my body to kiss me fiercely, sharing my sweet taste as his tongue lavishly spread what was forbidden.

  He pulled back, resting on his elbows above me so that his engorged cock was visible, looming close to my entrance.

  “Do you want me to stop?” he whispered, his eyes blazing with desire.

  “I thought you were going to gag me.”

  He leaned in and planted kisses along the crook of my neck, sending tingles along my skin, distracting me with the gentle affection.

  He followed the soaking wet line of my cleft, inserting the tip of his erection into my entrance and pushing in a little.

  A pinch.

  He watched my reaction.

  My thighs were sticky
from how wet he’d gotten me. I sucked in a lung-full of air as he shoved in a little more, stretching me wide, causing a shock of pain in my pussy.

  I snapped my gaze over to the lens that captured every move, every whisper, every sigh—my sacred moment his to enjoy later.

  I’d demand to watch it, too.

  Remembering what he’d told me to do and feeling like it might help, I lifted my head a little and suckled on his shoulder, my teeth biting into his flesh.

  “Harder,” he coaxed.

  Reluctantly, yet needing the relief, I dug my teeth into firm muscle.

  My reward for this action was his hand sliding down between my thighs and his fingertip settling on my clit. He beat a perfect rhythm, causing my pussy to clamp down on the head of his cock.

  He shoved all the way in—breaking through, breaking me in two…a glorious agony that made me let out a deep-throated groan. I squeezed my eyes shut to endure the pressure as he moved deeper inside me.

  “God, you’re tight.” He gritted his teeth as though in pain, his expression taut and focused, perspiration spotting his brow. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  I arched my back, trying to endure his first full hard thrust, gasping with the discomfort, a terrible ache forging its way into pleasure. It was too much, yet it wasn’t enough, his filling me entirely with a threat of tearing. His finger flicked my clit, trying to edge me on as he pulled out a little and then eased back in, the sound of my slickness and stickiness no doubt caught on film.

  My trembling certainly was, too, as were my moans as I squirmed beneath him. Unable to reach for his back, I strained against the cuffs, my wrists and ankles sore from the metal; but the sensation of restraint was pure ecstasy. I welcomed the sense of helplessness…being conquered by this man.

  He rested his head on my chest. “I want to pound you but it’s too soon.”

  “I want it.”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. How does it feel?”

  My jaw slackened as he rolled his hips in a circle. “Oh, it feels good, my pussy feels so…”

  He nestled his face into my hair and whispered, “Say how your cunt feels out loud.”

  This was him asking for the sake of the camera, I just knew it. Instead of hating him for it, I adored the idea of this being recorded to be savored at another hour. I didn’t care if he showed it to anyone. The idea of others watching him fuck me caused my arousal to spike—proving my desires were similar to his. I shuddered as my imagination overflowed with all the possibilities of what else he might do.