Violent Desires: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Linnea May

  But he's too strict for that. I grimace in pain when he pulls my face back at the roots of my hair, tilting my head all the way back into my neck as he rubs his length in front of me.

  "Look at me," he hisses with frantic, panting breaths. "Look at me, toy!"

  My eyes wander up to his. I blink desperately to clear my blurred vision, just in time to see his handsome face as he climaxes, shooting ribbon after ribbon of hot cum across my face while I cast him a smile of accomplishment.

  Chapter 21

  Loran

  There's hope illuminating her eyes. Hope that I won't deny her a much needed orgasm, now that I've had my fun.

  But it wouldn't be punishment if I permitted her to come. I told her I would punish her, and while the spanking might have come across as punishment, never once did I think it would suffice. I knew she'd get off on it. She didn't have to tell me that she's into these things, her body speaks louder and more clearly than any words could.

  "Lick it up," I tell her calmly, pointing to the drops of cum pooling at the corner of her mouth. She does as she's told, tossing me a naughty smile, and then closing her eyes when she swallows my jizz with contented flourish.

  That little minx.

  "You're not coming today, toy," I say. "No matter what kind of tricks you try to play on me."

  Her eyes flicker with understanding. “I’m not playing any tricks on you.”

  I cast her a severe look, my eyebrows arching with warning. Next, I unfasten the rope so that I can help her get up, enjoying the view of her shaking like a young deer just learning to walk. She's a natural beauty, and I love seeing her like this, bared, used, and dripping with my cum. I wish I had the time to fill her every hole with it today, but I have other commitments that will force me to leave the house soon.

  She's standing next to me, supporting herself up against the bondage horse. She peers at me through widened eyes, her expression almost appearing innocent, except fort he remains of dried cum dotting her cheeks.

  "Turn around," I demand. "Show me your ass."

  A shy smile scurries across her face as she readily obeys my demand. Her ass exhibits different shades of red, each hue appearing as wide stripes that mark both of her luscious cheeks. I was careful not to draw blood, but the marks are clearly visible, and they will be for a few more days.

  "This will remind you not to defy me."

  She turns around then, delivering a smile that suggests she's about to object.

  "No," she says, proving my suspicion. "It will only remind me of the good part."

  She pauses, biting her lower lip as she ponders whether it's smart to continue speaking. I jut my chin forward, beckoning her to finish saying whatever it is she has on her mind.

  "Your punishment was much worse than that," she says eventually. "It's the agony of not coming after I've been teased to no end, after I've felt your cock inside me - that's what will remind me not to defy you."

  I nod, taking a step toward her until I’m near enough to close my arms around her. She's in the know about everything, and yet she chooses to enjoy the things inflicted upon her, seeking to get as much out of it herself as she can.

  I clearly failed at picking a suitable victim for what I originally had in mind.

  Real fear, real submission. What does that even mean? I'm beginning to question my scheme, but I'm in too deep now to see a way out of it. I don't know what I'm going to do with her. For all that I don’t know, I do know one thing: I'm not letting her go, because I'm nowhere near done with her.

  "You need to take a shower," I announce.

  Her eyes rest on mine for a moment, as if she expects me to say something else, but when I remain silent. she turns and walks toward the bathroom. The red stripes painted across her ass dance seductively as she sways her hips. I just came on her beautiful face, but I crave her as much as if that had never happened. I check the time on my Rolex. There's not much time left before I need to leave, but it could be just enough.

  I hear her starting the shower. Without thinking twice, I rid myself of my shirt and pants. Stroking my throbbing cock, my steps lead me towards the sound of the running water and rising steam. She doesn't even look surprised when I appear next to her, turning her wet and naked body around so she's facing the wall. Eagerly hollowing her back, she looks over her shoulder, warm water streaming down her face, cleansing away the remains from our earlier exploit.

  "You want me again?" she asks, reaching one hand behind her to spread her ass cheeks apart. "Which hole, master?"

  I growl. This is only because I didn't let her come. She's acting this way because her mind is blinded by lust.

  Nevertheless, she shouldn't be this eager, not after all I've told her.

  "You're not scared at all, are you?" I say, my voice muffled by the water streaming down on us. I reach for the faucet next to her and change the setting to rain. The dribbling flow will encompass us in the water's warmth without the disruptive noise of a regular shower stream.

  "After all I've told you, after all I've done to you, you stand here and offer me everything, willingly giving your body to a man who took you without - as you said - having the right to do so."

  Her eyelashes flutter and she evades me for a moment, looking as if she's been caught doing something wrong.

  "What do you want me to do?" she asks. "You want me to scream at you? Fight you? Kick you? Just so you can tie me up again, maybe even leave me alone on that stretching bank for all eternity?"

  Her eyes wander back up to mine, searching for an answer I'm not willing – maybe not even able – to give her.

  "Yes, that's what you want, isn't it?" she adds. "You want me desperate, you want me scared. You want me to act out against your wishes."

  My eyes narrow scarily as I start closing in on her. She sighs when my thick, long, hard length pokes roughly into her back, and I don't stop her from reaching for it, closing her small hand around it. I suppress a moan when she starts stroking me, directing the tip between her ass cheeks as she hollows her spine even more, leaning back into me with yearning.

  "I'm sorry," she breathes huskily. "But I've always been a bad actress. I can’t play the role of a poor victim who's appalled at you for doing this to me, because that's not who I am. That's not how I feel."

  "You're naive," I snap. "This is not one of your jobs. I didn't buy you. If I wanted an eager slave who was willing to serve me just like that, offering herself to me off-handedly because there's payment at the end - then I would've gone to the agency like I have before."

  Her eyes widen in surprise. It seems that aspect wasn't clear to her until now, the fact that I was actually a former client of the agency she works for.

  "You're right, this is different," she agrees. "It's real, just like you wanted. I'm giving you nothing else but the real me."

  Her grip around my cock tightens, and I watch as she guides the tip to her core. Warm water is pearling down her spine, parting into streams as the water travels across the bruised curves of her ass. I let her do it. I don't stop her from moving my cock where she wants it, and I don't retreat when she leans back, taking in my length, her channel clenching with need. I stand as if paralyzed, watching my toy moan as she takes all of me in, moving her hips back and forth as she fucks me.

  She's the one fucking me this time.

  My hands dig into her sides. I take over control, pushing her against the wall as I ram my iron-hard cock between her tight lips. She moans, pressing into the wall. Her eyes are closed and her mouth parted, and the sound of frantic breaths fills the shower.

  She's so fucking wet, so fucking hot. I can feel her muscles tensing around me greedily.

  "I want you," she breathes. "I want this."

  I look at her face, a blissful and relaxed expression speaking of the delirious pleasure she finds herself in.

  I'm not going to make it that easy for her.

  She gasps with disappointment when I withdraw myself from her sex, only to mewl in confusion
when I guide my cock upwards, teasing her tight puckered hole with the tip.

  "You said I could have any hole I want," I remind her.

  She nods, and her eyes fly open startled, staring into nothingness as she whispers, "Yes, master. Anything you want. I’m yours."

  Her cry echoes through the bathroom when I shove myself inside her, stretching her tightness with my entire length in one dominating push.

  "Oh, does it hurt?" I ask innocently. "I'm sorry, my toy, but you asked for this."

  She alternates between whimpering in agony and moaning with pleasure. I continue pistoning inside her, feeling her tightness closing in around me as I sodomize her more brutally than I've ever done to anyone. The shower is still raining down on us, so it's hard to tell whether some of the streams on her face may taste of salt. She cries out, her face grimacing in pain, but at the same time, she’s leaning into me and begging for me to continue. I fuck her savagely, taking everything she has to give, and demanding more.

  And yet, I'm not taking anything she isn't willing to give.

  She reaches down between her legs, and while my first instinct is to stop her, I restrain and instead follow an impulse that's stronger than the will to punish her.

  I don't allow her to come. I want her to come. I want her to explode when my cock is buried deep inside her tight ass. I want to feel her clenching around me and hear her scream as she loses herself in unfathomable ecstasy.

  She's enough of a good girl to make sure that I'm not denying her this time by the look she casts me over her shoulder. Her eyes seek and plead with mine for permission as she plays with her clit.

  "Come, toy," I tell her. "Come for me!"

  Only seconds pass until she obeys my command, her body literally elevating off the floor. She rises up on her toes, letting the rapture flood over her. Her tight body squirms against the tiles. Water splashes everywhere, and her muscles tense, and suddenly I can't stop myself from following her over the edge.

  She's still pulsating with need and the aftershocks of her orgasm when I explode inside her, filling her tight hole with cum. She exhales a ragged breath and turns to study me over her shoulder, her green eyes sparkling in triumph.

  Chapter 22

  Loran

  I haven't seen my brother in months. That's not as sad as it sounds. We've never been particularly close, despite our small age difference. Despite sharing the same parents, we are very different people who grew up under very different circumstances.

  He's always been the golden boy in my parents' eyes, the heir, the prodigy who skipped fourth grade, but who hasn't really done anything impressive since then. On the contrary. He'd be in prison if it wasn't for me, and he'd be penniless, too, as would my parents. I don't think they would ever change their opinion about either of us, even if they knew the full story about what happened. Even if they knew that I was the one who saved our family's business, that I was the one who made sure we retained our wealth, and that I was the one who not only bailed out my fucked-up brother, but the one who covered up his deed and helped him - and our family's company - get out of the mess he created, and without any lasting repercussions.

  I never told them anything about it, because it wouldn't change a thing. I don't need anything to change, and I also have to consider the deal my brother and I made. He knows some shit about me that I don't want exposed. He knows how I spend my free time, about the easy and ever-changing string of girls, the prostitutes, about the twisted things I do to women. He's the only person on the planet who wouldn't be surprised to find my toy chained up in the basement. It's what he'd expect of me. I'm the sick one, the black sheep who was dumb enough to get caught paying a girl for sex before I was even legal, while he's the one who brought home a picture-perfect girlfriend who is now his wife and pregnant with their first child. He may be a criminal and a loser when it comes to business, but unlike me, he's playing the role of heir to a wealthy and reputable family perfectly. And no one will ever know the truth about either one of us.

  Because as long as I keep my mouth shut, so will he. That's the deal.

  Unfortunately, it also means that I have to rush to his aid every time he gets into trouble. I've told him numerous times that I won't be able to do this for the rest of his life and there's a limit to what I can do to help him. Tax fraud is a serious offense, especially on a scale as large as this. If you draw attention to yourself once, you're never above scrutiny again. I don't know why that's so hard for him to figure out. He's like an impatient kid, always feeling that he's being cheated on by everyone else.

  "Paying your taxes is not the same as having money stolen from you," I tell him for what must be the thousandth time. We're sitting in a dimly lit booth at an Italian lunch place in the city. He‘s dressed in a dark gray suit that makes him look older than he is, while I opted to wear casual attire, the same pair of jeans I wore when I was with my toy, when she had her lips wrapped around my cock. The memory makes me smile.

  "Yeah, yeah, you've mentioned that more than once, Loran," he retorts, rolling his eyes at me. We're both sipping Scotch on the rocks. I always enjoy a cold and spicy drink after a good fuck, but I don't think he's drinking for the same reason.

  "And trust me, I listened to you. I've paid my dues," my brother continues. "This isn't even about taxes, it's about a simple mistake made by my accountant. I tried to fix it the proper way, I really did. But these idiots are so fucking stubborn - it was a simple delay due to a miscalculation, causing them to dig into my assets again, something they wouldn't even have done if that delay hadn't occurred."

  "And you want me to cover for it," I say. "Again. You want me to take the rap for something you messed up."

  "No, that's not what this is," he insists. "I just want to transfer some of the assets into your name for a while, just to secure the money until this ridiculous investigation is over."

  "So, you simply want to unload the problem onto me?"

  He looks at me indignantly, even though I should be the one who's insulted by his dumb proposition.

  "That's not exactly-"

  "Yes, that's exactly what it would be," I interrupt. "Look, it was different to help your sorry ass out when you were dumb enough to gamble our family's money away-"

  "I didn't gamble the money aw-"

  "Yes, you did, and don't you fucking interrupt me, big brother," I hiss.

  He sighs and rolls his eyes at me again, but he knows I'm right. Even he knows that he depends on my help and wouldn't be the smartest idea to aggravate me any further. He crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks at me expectantly, arching his eyebrows in a way that's freakishly similar to our father's expression when he was annoyed with us. I haven't seen his face in a very long time, but I will always remember this particular look.

  "I don't know why we are even discussing this," I say. "Just pay the damn penalty and make sure your accountant doesn't fuck up again."

  He lets out an exasperated sigh. "Have you seen how much money that is?"

  I nod. "Yes. It's quite a sum."

  "Quite a sum!" he repeats. "This totally destroys our plans."

  "Your plans?"

  "Carol," he says, now in a lower voice. His voice always loses vigor when he starts talking about his wife. "She had some things planned for the house. And we wanted to buy a vacation home..."

  "That'll have to wait," I say, unimpressed.

  He huffs. "Yeah, easy for you to say, Mr. I-own-half-of-New-England."

  Our eyes meet across the table, and it's as if we're reliving the ubiquitous rivalry of our entire upbringing in that moment. I don't even blame him for any hostility he might feel towards me, because I wouldn't want to be in his skin either. My parents never expected anything from me, I never felt the same kind of pressure that he was put under from the day of his birth. They paid little attention to me, leaving me with a kind of freedom that he never got to experience. The fact that I've also been seen as the "troubled kid" my entire life and only managed to gain
their attention when I did something wrong, is an entirely different story. A story that doesn't have a bearing on him, because it's not his plight.

  "Why does a single man even need so many houses?" he asks, narrowing his eyes. "I mean, I know you're swimming in money, even compared to me or our parents, but-"

  "It's called making smart investments in real estate," I lecture. "It's a way of securing your wealth without getting in trouble with the government."

  He casts me a dark look. "Still. So many houses? And you live in half of them and aren’t even renting them out. What the fuck are you doing with them?"

  "That's none of your business," I snarl. "You’d better focus on your own shit. Do what I told you, and if your accountant keeps messing things up for you, or you feel you can only save your ass by getting in trouble with the law again, don't come crawling to me."

  I get up from my seat, a motion followed by a miffed expression on his face.

  "Oh, and I'm always happy to help you find a better accountant - or give you some advice on legal ways to manage your money," I say, before turning around and walking away from him.

  I don't have to look back to know that his angry stare is following me all the way out the door.

  Chapter 23

  Ruby

  A week and a half. More or less, I've spent the entire past ten days holed up in this basement, without internet, without TV, without any kind of entertainment or human contact except for him.

  It's no wonder that I yearn for him to come back every time he leaves the room. I hate being left alone in here because there's absolutely nothing to keep my mind occupied. I try not to sleep too much during the day, but I find myself napping constantly, wrapped in fine silk bed sheets, yet sleeping on a mattress on the floor like a prisoner. I'm wearing my bracelet now, and he hasn‘t asked me to take it off. I‘ve noticed that he's careful never to touch it or let it become tangled up in the rope or cuffs when he restrains me.