Taken by the Pirate Billionaire

by Shelli Stevens

  “Eventually, you do.” She sucked him through the cotton, and his cock strained against the boxers. When she lifted her head, she asked, “Would you let me tie you up?”

  “You want to tie me up?” His fingers tightened in her hair.

  “Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

  “Sweetheart, you can do anything you want.”

  Renee stood up. Well, that had been easy enough.

  She looked around for her purse, and then remembered she’d left it outside.

  “Give me a second.” She winked. “I came prepared.”

  When she returned a moment later Devon—now naked—was reclining on the bed, watching her approach with a lazy look in his eyes.

  Lazy? Or were the drugs already kicking in? She’d have to work fast.

  “Scarves,” she announced, producing the various colors of silk from her purse. “And I promise this won’t hurt a bit. That is unless you want it to.”

  Devon smiled, baring teeth this time as she went to work tying him down. First she secured each of his wrists to the wrought iron headboard of the bed. Next, she tied each of his ankles to the bedposts at the foot of the bed.

  Renee sat back on her heels to admire her handiwork.

  There, that should do. She eyed the result with satisfaction. Now she was in complete control.

  Devon kept his breathing even as he watched her steadily, waiting to see what she’d do next. He suspected it was more than sex, though hoped it wouldn’t completely eliminate the potential for it.

  “So this fantasy thing,” she began, trailing a finger through the patch of curls on his chest. “I’ve heard that rumor about you being descended from a pirate. Is it true?”

  What the hell? That was not at all what he’d expected her to say.

  “Reading the tabloids, are you?”

  Her eyebrows drew together and her lips thinned. “It’s not just the tabloids.”

  “So you have a pirate fantasy? Is that it?” He quirked an eyebrow. “If getting tied up and ravished is on your bucket list, you’re doing it wrong. And you could have warned me so I could at least find my eye patch.”

  Her scowl deepened. “I just was curious if there was any truth to it. Because it would be kind of hot if you were.”

  He gave a brief smile. “I really have no idea. My concern is with the present, not the past.”

  She stared at him, not seeming pleased with his reply. She leaned forward and drew her tongue across his taut stomach and his abs clenched.

  “So no super cool gold bars, or fabulous jewelry passed down in the family then?”

  What was this? An interrogation?

  “No.”

  She moved her mouth lower and he struggled not to groan. On second thought, if this was an interrogation, she could keep at it.

  “No cool emerald necklace, gold rings, or, ruby brooch?”

  “Sweetheart, I don’t own any jewelry,” he drawled, emphasizing the word jewelry with as much derision as if she’d asked if he owned a bra.

  Her jaw clenched. “Oh come on now...”

  She trailed kisses down the rest of his abdomen until she reached the top of his cock. She kissed his thigh.

  Unwittingly, his hips arched against her mouth. The flimsy scarves held him down a bit, though.

  “I’d show you the crown jewels if I had them. But seeing as I don’t, you’re just going to have to settle for the family ones.”

  She glanced up at him from where she lay between his legs. “You’re looking a little tired, Devon, are you feeling okay?”

  He watched her through half-mast. “There are ways to wake me up.”

  “Hmm. Duly noted,” she said, before her mouth closed over the head of his erection.

  Devon groaned, and his head dropped back against the pillows as he did exactly what she asked.

  Pleasure slammed through him as she licked and sucked at him, before taking him deep into her throat. Her tongue continued to stroke the underside of his cock, rubbing against every damn sensitive spot he had.

  Being tied up was a novelty. This was a complete roll reversal.

  “Take off your dress and let me look at you.”

  She ignored him, pleasuring him without mercy. Not that he wanted any. His abs contracted and he knew he was getting close. Maybe she did too, because she backed off and lifted her head.

  “Do you like me being in charge?” She pushed her dress up over her hips and straddled him.

  “Currently undecided,” he replied tightly. “Ask me again in a fifteen minutes.”

  She wasn’t wearing any panties, and he knew if he flexed his hips there was a good chance he’d almost enter her.

  Shit. Almost wasn’t good enough.

  “What is it you want, Renee?”

  “You know what I want.”

  He gave a slow smile. “Well then bring your pretty pussy to my mouth, sweetheart, and I’ll give it to you.”

  Her cheeks flamed and her mouth flapped. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She definitely wanted it, by the small little moan she made.

  “I want to suck on your tits,” he commanded. “Come up here, sweetheart. Now.”

  His words were shocking and pretty much on the vulgar side, and yet Renee eased up his body anyway until her breast was above his mouth.

  He parted his lips and sucked her inside, sending pleasure rocketing through her.

  Why was she obeying him? Wasn’t she supposed to be in charge?

  Maybe. Maybe not.

  Her breathing grew heavy as his tongue flicked the tip of her nipple. She glanced down and met his cocky gaze, and felt the first stirring of unease.

  He seemed awfully alert for someone who had drunk wine laced with sleeping pills.

  She tried to pull away, but his teeth closed tighter around her flesh. Everything started to spin as pleasure assailed her. Even with him tied down, she felt her control of the situation slipping away.

  With a laugh he released her nipple and stared up at her.

  “Just admit you’re a pirate,” she whispered and lowered herself a bit so the tip of him slipped just inside her body.

  Bad, Renee, he needs to wear a condom.

  She had to close her eyes for a moment, savor the sensation of just having him barely inside her. When she tried to open her eyes again she realized it took more effort.

  Devon watched her, the pleasure was gone from his narrowed eyes and his smile seemed awfully cold.

  “How are you feeling, Miss Hawkins?”

  “How am I feeling?” she repeated, shaking her head trying to clear it from its sudden fog. “What do you mean how am I feeling, how are you feeling?”

  Renee slid off of his body and staggered to her feet. God, what was going on with her? She could barely form a sentence.

  “You look a little tired, Renee, are you feeling all right?” Devon threw her own words back at her.

  Oh fuck. She went numb. “You switched wines?”

  He didn’t answer, but his silence confirmed her guess.

  “Dammit, there were two pills,” she mumbled.

  He frowned. “Two pills? That’s a bit irresponsible of you, wasn’t it? What were you thi—”

  “No lectures, asshole.” Two pills may not have much effect on someone his size, but it would knock her out and hard. No wonder she felt so sluggish.

  How much time did she have? How long ago had she drank it? She grabbed her purse and stumbled towards the door. At least Devon was tied up. That’d give her a few minutes.

  “I really don’t think you should drive, sweetheart.”

  Renee gave him the finger, though it might’ve been a more of a thumb’s up, as she ran out of his room and down the hall.

  Now that she knew she’d been the one drugged, her mind did the whole psychological bit and she started to feel more out of it.

  She pulled open the front door and hurried out, tripping on her own feet.

 
She shook her head, trying to clear the muddiness as she swung open the door to her car. If she could only drive a few blocks, pull off into an alley or something.

  Get the hell away from here.

  Renee dug into her purse for her keys and came up empty.

  “Shit.” She tried to keep her eyes open. It felt as if there were ten-pound weights on each eyelid. “Where the hell are my keys?”

  He’d taken them out of her purse. Probably had known she’d try and run.

  She rolled her head to the left and saw the front door swing open. It must have been an illusion—Devon striding across the yard toward her. It couldn’t be him, because he was tied up still.

  God, it was so hard to not shut her eyes. She just needed to close them for a second.

  Just for one little...

  Chapter Eleven

  How much did she drink last night?

  Renee groaned, struggling to surface from the grogginess. She reached a hand up to rub her forehead, but her wrist only went so far. She opened her eyes and stared into blackness.

  Her throat locked and she flailed, trying to move her arms and legs. Panic sliced through her as she remembered all the little details before everything had gone to black.

  And now, she was clearly restrained in some kind of fur-lined bondage. Her legs were spread-eagled, and her arms were tied to each side of the bedpost.

  An alarmed whimper escaped her dry mouth.

  “Ah, sweetheart, you’re awake.”

  Renee turned towards the sound of his voice. “Untie me.”

  “It’s not really a matter of tying, sweetheart. I’ve used other methods.”

  Her pulse jumped. “Take off the blindfold.”

  “Not just yet.” His footsteps moved across the room towards her and she jerked again at the straps, desperate to free herself.

  “Release me, Devon,” she begged. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Was it funny when you put pills in my wine and then tied me up?”

  She drew her lip between her teeth and whispered, “That was different. I wasn’t going to hurt you.”

  “Is that what you’re worried about, Renee? That I’m going to hurt you?”

  Something soft tickled across her breasts until her nipples hardened.

  “I love it when they do that.” Devon circled what must have been a feather over the taut peaks. “You really have the prettiest nipples.”

  Renee gave a frustrated cry, trying not to feel anything except the need to get away, but she struggled with every trace of the feather.

  The feather moved down around her belly button, and then lightly over the cleft in between her legs.

  “And tell me, sweetheart, why are you so curious about my ancestors? And jewelry that I may or may not own?”

  She closed her mouth, refusing to say anything more as his tongue dipped into her belly button.

  “Not going to talk, are you? There’s ways to make you talk, Renee.”

  “Really? That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?” She gave a harsh laugh that turned into a gasp as his tongue stroked wet and warm between her legs.

  “No more cliché than when you did it to me. How quickly you forget.” He gave a low, sensual laugh. “Besides, maybe I just enjoy tasting you.”

  She moaned as he did just that again.

  Being blindfolded made his every touch even more stimulating and exciting. She tried to close her thighs to his probing tongue, but the restraints prevented her.

  Then his tongue retreated—to her surprising disappointment—and the bed sunk down. She could feel Devon’s body heat next to her.

  He traced a finger between her legs. “Your body knows me now, Renee. It responds to my touch so quickly.”

  Renee groaned, the combination of his words and his touch almost undoing her.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Which form of release do you beg for now, I wonder?” Lazy amusement tinged his words.

  “From these straps. Whatever they are.” Okay, that was a bit of a lie. Right now she wanted to come so badly her body was literally shaking from it.

  He pressed a finger slowly inside her, and she expelled her breath on a ragged sigh.

  “Is that why you crashed my party? To steal something I don’t even own?”

  “You own it,” she whispered, drugged by lust now, “you have to.”

  “I want you to tell me exactly why you’re so concerned about my family history and our belongings.”

  She shook her head and pulled at her restraints, but she quickly went still as he pulled his finger from her sheath, up the crevice of her bottom, circling the tiny hole there.

  “Renee?”

  She couldn’t answer as he pushed the finger, coated with her juices, into her. He moved the finger deeper into her ass and she felt his breath between her legs. Then, before she could protest, he started licking her again.

  Renee squirmed against her restraints, completely helpless to his seductive invasion.

  “Answer me, Renee.”

  His tongue moved onto her clitoris and she gave a strangled cry. He circled the bud until she moaned out in frustration.

  “Tell me,” he asked again, between licks.

  God, she would have been a terrible spy.

  “You have a brooch that belonged to my ancestor.” She gasped, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow. “It was stolen by one of your ancestors who was a pirate. Now either release me, or give me an orgasm!”

  The silence that followed made her think that he was either shocked by her news, or figuring out another way to lie to her. She wished she could see his face.

  “Darren Murray stole from your family?” He sounded intrigued, but not necessarily guilty.

  She made a sound of triumph, momentarily forgetting her arousal. “I knew you descended from him!”

  “I never said I wasn’t.”

  “And you’re as notorious as him.” Could she sound anymore childish? She knew it was only brought on by embarrassment and sexual frustration.

  “Yes, I suppose I am,” he murmured. “And my poor Renee is very aggravated. Is there something I can do for you, sweetheart?”

  “You are such an asshole.” She jerked against her restraints again. “And I’m not yours.”

  “Aren’t you?” he asked softly, before he buried his tongue in her.

  She was screaming, lifting her hips as much as she could to meet his mouth. He began sucking on her clit and thrusting his fingers inside her.

  She came so hard she was sobbing and limp on the bed. Before she could recover Devon’s cock was inside her, and he thrust to the hilt. She couldn’t do anything but lie there and take him, feeling him stretching her, filling her.

  “Yes. You are mine.” His mouth covered hers, silencing her denials. His tongue delved past her teeth to find hers.

  Renee melted against him, knowing he was right. Somewhere along the way everything had changed. This went so much deeper than just casual sex. No other man had ever made her feel like this—she doubted any other would ever be able to do so.

  She was tied up, blindfolded, and being ravished just as he’d teased her about, and she loved all of it and craved more. But she’d never admit that to him.

  Instead she kissed him back, taking control with the only part of her body she was allowed to use. She curled her tongue around his, sucking hard and tasting herself.

  Devon’s thrusts became faster and harder, causing her body to jerk against her restraints. The continuous pressure of his pelvis against her clitoris brought her to climax again. Lights flashed in her head and her heart galloped with adrenaline. She moaned as he buried himself deep and stayed there.

  He groaned as he came, before collapsing to rest on top of her, nuzzling her neck and whispering her name.

  Chapter Twelve

  Devon removed the restraints and blindfold a few minutes later and then lay down beside her. Although Renee hadn’t been in them very long, she made a big show o
f rubbing her wrists.

  He hid a smile. She’d enjoyed the experience, despite what she’d otherwise say. He was also relieved to find out that she wasn’t some nosy reporter or perhaps someone with even more cynical intentions.

  No, his adorable Renee had only been out to avenge a centuries old robbery. Not that he was convinced her story was real. Although it could have been—supposedly Darren Murray had been a really corrupt bastard.

  “How did you untie yourself from the bed?” she asked.

  “Tying knots isn’t your forte. But I have a book on bondage if you’d like to borrow it.”

  She flushed. “I’ll pass. So, what happens now?”

  Her question surprised him, and he glanced over to find her relaxed and reclined on the pillows with an arm behind her head. All she needed was a cigarette, she looked that content.

  He raised an eyebrow in a silent request for her to elaborate.

  “Are you going to call the police on me?” She crossed one ankle over another.

  “Of course not.” Devon did laugh now. “Besides, what would I tell them, sweetheart? That you have a hair up your butt over a brooch that may or may not exist?”

  Her eyes narrowed as she watched him. “It does exist. I have an antique diary that describes it and points a finger at your ancestor for having taken it.”

  “Really? Now that is intriguing. Do you have the diary on you?”

  “No, do I look stupid?”

  He gave a lazy smile. “You tried to drug me. Do you really want me to answer that?”

  Renee stared at him for a moment, before she dropped her gaze. “Why do you have sex parties?”

  The change of subject didn’t surprise him as much as the question itself.

  “It started as an experiment back in college. A few friends and I had a gothic themed party that ended up with pretty serious sexual undertones.”

  “You, gothic?” She arched a brow. “I can’t imagine.”

  He went on without acknowledging her sarcasm. “The party was quite a hit, so we continued to have one annually. Eventually I left college and returned home to the estate. But I saw no reason to not continue the parties. It’s a once a year opportunity for all fantasies to come to life. All inhibitions to be dropped. I’m discreet about who I invite, and the whole affair is very covert.”