At His Word: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 6

by Delilah Fawkes

  “You are a lovely young woman, Isabeau.”

  His eyes were serious now, all trace of mirth long gone. But what was reflected there shocked me. Hunger, raw and obvious shone in his eyes. He pulled me closer, almost imperceptibly, but I could feel him hardening against me through the thin fabric of my skirt. My breath hitched as I met him, stare for stare. What was going on here?

  “Chase Drake is a complicated man,” he said, his body moving against mine to the slow rhythm of the song. “People who get close to him often seem to get hurt... I just want you to be careful.”

  “What do you mean?”

  My voice was higher than normal, but I couldn’t help it. My whole body was tensing under that stare of his, my body reacting to his touch, even though all I wanted to do was get away. But I didn’t want to create a scene in the middle of his mother’s party.

  “Has he told you about the other women he’s seen, Isabeau? About how those relationships end? How they always end?”

  I looked away, searching the crowd for a sign of Mr. Drake returning.

  “Chase isn’t the only one out there, Isabeau,” he said, drawing my eyes back to his. “He isn’t the only one who sees what kind of woman you are.”

  He pressed against me again, and I jerked back, breaking out of his grasp.

  “Excuse me, I... I need a drink.”

  I hurried off the dance floor, toward the far end of the room where dessert wine was being served. When I glanced back, Lex was still on the floor, grinning with his hands on his hips as if I were a mystery that needed solving. I took a glass of wine and raised it to my lips. The sweetness pouring over my tongue made me feel ill, and I put it back down.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Drake enter, followed closely by Veronica. He said something to her, then broke away, moving toward me.

  “I’m sorry that took so long. Are you ready to go, Isa?”

  Veronica grinned at me as if she’d won some sort of victory, but the smile faded as I took Mr. Drake’s outstretched hand in mine.

  “Please. Let’s get out of here.”

  ***

  I was quiet as we drove back to Mr. Drake’s home, my thoughts going a mile a minute. What was that on the dance floor? Was he seriously trying to seduce me, or warn me away? The way I’d felt when he’d held me made me shiver at the memory. He was handsome and charming, but it was all superficial. Something about him made my skin crawl.

  So why was I still thinking about what he’d said?

  “What are you thinking about, Isa?”

  Mr. Drake put his hand on my leg, stroking my knee with his thumb.

  “Is it my mother? The way she treated you? Because I don’t base who I see on her opinion.”

  I glanced over at him and saw his smile falter.

  “I’m sorry that happened. That she said what she did.”

  I placed my hand on his, squeezing it softly. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t expect her to like me.”

  Not when she’s already chosen Veronica to be the Future Mrs. Drake, Daughter-in-law Extraordinaire.

  “She’s set in her ways. After my father passed, she grew less tolerant of anyone not like herself.”

  He brought my hand up to his lips, kissing my palm as he drove through the night. “Besides, the only opinion I care about is yours. Will you stay with me tonight?”

  My head swam, even though I hadn’t had much to drink. But the thought of relinquishing myself into Mr. Drake’s arms, of giving up my worries to a night of passion in his embrace, was too good to pass up. I needed a break from my own thoughts. I needed to give the reins of control over, even if it was just for one night.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  ***

  His shirt hit the floor before he’d even closed the door to the dungeon. We were a tangle of bodies, me kissing every inch of him I could find as he ripped my new blouse, eager to get me naked. He finally closed the secret door, and held me at arm’s length.

  “You have been a very bad little girl, Isabeau. A very bad slave indeed.”

  I stared up at him, my eyes widening in surprise. “What? How?”

  He reached around and slapped my bottom. “For one, forgetting the rules in here. Is that any way to address your master?”

  I grinned, looking down at the floor. “No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He unzipped my skirt slowly, then slid it down off my body one inch at a time, making me step out of it. I was wearing nothing but my underwear set and heels now, and I clasped my hands in front of me, waiting for him to speak.

  “Secondly, you didn’t wear your collar today. I had to bring it to you, or you’d have forgotten it entirely. That is a grave mistake on your part.”

  He moved around me, trailing his fingers along my spine as he moved to one of his cabinets. The door creaked open as he removed a black box.

  “For that, you must be punished.”

  He opened the box in front of me, and I saw the black leather collar lying inside of it.

  “Take off the choker and put on your other collar.”

  I did as I was told. The leather was cool against my skin as I buckled it on, the feeling of it around my neck making my pussy tingle. I was his to do with as he pleased, completely at his beck and call. The thought made me moan out loud.

  “Take off your underwear. I want you naked for this.”

  I unhooked my bra and slowly removed it, sighing as the cool air made my nipples pucker. Mr. Drake stood back, watching from the shadows of the doorway, his eyes roaming over my curves. I hooked my thumbs into my panties and slid them down my legs. I stumbled a little as my heel caught in the lace, and felt my face heating with embarrassment.

  “God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed, stepping back into the light. His hand went between my legs, his fingers sliding deftly between my folds. “And already so wet. Does the thought of punishment turn you on, little slave? Are you disobeying me on purpose?”

  His other hand wrapped around my throat, his thumb caressing my skin even as he dipped a finger inside of me.

  “Yes, Sir. No, Sir.”

  “What am I to do with a slave you won’t wear her collar, hmm? Don’t you want to feel that you’re mine? To know you’re wearing my collar under everyone’s noses?”

  I gasped as he slid another finger into my wetness, making me squeeze around him.

  “Yes, Sir. I do, Sir.”

  “Then, I’ll have to make sure you’ve learned your lesson, little girl.”

  He removed his fingers, and I groaned as they slipped out of me. He brought his hands to his mouth, making me watch as he slowly sucked them between his lips, tasting my arousal. My body throbbed, so turned on, I could barely stand it. He licked his lips.

  “I love the way you taste, but do you know what I like even better?”

  I shook my head, my eyes still locked on his beautiful mouth, the corner of his lip still shining with my juices.

  “No, Sir.”

  “Spanking that little ass of yours until it’s bright red. Come with me.”

  He led me by the throat to a strange, angled block, almost like a bench, before bending me over it. My backside was straight up in the air, my heels touching the ground. My breasts pressed against the leather of the bench, my head pointing toward the floor. Mr. Drake knelt before me and secured each of my wrists in leather cuffs attached to the frame. He then walked around behind, and I tensed, unable to turn and follow him with my eyes.

  His hands were on my ankles, and soon I felt leather tightening around each of them, too, spreading my legs and binding me to this naughty piece of furniture. I couldn’t struggle, couldn’t escape--my ass was in a perfect position for him to do anything he wanted, and I couldn’t resist.

  Not that I’d want to anyway, I thought, and grinned to myself. What was my master going to do now that he had me right where he wanted me?

  “Now, I’m going to give you the spanking you deserve, and then I’m going to take this ass of yours, to drive
the lesson home. Understood?”

  He ran his thumb over my pucker, and I gasped, fear and arousal warring within me.

  “Yes... Sir.”

  He toyed with me, running his hands over my ass, kneading the flesh before tracing my back entrance with curious fingers. My core was on fire, aching for him to fill me, but at the same time, I wondered what it would feel like. Would it be like his finger, or would it hurt? Would I enjoy it?

  As if sensing my thoughts, Mr. Drake’s hands went still.

  “Has anyone taken your ass before, little slave?”

  “N-no... no, Sir.”

  There was a sound behind me like a moan, and I wondered what he was thinking.

  “Then I’ll be the first.”

  I heard him moving, then suddenly his mouth was between my cheeks, his tongue running over my slick folds before lapping at my asshole. I yelped in surprise, then groaned, as the sensation washed over me. Shame colored my cheeks at the thought of what he was doing, but then his tongue began to probe me, making my muscles relax and heat, and I didn’t care how dirty I’d once thought this was. I was a new Isabeau, after all. A wild woman who did things she’d never thought she could do.

  And this new Isabeau wanted more.

  Mr. Drake’s hot mouth left me, the cold air making me tense again at his absence.

  “You’ll get 30 for your misbehavior, and then I’ll take that tight, virgin ass of yours. Now, count them off.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said, breathless at the thought.

  “If you miss a number, I’ll start over.”

  I could practically hear the grin in his voice, knowing that he had me like this, totally in his control, my body squirming and ready beneath him. His hand came down hard, the smack reverberating throughout the dungeon.

  “One,” I gasped, the sting making my eyes water.

  His hand came down again on the other cheek, the bite of pain making my arousal leak onto my thighs.

  “Two!”

  If I closed my eyes, I could still imagine his mouth on me, licking my most intimate places...

  Another slap, then another. “Three... Four!”

  He hit the same spots now, the impact of his hand driving the sharp sting deeper into me, my body coming alive beneath the onslaught.

  “Five... uhhh... Six!”

  He went faster, as if trying to trip me up, spanking my cheeks one after the other, harder and faster. I felt the pain melting into something intoxicating, my pussy throbbing along with each smack. I cried out the numbers again and again, feeling like I was on the edge of pleasure from just this, the simple surrender of this one act.

  When I called “Thirty!” out, I was out of breath, my body glowing with delicious pain, even as I lay, bound and ready for what was to come.

  I heard a bottle cap open, and jumped against my restraints when cool gel hit my pucker. Mr. Drake smoothed the lubricant around the outside of my hole before dipping a finger past the tight ring of muscle. I groaned, my ass stinging where his hand rested against it.

  “I hope you’ve learned what it is to be mine, little slave. I hope that spanking drove it home for you, but just in case... I’m going to fuck the lesson into you as well.”

  I was panting now, his finger torturing me as he moved it achingly slow, in and out, in and out, pushing further into my ass each time. He added a second finger, and I felt the stretch, my body protesting at first, then squeezing around him as he readied me. I needed him. Needed to be filled, to be owned. To be satisfied.

  “Now, little slave. Take me inside of you. Take it all in...”

  I bit my lip as I felt the tip of his thick cock press against my opening. My arms tightened against the leather cuffs, wanting to reach back and stroke him, or at least see what was happening. But I was totally helpless. Totally his.

  “Relax, baby,” he whispered. “Relax, and push out.”

  I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly, willing myself to relax as I did so. I pushed out like he instructed, and whimpered as the head of his shaft slipped inside of me. A twinge of pain ran through me, my ass feeling like a fiery ring stretching around him.

  “Shhh,” he said, stroking my back. “You’ll adjust.”

  I focused on my breathing, my breasts heaving against the leather. A tingle started then, overriding the discomfort, melting it into something new and utterly sensual. I felt my body accepting him into me, and he pushed a little, working himself in one inch, then stopping, letting me get used to the feeling. The pain was turning itself inside out, becoming pleasure, and I was singularly focused on the sensation of him filling me up in a way no one had before. I was aware of each twinge of feeling, each tiny movement of his body in mine.

  He eased back, and I gasped, this time at the delicious friction. His shaft inched its way back into me, teasing me slowly as I relaxed around it. A tear rolled down my face, but not from pain. He was driving me insane, when all I wanted him to do was drive into me and make me come apart.

  “That’s it. Good girl. That’s my good girl. Fuck, you are so tight...”

  He gripped my ass, his touch on my tender cheeks making me moan. He pushed into me again, but this time didn’t stop, burying himself balls-deep inside of my ass. He groaned loudly behind me, squeezing me tightly, and I knew he was as excited as I was.

  “Please,” I begged.

  “What’s that, slave? Please what?”

  His hand came down on my ass with a smack, and he began pulling out inch by inch.

  “Please! Please fuck me, Sir.”

  There was a hiss of breath, and then he thrust back into me, making my whole body burn.

  “Please fuck you? You want me to fuck your little ass?”

  He gripped my hips hard, his fingers biting into my skin, and began pistoning in and out, moving agonizingly slowly as he pulled back a few inches, then rammed home again.

  “Yes! Oh, God, yes, Sir. Yes, please, Sir...”

  I wanted to claw at the bench, to push back against him, but I was held fast. I could only wait... and feel.

  “Don’t say I’m not good to you,” he said as he picked up the pace.

  The feeling of his thick cock stretching me, rubbing me from the inside out, stuffing me fuller than I’d ever experienced was driving me to the edge, but I couldn’t quite get there. I was all wanting, with no way to get what I needed. I drove my clit forward, hoping it would bump the bench, but the angle of the contraption made it impossible.

  His hand came down on my ass again, making me cry out. “I’m the one who decides when you cum, little slave. Trust your master.”

  I moaned as he drove into me harder, his hands spreading me open to him so he could hit me even deeper. My nipples scraped against the bench, my body a symphony of nerve endings firing all at once. Then, his hand was beneath me, lifting my hips, his rough finger finding my greedy nub.

  He fucked me harder, his finger pad rubbing me with each thrust of his hips. I was gasping, my ass squeezing around him in time with the electric jolts of pleasure he was drawing out of me with each stroke of his hand.

  “Cum for me now, Isa. Cum for me hard.”

  I screamed, giving myself over to what had been slowly building inside of me since we burst through that door. My legs stiffened, my ankles pulling at the restraints as my body convulsed, my ass milking him even as he kept thrusting, pushing himself inside of me again and again and again. I rode his hand, my back arching even as my fists balled beneath me, my fingernails cutting into my palms.

  “Oh, God... Isa...” he said hoarsely above me.

  He smacked my ass one last time, and then drove himself into me, tensing as he held himself still. I felt him cum inside of me, his shaft twitching as I trembled around him, still reeling from the power of my orgasm. His fingers brushed over me again and again, until finally, I went limp against the bench, spent and sweaty and unable to take any more.

  His hand pulled away, and then he was gently backing out of me, the tip of his cock mak
ing me groan as it stretched me one last time before slipping past the rim. I lay there, sleepiness threatening to spirit me away while I heard the sounds of Mr. Drake washing up in a dark alcove at the side of the room.

  A warm, soft washcloth ran gently over my body, cleansing me from behind. I sighed as he worked, carefully washing my folds and cheeks, before finally patting me down with a soft towel. Then, he was kneeling before me, undoing the cuffs from my wrists, and I realized I could stand.

  He helped me up, and I stood, feeling limp and boneless from our lovemaking. He kissed me gently, cupping my face in his hands.

  “Come to bed with me?”

  I nodded, and kissed him back, losing myself in the simplicity of being with him, here, like this, away from prying eyes and disapproving mothers. Away from the too-expensive collar and the staff waiting to drive him wherever he wished. Just here. Just us.

  He carried me up the stairs to his room like he hadn’t just exhausted himself, then lay me in his bed before climbing in beside me. I snuggled into him as he wrapped his arms around me, noticing with a smile how I seemed to fit so perfectly into that space between his pec and his shoulder. Like it was made just for me.

  But when the lights went out, I stayed awake, staring out at the city lights, far below the bedroom windows. Did I fit into any other aspect of Chase Drake’s life, or was it just my own foolish hopes that kept me coming here? Did I fit into that party tonight, or, worse, into that long line of brokenhearted women Lex warned me about?

  Did I fit that spot, or was I just as out of place as I felt when I stood next to him in those borrowed clothes?

  And if I didn’t, what did that mean for Chase Drake and I?

  ***

  To Be Continued…

  The next installment of “The Billionaire’s Beck and Call” Series by Delilah Fawkes is coming soon!

  ***

  Don’t miss the other parts of this sizzling series, available now!

  At His Service: The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 1