“That’s fine.” What was she supposed to say? “I can wait for you here.”
“I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” Henry got up and went to the bathroom while Monica stretched and admired the view outside. Not too much, since she was dressed in her underwear and hadn’t brought a robe. When Henry emerged dressed in a casual suit, he plopped a box on the unmade bed. “Open it.”
Monica hopped onto bed and brought the box toward her. Inside was a lacy purple negligee that looked like it would barely cover her. It’s lovely. It wasn’t red or black, but it was a healthy mix of the two. Monica hardly wore enough purple, when she thought about it.
“Put it on.”
Henry was fastening his cufflinks and applying cologne. I guess he wants me to model at seven in the morning. Monica obliged, pulling the lingerie over her torso and letting the lace settle on her breasts and around her hips. It fit just right.
“Good to know I guessed your size correctly. Never know how that’s going to turn out.” Henry rounded the bed and drew her into a kiss. “You’re beautiful. The perfect gown to wear to our ball today.”
“Ball?”
“A ball for you and me. I’m so smitten with you that I plan to keep you entirely to myself today.” He squeezed her, hand roaming toward her rear. “I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of, but you’re to stay in here, all right? And keep this lovely thing on for when I get back.”
Then will we make proper love? Monica remained still as he kissed and nipped her bottom lip. “I will.”
“That’s an order.” His stern voice was authoritative enough to make Monica shiver. “I’m going to have breakfast downstairs with a colleague. I’ll make sure some is sent up for you. Use the bedroom and bathroom as you please.”
“And the den?” Monica asked, gesturing to the room they watched movies in last night.
Henry released her and stepped away. “I don’t think so. I want you to stay in here and think about what you’ve done.”
“What have I done?”
He stopped shy of the door. “Stolen my heart. You’ll be disciplined for that indiscretion later.”
Before Monica could bid him farewell again, he slipped into the main hallway. And locked the door behind him.
Locked?
Monica tested the door for herself. Even when she turned the lock on her side of the door, nothing happened. He locked me in here! Heart racing, Monica went to the bathroom door and found it opened with no resistance. The drawing room door, on the other hand, was as stubborn as the main door leading to the hallway.
Monica sank on the edge of the bed, a terrifying image entering her mind.
He tied me to the bed and locked me in our room for a whole day. Twenty-four hours. For twenty-four hours Monica was trapped like a prisoner in her own bedroom. What could have been a hot dalliance in power and control had left Monica strained, bruised from her binds, and on the verge of tears because she had never felt so used. And not in the good way.
Henry didn’t know any of that. In his mind, this was business as usual with a sub.
Calm down, dumbass. Monica pulled her legs up on the bed, folding them until she was in a meditative position. After a few deep breaths she managed to settle her nerves and remind herself that Henry was not Jackson. He was playing games. They were in a scene. Monica wasn’t confined to a bed for almost twenty-four hours, left to cry in her pillow while her arms hung painfully above her and her bladder screamed for relief. There was nothing fun or pleasurable in that. Maybe some subs got off on that, but the problem was…
By that point, Monica no longer trusted Jackson.
The kind of relationship Monica wanted with a Dom could not be achieved without a high level of trust. It wasn’t possible. A sub who couldn’t trust her Dom was one of the lowest things on Earth. Monica swore she would never go back to something like that.
Breakfast was delivered by a servant about twenty minutes later. That was Monica’s chance to escape if she wanted to. The fact I’m even thinking about it… She once again had to regroup and remind herself that Henry was not Jackson. If anything, he was simply ignorant to the extent of the hell Monica had been through only a year ago.
So when the servant bowed to her and then stepped out again, Monica did not panic when she heard the door lock again. Nor did she feel ashamed that such a person saw her in a sexy piece of lingerie. Brand new lingerie, insinuating that it had recently been given to her. In a mussed bed, no less.
Monica was used to nonplussed help. Yet how many women had they seen in a similar position in Master Henry’s suite?
She ate her breakfast and left the tray sitting on the dresser. After a quick trip to the bathroom, Monica curled back into bed, this time bringing Henry’s pillow to her nose and inhaling as if she would never again have the chance to revel in his scent.
Such a moment was brought to an end after Monica dozed off and slept for who knew how long. When she awoke, it was to the sound of someone unlocking the bedroom door and helping himself in.
“You fell asleep?” Henry shut the door behind him. He glanced at the empty breakfast tray and clicked his tongue. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re taking advantage of me.”
I should tell him. Tell him about that horrible experience she had at the hands of her ex. On the flipside, Monica wanted to see how their scene played out. I still want him after all. Henry, standing straight in his business suit and a clean shave. Monica pined for him like she had pined for him during their time apart. “I’m not, sir. I was sleepy.”
She pushed herself up and knelt on her legs upon the bed, hands in her lap while Henry stepped forward and looked her up and down. “Well, if you were sleeping, then you didn’t think about what I told you to think about. How can you ask me to forgive your indiscretions if you didn’t even bother?”
What should I say? On one hand, Monica did not want to displease him. On the other? Discipline was one of her favorite words. “How was your meeting, sir?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Henry took her wrist and brought her hand up to his cheek. His face was dangerously close to hers, as if he would plant his lips right on her – but he didn’t. “I spent my whole meeting thinking of you. Thinking of your mouth on my cock yesterday. Did you like that?”
“Of course, Mr. Warren.”
“I bet you wanted something a bit… more, though. Tell me, how badly did you want me to fuck you?”
“Badly.”
Henry stepped back, although his eyes never left her form. Monica leaned back enough to push her chest up in his direction. Come on my breasts for all I care. She was beginning to starve for his attention. Just according to plan, probably.
“No, I don’t think so.” Henry backed away. “I don’t think you really want me that badly.”
“Of course I do!”
Henry opened one of the dresser drawers and pulled out a silk restraint. “You say that, but I have yet to see you really writhe in need.”
“Tell me what to do. I’m yours to command, sir.”
“I told you what I wanted you to do.” Henry pushed her onto the bed, her head hitting his pillow while he pressed her wrist against the headboard and tied it there. He did not reach for the other one. “I want you to think about your indiscretions. You’ve been a terrible, wicked woman, Monica. Lie here and think about what you have done. I have another meeting to go to.”
He’s not… The man was. He was going to restrain her to the bed and then leave her locked up in this room until he felt like playing with her again. Monica yanked against the restraint, her arm pulling and her teeth chomping down on her lip.
“Are you all right?”
It was that soft, kind voice of Henry’s that Monica hadn’t heard in a few hours. She opened her eyes and saw Henry looming over her, his hand on her abdomen and his eyes large enough to swallow her whole.
Monica stopped writhing – not that it was the w
rithing Henry sought anyway. “I’m… fine.” She forgot the words she owed her Dom. “It’s just…” Her history. Her fears. Her ex-boyfriend who tried something like this and never gave her a payoff.
Henry didn’t untie her, but he sat on the bed next to her and caressed her cheek with smooth fingers. “Do you trust me?”
He wasn’t judgmental. He was, however, firm in the way he gripped her shoulder and eased her back into his pillow. He still wants me to obey. Monica’s safe word flashed in front of her eyes. She could say it. If she said it, this would all be over. The scene would end, and Henry would either send her home to her Château or unlock that door to let her roam free. And I would feel awful. Monica knew that she would never forgive herself if she didn’t see this scene through.
“I trust you, Henry,” she said, hoping that he would bend down and kiss her.
He did. His lips, warm and soft, tended to her romantic needs, his hand wrapping around her breast while his tongue snaked into her mouth and down her throat. He won’t hurt me. Monica had to believe it. She couldn’t live the rest of her life assuming that every billionaire who tied her to his bedposts was going to leave her to her own misery.
“You’ll be back soon, right?”
“I will be back. Before you’re missed by the rest of the household.” Before Monica could express her relief, he continued, “And sometime later we’ll talk about why you’re so nervous right now.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Pleasure suddenly jolted through her as he lowered one side of her negligee and squeezed her bare breast. “You shouldn’t be. Once I think you’re sufficiently ready… I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
He kissed her once more before sitting up, his hand wrapping around her thigh and prying her legs apart. “I won’t tell you when I’ll be back. In truth, I don’t know how long this next meeting will take anyway. When I do come back, you better be ready for me. I expect my girl to always be ready for me.”
Monica blinked away the dust from her eyes. “Yes, sir.” She had a free hand. She knew what to do. All I care about is that he won’t do what Jackson did.
“I don’t know what you’re thinking about right now.” Henry rubbed her bent knee before stepping toward the end of the bed. “But you don’t have anything to fear from me. I care about your pleasure. I also care about your discipline. You understand that you have to be disciplined?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. When I get back, I want to see you ready to be disciplined.”
He left, the door latching behind him once again. Monica exhaled a heavy breath and looked at the ceiling, her arm still tied behind her head and her mind full of conflicting thoughts.
Did she really trust Henry? In truth, she barely knew the man. They met a handful of times, had sex once, not counting the head the day before, and now were testing boundaries like they had been together for months. How stupid I am. Monica was too easy to trust. Too easy to get into relationships. What happened the last time she hopped into a relationship? I got caught up in Jackson’s world for almost ten years. A naïve college graduate who wanted to explore the world of BDSM more. I liked the taste I got with my first boyfriend. When Jackson offered her more? On a scale she could have never imagined? Riches beyond human comprehension? Every trick in the book? How could Monica say no back then?
So why wasn’t she saying no right now?
She lay there, for a few minutes, for a half hour, thinking about her lot in this relationship. This was what she thought she wanted. To serve. To submit. To be used once in a while. The idea of a man controlling half her life, taking charge and taking care of her, was all she cared about at the end of the day. She wanted him – whoever him was – to coddle her, to make love to her, to make her feel like the most wanted woman in the world. In return? I’ll make him feel like a king. There were many simple pleasures in life. There were also many extravagant pleasures. Monica wanted a healthy dose of both, and making a well-to-do man feel like that was a good representation. Just get through today.
Sexual pleasure. Flashbacks. Monica shouldn’t push her own boundaries and conflate the two, but here she was, tied up in Henry Warren’s bed waiting for him to do God knew what.
Monica imagined him pushing her down again, using her body for his own whims, and whispering into her ear what a filthy woman she was. Even without him touching her, Monica’s skin tingled at the thought of him spanking her, fingering her, and bringing her down onto his cock with promised relief. Sometimes she imagined him wearing that suit, his buttons undone but that material hugging his form with a hint of the forbidden fruit he carried for a sub like her. “Behave, and I’ll reward you.” Other times he was naked, his strong body steady as he pulled apart her legs and drove his cock into her. “My princess.”
She certainly felt like one. A princess locked away in a king’s tower, ready to be claimed by him. There was no queen in the castle yet, but if Monica pleased His Majesty, she may see a change in her fate yet.
Her hand hovered around her thigh. Without any idea of when Henry would return, Monica pressed her fingers against her slit and moaned into the pillow.
“What a beautiful sight for these sore eyes.” Henry’s voice wafted into Monica’s ear ten minutes later. “Not every man gets to come into his bedroom and see a lovely woman touch herself in anticipation of him.”
Monica said nothing, but she opened her eyes, gazing into Henry’s as he stood above her.
“You look… quite ready.” Henry’s hand hooked beneath her knee and lifted her leg into the air. Monica gasped, her slit open and bare to the cool bedroom air. I think I might be a bit wet. And now with Henry touching her again? His pants straining against a slight bulge between his legs and mere inches away from Monica’s face? It’s getting worse. A shudder ripped through her as Henry tapped his fingers against her thigh. Her arousal burst from her, caressing her skin and dipping into her most forbidden regions. “Yet what are you ready for?”
Monica bit her lip. “For you, Mr. Warren.”
She didn’t ask for much. Just for him to climb onto the bed, unzip his pants, and give it to her. Was that too much? This long game was killing her. “You think you’re ready, but have you thought about what a temptress you are? I think you’re doing all of this to keep me from going to my final meeting today.”
How many meetings did this man have? Too many! But he proved that he would come back. Keep coming back, again and again, if only to taunt her. “I’m sorry for tempting you, sir. I can’t control it.”
A blissful shot of pain shot through her body as he smacked the side of her ass. “Find a way to control it. I forbid you from coming until I tell you to. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If you come before me today, I won’t forgive it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Close your eyes. I have a present for you for being so patient.”
The world went dark as Monica did as told. Henry rolled her hips over and gave her ass another light smack. She hissed, a tiny whimper escaping her lips. Henry must not have heard it, for he did not chastise her.
“Keep your eyes closed.”
Something warm dripped onto her rear.
It took her a bit to recognize what it was. Wet, slick, and heading right for where she puckered most. Is he…? Monica wanted to open her eyes but did not dare. Not even when Henry opened and closed a drawer next to her head and pressed something hard against her ass.
“You know what this is?”
Before she could say anything, her body released more of her arousal, drenching the plug.
“Of course you do. It’s a small one, don’t worry. I haven’t assumed anything.” The tip of the plug pushed slowly into her, stretching her tender muscles and making her groan in both discomfort and ease. “You have such a lovely ass, Monica.” His other hand rubbed it, those strokes opening her up a little wider as the plug slipped into her body. I h
aven’t done this in so long. Her body almost resisted it. Yet between the lube and her own wetness, Monica would lose that battle if she chose to fight it. “One of these days I’ll have to take it for myself. Not today. This is fine for now, right?”
A sigh escaped her. The free hand she was allowed rested on her stomach, her hips wiggling beneath Henry’s touch. “Yes, sir.”
“I’m glad. Now, I have a very important job for you, Monica.” Henry stood and opened another drawer. Within moments he had another silk tie wrapping around her eyes to blindfold her, and yet another bind bringing her free wrist up to her confined one. If that wasn’t maddening enough, Henry then pulled apart her legs, lingerie bunched around her waist, and hogtied her calves to her thighs at a stark angle.
Monica felt like she was ready to be served to her king.
“Your job is to lie like this for a bit longer. From now on you’re not just my princess, but my doll. When I’m down there talking to someone, I’ll be thinking of you up here, tied up like this and waiting for me to come take care of you. The best part will be knowing I can do whatever I want to you, because you’ll be begging for me to put an end to your carnal misery.”
She was already there. “Yes, sir.” Monica contracted around the plug, and it sent a wave of undeniable desire through her, striking her right in the loins before shooting to her breasts and throat. An inaudible gasp wracked her.
“What if I told you that you’re not to come once while I’m gone? I’ll know if you do. And if you do, I won’t give you anything at all. You have to earn your reward. Now, I will ask you if you understand, and after that, you’re not to say another word until I give you permission later. Do you understand all of this?”
“Yes, Mr. Warren.”
That was it. The last thing she was allowed to say.
Monica took that seriously. Even after he left, she didn’t say a word as she lay in Henry’s bed, tied to herself and his furniture. It was uncomfortable, but only physically. She could think past the cramped muscles and the strained limits. After all, Henry was testing her as much as she was testing him. He wanted to know how far he could push her… and Monica wanted to know how he would react when she decided she had been pushed too far.
Caught: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (His Domination Book 2) Page 4