The Dom's Virgin: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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The Dom's Virgin: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 13

by Penelope Bloom


  “You’re going to just have to trust your dom. Trust that I know what you’ll enjoy.”

  She smiles down at her lap and her cheeks redden. “There might be some truth to that. Hey, Jackson, can I tell you something?” she asks.

  I turn toward her, frowning at the tone in her voice. She sounds afraid, like whatever she might say will upset me. Whatever it is, I don’t want it to ruin tonight for her though, so I shake my head. “Not unless your dom asks to hear it,” I say.

  “I’m serious, Jackson, there’s something--”

  “I’m serious too. You can tell me after tonight. Tell me before then, and we’ll have to leave early so I can take you home and punish you.”

  She smiles, but it’s not an entirely genuine smile. My stomach twists a little when I wonder what she could be holding in that head of hers. What could frighten her so much to tell me?

  We arrive at the convention center a little after six. I help Brianne out of the car and toss my keys to the valet. “Is this a writer’s convention?” she asks.

  “Something like that,” I say.

  Well dressed men and women file in through the main entrance of the convention center. I lean close to Brianne. “I have a single rule for you tonight, Princess,” I say quietly.

  She’s still trying to piece together exactly what this is, but I have her full attention.

  “If more than ten seconds pass without you touching me, I’ll punish you tonight. Is that clear?”

  The corner of her mouth curves upward and she looks at me with those large, mischievous blue eyes. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Your punishment will be that you’re not allowed to cum. I’ll bring you so fucking close that a whisper could push you over the edge and then make you watch it slip away. So think carefully about disobeying me.”

  She seems to force her face into a somber expression with an effort, but her small hand presses against my back.

  I grin down at her. “Good girl.”

  We move inside the convention center and a woman in a black dress tries to hand us flyers. I wave her away, but Brianne thanks her and takes one. She looks down at the flyer and her eyebrows pinch together in surprise. “Oh my God. Are these authors all here?” she asks, looking over the list of guest speakers.

  “Yeah,” I say. “And half of them work for me, so we’re going to go to a back room and you’ll get to talk to whoever you want one on one. Pick their brains, or something.”

  She hugs me tightly, pressing her face against my chest. “You’re so amazing,” she says. I hear her sniff and pull her back by the shoulders, frowning. I use my thumb to carefully wipe a tear that’s about to fall from her eye.

  “Come on,” I say pleadingly. “I can’t stand seeing you cry.”

  “I’m just happy,” she says, shrugging. “You make me feel… special.”

  I stroke her jaw and push a strand of hair out of her eyes. “You are, Princess.”

  She laughs a little, visibly trying to shake off her emotions. That’s probably what you tell all the girls who sign your little contract.”

  “First of all,” I say with a smirk. “There’s nothing little about my… contract. But more importantly, no. I didn’t say that to them. To tell you the truth, I never broke out of my role as dom with the women before you. I ruled them with an iron fist and didn’t let them get to know me. It was,” I say slowly, searching for the word. “Superficial. Shallow, even. You’re different.”

  She buries her head in my chest again, squeezing her arms around me and sighing. “Well, I’m going to just go ahead and believe you, since you don’t seem to be giving me a choice.”

  “Good,” I say. “Get used to it. I’ve spoiled you already by going so easy on you.”

  I let her take her time making her way to the back room. She stops at booths and talks to presenters and smaller authors who are hosting informal Q and A’s. I follow behind her, occupying myself mostly with the count. When she takes her hands off me to grab presentation materials or to fix her hair, I start counting. The closest I made it to ten was when she had to shake hands with a woman who wrote romance. It looked like the woman was never going to let the handshake end, but Brianne smoothly kicked her leg up and grazed my leg with her foot just in time.

  We eventually make our way to the conference room overlooking the lake behind the convention center. I send a few quick texts out to some of the authors under contract with me. They aren’t technically obligated to do as I ask, but every one of them knows not to get on my bad side.

  I motion for Brianne to sit on one side of the conference table and then step away, forcing her hand on my forearm to let me go as I move. I see the slight look of panic in her eyes as I move to sit across from her. Just as she’s opening her mouth to speak, the door opens. The biggest author under contract with me, Noranne Wallace, walks in. She smiles politely and moves to sit across the table. I smile at Brianne.

  Eight. Nine.

  I feel something against my knee and try not to laugh out loud. She’s low in her chair and her face is strained as she tries to stretch her leg beneath the table to touch me.

  Noranne gives Brianne a slightly confused look, but Brianne manages to pull her chair closer so she doesn’t have to strain so much to reach me. I decide to give her a few seconds before I make her job harder.

  “I’m so honored to meet you,” says Brianne.

  “Thank you,” says Noranne. “Jackson says you’re an author as well?”

  Brianne scoffs self-deprecatingly. “Well, I would say I’m a writer. I don’t think I can call myself an author until I actually get something I write out there.”

  Noranne nods knowingly. “I remember the feeling.”

  I spread my legs wide and move my chair forward, forcing Brianne to strain a little to reach the inside of my thigh now because my knees are out of reach.

  I see the hint of fear in her eyes when she realizes what I’m planning and have to cover my mouth to hide the satisfied smile on my face.

  “So, what kind of writing do you do?” asks Noranne.

  “Romance,” says Brianne.

  “Ah, yes,” says Noranne knowingly. “I always wished I could write romance, myself, but my breakout novel was a thriller, and I’ve been too chickenshit to risk trying something new.”

  Brianne laughs at seeing the matronly old woman curse so freely, but I can see the strain in her face as she tries to push herself closer to the table so her foot can find some part of me to touch. Finally, her toe presses against my cock. She prods experimentally once or twice before he eyebrows twitch upwards just barely. She knows what’s she’s touching.

  Once I have her where I want, I scoot my chair forward enough that she can relax a little.

  “I’m sure you could pull it off,” says Brianne, a little distractedly. She rubs the ball of her foot across my rapidly hardening cock, and now it’s my turn to shift in my seat. “It’s hard,” she adds, grinning slightly. “But if you work at it long enough, it will come.”

  I almost laugh at loud at her innuendo. My fucking Princess. My little virgin princess and her dirty mind. Except she’s not a virgin anymore. That thought makes me swell with pride. I claimed her virginity. I marked her. For the rest of her life, there’s no changing that. It’s a prize I’ll always have and I’ll always cherish.

  I’m still not satisfied though. I want more than just her virginity. I want more than her body. I want that pure heart beating in her chest to beat for me just as mine beats for her.

  But there’s a big, dark obstacle standing between that future. The Dominicans who want me dead. Not just me, either. I think they want everyone I love dead and if I don’t think of a way to stop them, they’ll make sure it happens. Right now though, Brianne’s foot against my cock is keeping me from dwelling on it.

  I’m amazed that she’s somehow able to hold a conversation with Noranne while she’s making me grip the armrests of my chair to hold back from groaning out loud. I thought I was the one playing
games with her, but the faintest hint of a smile and the flush in her cheeks tells me I was wrong. I can’t quite bring myself to complain.

  The door opens again and two more authors file in. Dennis Whittaker and Forest Montgomery. Both men are international bestsellers. Brianne’s foot freezes against me as she watches them come in. Dennis sits beside Brianne and Forest sits beside me.

  The next twenty minutes are some of the longest, and most entertaining minutes of my life. I’m forced to steeple my fingers in front of my face and pretend I have a headache, while Brianne’s foot somehow manages to force me to use all my powers of focus to avoid cumming. She, on the other hand, is managing to make the room laugh as she mixes self-deprecating humor, admiration, and wit together in a blend that seems to have charmed all three authors, who probably were expecting a star-struck little girl who would spend the time drooling over them.

  When they finally leave, I get up and slam the lock into place behind them. I turn on Brianne, who is already moving toward me, not wanting to break the ten second rule.

  “You fucking minx,” I growl through gritted teeth, lifting her and pressing her to the wall so her face is level with mine. “You sexy, mischievous little thing,” I say.

  She puts on an innocent face and shrugs. I can’t take it anymore.

  I rip her blouse open. She gasps, flashing a temporary look of horror as her mind likely goes to how she’s going to get out of here topless. I don’t care though. I have to have her. I need to have her. And I’m done playing games.

  I don’t bother undressing her completely, I’m too desperate to be inside her, too hungry. I jerk her panties down and turn her so her face is pressed to the wall. “New rules,” I whisper into her ear as I grip her by the hair, hard enough to let her know she’s not going anywhere, but not so hard she’s uncomfortable. “You aren’t allowed to cum until I say so. Understand?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she says, voice muffled by the wall.

  “Good. That’s my good fucking Princess.” I run my hand down her back and grab a fistfull of her ass. “Are you wet for me?”

  “Yes,” she breathes. “God, yes.”

  I take her roughly with my hand, feeling the warmth and wetness of her slit and grinning. “You liked touching me in front of those authors, didn’t you?” I ask. “You’re so fucking wet.”

  “Mhmm,” she moans.

  I undo my tie quickly and grip it tightly, holding it at my side with one hand and her hair with the other. “This is for toying with me,” I say, whipping the tie across the back of her thighs. She jolts, breathing hard and closing her eyes. “And this is for how much I fucking like it,” I say, kissing her beneath the ear and her neck.

  I want nothing more than to bury myself inside her and fuck her like it’s my last day on earth. My pulsing cock practically begs for it, but an idea strikes me, and I can’t resist.

  “I told you BDSM is about trust,” I say, letting go of her hair and straightening the tie. “So you’re going to prove how much you trust me.” I wrap the tie around her eyes and wave my hand in front of her face. “Can you see anything?”

  “No,” she says nervously.

  “Perfect. Now take my hand and follow me. Do exactly as I say.”

  She takes my hand in hers and I lead her away from the wall. Her blouse is ripped open and her skirt is hiked up around her ass. Her soaked panties are stretched between her knees, forcing her to shuffle a little as she walks. I undo the lock on the door and feel her pull back against me.

  “Remember,” I warn. “Trust.”

  She gradually relaxes, standing beside me, completely exposed and vulnerable but motionless except the rise and fall of her bare chest.

  I crack the door open and stick my head into the hallway. One end curves out of sight in an endless row of doors and rooms. The other opens into the main conference hall, where people are mingling and sipping drinks about a hundred yards away. Two men in suits are coming down the hall toward us, both wearing identification badges around their necks.

  I pull my head back in the room. “Wait until I say so, then we’re going to move.”

  “Out there?” she asks. “Jackson, please…”

  “Sir,” I say firmly. “And you will trust me. I expect nothing less. Am I clear?”

  She nods solemnly.

  I hate to see my Princess anxious, but I know the thrill of having to trust me so completely will be worth it for her in the end, so I don’t mind letting her squirm a little.

  Once I hear the footsteps of the men pass by our door, I look out into the hall again.

  “Come on, follow me.”

  “Oh God,” she mutters.

  I take one more look at how incredibly exposed she is an can’t help biting my lip. My cock feels like it’s about to fucking explode, but this is worth every second of delay. To my delight, she lets me lead her into the hallway, completely trusting me.

  I lead her across the hall to a door and try the knob. It doesn’t open.

  “Oh,” I say quietly. “I thought these were all open.”

  “Jackson!” she hisses.

  I let her use of my name slide, given the circumstances, and pull her down the hallway toward another door. Locked again.

  The sound of laughter from deeper down the hallway echoes to us. Another group of people are coming. I can feel how tense Brianne is against me, but I try one last door. This one opens and we both go stumbling and laughing into an empty conference room similar to the one we just left. I bend her over the table and slide my fingers between her legs.

  “You’re even wetter. Dirty girl. You loved that, didn’t you?”

  She moans in response to my touch. I unbuckle my belt and toss it to the ground, reaching for my zipper when I hear the voices from the hall stop just outside the door to the room we’re in. I realize I didn’t lock it, and quickly grab Brianne, who’s still blindfolded, and move her to the electronics closet. “Oh my God,” she whispers.

  There’s not much space in the small closet, as it was designed to hold the projection equipment and not much else. Brianne’s face is to the wall and my body is pressed against her. The door to the main room opens and the lights are flicked on. The voices of the people entering are muffled, but we can hear them clearly enough.

  “All right. You ready to wow them?” asks a woman.

  “Heh. Yeah. I’m looking to avoid a repeat of last year in Indiana.”

  The woman groans. “Please do. We really need to land this contract.”

  I lean close to Brianne’s ear and whisper. “You’re still not allowed to cum until I say.”

  She half-turns, but I’ve already freed my cock and pressed it into her opening. She claps a hand to her mouth and breathes out a ragged gasp. The man and woman in the room fall silent.

  “Did you hear that?” asks the woman.

  I guide my cock deeper into her, filling her until I’m completely inside her perfectly tight warmth. Her walls pulse around me faintly with her heartbeat, and damn is her heart racing.

  Brianne covers her mouth with a hand and moans.

  I hear slow footsteps approaching the closet when the door to the main room opens again.

  “Mr. Nash!” says the male voice cheerily. “I’m so glad your team could make it. Please, have a seat and we’ll get started right away.”

  “The rules still stand,” I whisper, pumping into her again as the men and women in the room start talking about sales figures and projected quarterly earnings.

  I take my time, working my cock into her in a slow, purposeful rhythm, savoring every moment.

  “It’s so big,” she whispers.

  I grin, gripping her full breast in one hand and her hip in the other as I glide in and out of her tight heat. I distantly wish I had her in my playroom so I could have her exactly the way I want, but knowing there’s a room full of businessmen and women on the other side of the door does add an enjoyable level of excitement. Besides, Brianne is probably beside herself with worry tha
t we’ll be discovered. Good. When I bring her to climax, all the emotion she feels will only heighten the pleasure. I won’t be happy until I have her screaming so loud that half the convention center knows what we’re doing.

  She’s so wet for me, already, but I want more.

  I grab a cord from the projector nearby and unplug one end from the wall, wrapping her wrists together and turning her to face me. The hunger and lust in her eyes nearly puts me over the edge as I drive myself back inside her. I pull her legs up and around my waist, pinning her shoulders to the wall and holding her up by the ass. I kiss her hard on the mouth, muffling the moans spilling from her lips. She puts her tied wrists over my head and behind my neck, using the leverage to grind her hips into me. The way I’m pounding into her is making a soft, slapping sound, and the voices in the room eventually trail off, leaving us in silence, except for the soft slapping of my hips against her.

  “I can’t,” she breathes. “I can’t hold it back.”

  “Then cum for me,” I growl, letting the climax I’ve been holding at bay rush free. Everything but my cock inside her dulls into nothingness. An explosion of sensation rocks my body, weakening my legs and arms as I press myself as deeply into her as I can. My cock pulses, filling her deeply with cum as her core convulses around me. I realize her head is thrown back and she’s gasping out loud.

  The door swings open behind us and I turn, looking eye-to-eye with six professionals dressed in suits. Their expressions range from shock to disbelief as they take in the sight of me buried to the hilt in Brianne and her ravaged clothing and exposed body.

  I clear my throat. “My client and I just need a couple minutes to finish going over last quarter’s numbers. If you don’t mind,” I say, pulling the door closed and freeing myself from Brianne.

 

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