Captured by the Billionaire (The Complete Series)

by Sykes, Julia

  The room was hexagonal, each of the six walls separated by pink marble columns that matched the floor. There were frescoes on the walls depicting beautiful mermaids with creamy skin and glimmering tails, strands of pearls threaded through their long hair. Candelabras were mounted to the walls, illuminating the room with a soft glow.

  But Mallory’s attention was focused on a large table in the center of the room, crafted of deeply polished wood. It was not the beautiful craftsmanship that drew her eye, though; there were iron shackles attached to chains at each of the four corners, the metal glinting dully in the candlelight.

  She froze where she stood, her mouth going dry. Jake stepped in front of her, hiding the table from view. He cupped her face with both of his hands, forcing her head up to look him in the eye. “Don’t be afraid, Mallory,” he said. “You are going to enjoy this. I promise you,” his voice was low and seductive. Mallory noticed that his eyes had once again taken on a greenish hue. It seemed that their color changed with his mood: blue-green when he was being playfully seductive, and that hard, deep sapphire when he was asserting his dominance, bringing her under his control.

  He slowly lowered one hand to her nape, tracing the length of her neck as he did so. He held her there as he bent to take her lips with his, his tongue tracing their outline, teasing. She melted, opening for him. He kissed her slowly, languorously massaging her tongue with his.

  Pulling away slightly, he whispered against her lips. “Do you trust me, Mallory?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she breathed, saying the honorific without thinking.

  His smile was genuinely pleased, but it had a sharp edge to it, a hint of menace; he had her right where he wanted her, and there was nothing she could do to resist him. His hand dropped from her face, moving to the small of her back. It slipped between her skirt and corset, dipping downwards. He brushed his fingers against the skin where her tailbone met her ass, and she gasped in pleasure as her pussy contracted in response to his touch.

  He suddenly grasped the laces that tightened her skirt around her waist and pulled. The tension released, and the skirt slipped from her waist and pooled at her feet, leaving her standing before him in nothing but her corset and heels; at his request, she hadn’t worn any underwear. She had assented, thinking it a sexy game, never realizing that he might expose her like this.

  Instinctively, she moved her hands to cover herself, but Jake quickly caught her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding them there in one large hand. “No, sub,” he said in a low, gravelly tone. “I like to look at what’s mine.”

  Mine. The word made something twinge in her chest. But she was immediately distracted by his hand between her legs, his fingers running up her inner thigh. He paused before he touched her sex, leaving her wanting.

  “Do you want me to touch you, Mallory?” He asked softly.

  She nodded, panting, holding herself back from begging.

  “If you’re good, I will.” She looked up at him in disbelief as he withdrew his hand. He was smiling down at her coldly, his eyes deep blue and glinting.

  “Lie down on the table, Mallory,” he commanded. She hesitated, still in shock from his denial.

  His smile disappeared, replaced by a small frown. “I gave you an order, sub.”

  Mallory warred with herself for a moment. This imperious treatment grated on her, but at the same time, she was desperate for release. She thought about touching herself, but one look at Jake’s hard eyes told her that that was a very bad idea indeed.

  He cocked an eyebrow at her, letting her know that he was not amused with her hesitation. Quailing under his impatient gaze, Mallory stepped out of her skirt and edged around him, approaching the table. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she sat on the edge of it. It was cold and unyielding beneath her heated flesh.

  Jake’s arm hooked under her knees, lifting her legs and swinging them up onto the wooden surface. Then his hand was on her shoulder, firmly pushing her down onto her back. He circled around to the head of the table and took her left arm, slowly pulling it up over her head. There was something cold and hard encircling her wrist, and there was an audible snap as the shackle closed around it. Mallory shivered, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the coolness of the metal or her growing fear; she had never been bound like this before.

  Jake did the same to her right wrist before securing her ankles. Instinctively, she pulled at her restraints, testing them. The unyielding metal bit into her delicate skin, a harsh reminder of her helplessness. Mallory was feeling light-headed, overwhelmed by what was happening to her.

  “Breathe, Mallory,” Jake reminded her. She gasped in a shallow breath, unable to draw in much air because of the tightness of her corset. She heard the heels of his boots clicking on the marble floor as he walked around her. His gaze was impassive as she watched him warily.

  He disappeared from her line of sight as he walked around the head of the table. She craned her head to look back at him.

  “Eyes forward, sub,” he said in a clipped tone. Her head snapped back so that she was staring at the ceiling. The clicking of his boots seemed even louder as he walked around behind her, the sound her only means of tracking his location.

  Suddenly, he was looming over her, grinning. Her breathing turned fast and hard when she saw what he was holding in his hand: one of the white tapered candles that illuminated the room.

  His expression softened as he noticed her alarm. He reached out and gently traced the line of her cheekbone and jaw with his long fingers. “I’m not going to harm you, Mallory,” he assured her. “You trust me, don’t you?” He asked again, reminding her that she had already admitted as much.

  She gave a jerky nod, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Now,” he said, a bit clinically, “there will be pain, Mallory, but I know you can take it. Use your safe word if it becomes too much.”

  She relaxed a modicum as he reminded her of her out, that she ultimately held all the power here in that she could stop their play at any time.

  Then he held the candle aloft, directly over her chest. Mallory gulped as he paused, the anticipation of pain tying her stomach in knots. Then he tilted the taper slowly. She could see the bead of wax dangle on the edge for a moment before dripping down, dropping faster than she could see.

  Mallory hissed in a breath as the hot wax left a little burning circle on the top of her right breast. But then the heat sank into her skin, shooting down through her to warm her sex. The intense need that she had felt when Jake had teased her a few minutes before surged back to the fore, her nipples hardening and her clit throbbing.

  The burning sensation on her breast had barely receded when another hot drop landed on her chest. She should have been ready for it, but it was just as shocking as the first time. Her need impossibly increased.

  She looked up at Jake, wide-eyed. He was studying her chest like an artist would study his painting, completely focused on what he was doing. He tilted the candle more sharply, moving it as he did so. Half a dozen drops fell onto her breasts in quick succession, the burning making her eyes roll back in her head as she was assailed by the pleasure that accompanied the pain.

  There was a pause, and then Mallory’s eyes snapped open and she cried out as heat flashed on her left thigh. She jerked in surprise and was rewarded by her cuffs biting into her ankles. Jake looked at her sternly.

  “Don’t move, or this may land somewhere very unpleasant.”

  Mallory gulped, thinking of the burning wax hitting her sensitive sex. She didn’t think she could handle that. Gathering her willpower, she forced her body to remain still as the next hot drop fell onto her right thigh. Jake continued at a slow, torturous pace, as drip by drip he painted her with the hot wax, moving incrementally closer to her pussy with every drop. It was everything she could do to stop from squirming.

  “Please, Sir,” she begged. “Please, no more.”

  He smiled down at her, staring into her eyes as he tilted the candle. Hea
t seared her sensitive skin just above her clit. Mallory screamed in shock.

  And then his hand was at her clit, finally, finally touching her. The relative coolness of his hand soothed away the burning of the wax, but his touch stoked the fire that had been growing within her all evening.

  He delved one thick finger inside of her, keeping his thumb on her clit. Pumping in and out of her, he hit her g-spot as his thumb traced circles around her hardened bud. The blaze inside her turned to a conflagration, utterly consuming her as she cried out her orgasm. Jake continued to stroke her as she rode it out, her body quivering around him as she came.

  Finally, she went limp, her eyes closed. She had never felt so completely sated in her life.

  Chapter 3

  Mallory opened her eyes, blinking, when she heard the clanking of the metal cuffs as Jake released her from her bonds. She pulled her wrists down to her chest, rubbing at the red lines that the metal had left around them. Once her ankles were free, Jake took her hands in his, pulling her to a sitting position. He tenderly tucked back a stray lock of hair that had fallen from her elaborate up-do as she had thrashed around during her orgasm. She was grinning up at him like a fool, still feeling high from the bliss that had soared through her.

  “Enjoyed that, did we?” He was smiling back at her, equally as broadly.

  Mallory nodded, almost shyly. It was a strange transition to go from being with the detached, dominant Jake to the sweet, caring one. It put her off-balance, but she had to admit to herself that she was coming to like both sides of him. She had been scared of the hot wax, of being restrained, but she had taken a leap of faith, putting her trust in him. And it had been absolutely amazing. Maybe there really was something to BDSM after all. It was more than just being tied up and fucked; it was a power-play, a deep emotional connection as you surrendered to someone completely.

  “Good,” Jake grinned. “So did I.” Mallory knew that Jake had felt the same connection to her as she did to him, although in a different way. He had been so focused on her as they had played, as though nothing in the world existed but her, as though he lived for her reactions to his ministrations. And the world had melted away for her as well, all of her senses honing in on him, on what he was doing to her.

  Jake released her hands from his grip, turning from her. She felt a slight sense of loss as he bent to retrieve her skirt from the floor. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed,” he said.

  Mallory looked down at herself and saw the thick white drops of wax covering her chest, the little splashes of it dotting the bust of her corset, and the splatters of it on her upper thighs. “How am I going to get this off?” She asked him. She reached up to scrape some of it off with her fingernails.

  “You’re not,” he said simply, gripping her wrist before she could touch the wax.

  “What?” She gaped at him.

  He was back in her personal space, trailing his fingers over the bubbles of wax on her breasts. “You wouldn’t ask an artist to destroy his painting, would you?” He asked. “I like how this looks.” He grinned wolfishly. “And so will everyone else.”

  So everyone would know what they had been doing in here? Mallory had been glad of the privacy of the room, but now he wanted to take her in public like this? She flushed as she realized that people in the main room had probably heard her screaming. She glared at Jake, but his own gaze had turned stony, unyielding.

  Finally, Mallory capitulated with a sigh, electing to say nothing at all. Hopping down off of the table, she stepped into her skirt and allowed Jake to help her tie it in place.

  She barely had time to compose herself before he was pushing the curtain aside, pulling her back into the room full of masked pervs. Well, I’m one of them now, I guess, she thought ruefully. She tried her best to ignore how the hardened wax pulled slightly on her skin as she moved, a physical reminder of what Jake had done to her. Impossibly, she was feeling aroused again, but although she found the embarrassment secretly thrilling, her nerves were getting jittery again now that they were back in the crowd.

  “Do you want some more champagne?” Jake asked kindly.

  “Yes, please,” she gratefully accepted. But there were no longer any waiters circulating the room with drinks trays.

  Jake placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face so that her eyes met his. “I’m going to go find us some drinks. Will you be okay here for a few minutes?”

  Mallory wanted to go with him, but she didn’t want to seem like some needy child who had to be monitored at all times. So she schooled her face to an impassive expression and nodded that she would be fine. She felt a pang of panic as he walked away, but pride made her stay put. Hovering at the edge of the room, she tried her best for nonchalance.

  “So you enjoy wax play, then?” Mallory jumped at the sudden proximity of a deep, Irish-accented voice. She turned and found herself staring up into a pair of cold black eyes, which were peering out at her through a frowning black mask that covered the man’s entire face. It was the horned man that she had noticed when she had first arrived. She took a step back, unnerved by his closeness.

  “Um,” she began dumbly, realizing that a long moment had passed without her answering. “It’s okay.”

  The cold eyes crinkled in amusement. “I’d say you like it more than just ‘okay’ judging by your screaming.”

  Mallory’s face turned beet red, and this time there was no twinge in her sex accompanying her embarrassment; she just felt disconcerted. She tried to peer around the towering man. Where is Jake? She wondered, anxious for him to return. She had no idea how she was supposed to act around this man. What were the social rules at this kind of party?

  The horned man took a step toward her, and she took an involuntary step back, her back bumping up against the curtained wall behind her. “This is beautiful work,” he said admiringly, gesturing at the wax that was splattered across her breasts. He reached out to brush his gloved hand over it.

  Okay, rules or no rules, in no scenario was it alright with Mallory for someone to touch her without her consent. She slapped his hand away with her own.

  “Excuse me,” she said coldly, moving to step around him.

  Strong hands were gripping her shoulders, restraining her, pinning her to the wall. Mallory’s eyes widened in shock. Surely this wasn’t acceptable behavior? This man was a complete stranger! Just because she had come to this party as Jake’s submissive didn’t mean that just anyone could manhandle her. His touch made her skin crawl.

  “Let me go,” she forced her voice to remain carefully controlled, not wanting to betray her fear. Where was Jake? He should be back by now.

  “You’re a fiery one, aren’t you lass?” He said condescendingly. His amused tone was much like Jake’s when he toyed with her, but there was no rush of warmth to her sex this time; the man’s words just left Mallory feeling cold.

  “I’ll show you fiery if you don’t let me go,” she snapped at him, her hackles rising.

  One of his hands left her shoulder to grip her jaw tightly, using almost bruising force. Mallory’s eyes watered from the pain.

  “Don’t worry, little one,” he said silkily. “I’ll be able to take you in hand.”

  Mallory was close to panicking now. Jake didn’t seem to be coming to her rescue, and this guy was hurting her.

  “Take this, asshole,” she hissed as she brought up her knee as sharply as she could. Although her skirts encumbered her, she managed to get a good shot in. The man cursed, releasing her instantly as he dropped to his knees. She dodged around him, but his hands grasped at her full skirt.

  “You bitch,” he snarled.

  She lashed out, her high heel connecting with his doughy gut. All of the wind rushed out of him as he doubled over, releasing her. She darted away from him before he could grab her again.

  Her eyes quickly roved over the crowd, searching for Jake. Her molester was cursing so loudly that he was drawing attention. People were staring at her, judging her. Wanting noth
ing more than to get out of there, Mallory began shoving her way through the crowd, heading for the exit. Finally, she burst through the double doors and into the foyer, closing them sharply behind her and leaning on them for support.

  “What are you doing out here?” Asked a hard, cold voice.

  Relief washed over Mallory as she looked up. “Jake!” She sighed in relief, moving towards him. But he stepped back from her. She met his eyes, and they were cold and forbidding.

  “Don’t try to play me, Mallory,” he said harshly. “I saw you in there.”

  What? Was he mad that she had given that asshole what he deserved?

  “Jake,” she began tentatively, worried that she had embarrassed him. “I’m sorry if I-”

  “Sorry for what, Mallory?” He asked acerbically, his eyes flashing with anger and something else that was harder to define. Was it betrayal? “For using me for my money or for being a slut?”

  Mallory gasped, the word hitting her like a slap to the face. Hurt came before anger did. “What are you talking about?” Her voice quavered.

  “I saw you with him, Mallory.” His stare was glacial, wrapping ice around her heart. “You looked very cozy together. So why don’t we stop this charade now before you embarrass yourself any further?”

  Now Mallory’s anger bubbled up at the injustice of his assumption. “Cozy?!” She had to stop herself from shrieking. “Did you not see me nail the bastard in the balls for touching me?”

  The lines of anger on Jake’s face gave way to surprise. “What?” He asked faintly.

  Oh, now Mallory was really pissed. “You left me alone to be molested by a random stranger, and you’re angry with me?! I don’t know what kind of world you live in, Jake, but where I come from what he was doing is not considered consensual.”

  “Mallory, I-”

  “You what?” She cut him off, seething. “Are you going to call me a s-slut again?” She stumbled over the word. “Or accuse me of being a gold-digger? Might I remind you that I didn’t even want to come on this trip. And now it’s becoming pretty clear that I should have trusted my instincts.”