Serving HIM Vol. 6: Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Parker, M. S.

  Driving in New York was for taxi drivers and the people who could afford to actually park their cars. Also for the crazy people who don’t mind the insane driving and the odd rules that only seem to apply in the city.

  I didn’t fit into any of those categories.

  I smiled as I stared out the window watching a trio of girls, all of them tall and skinny, all of them bedecked in black and walking on heels taller than anything I could possibly imagine myself walking in. They were laughing and talking as they walked along the street.

  “What are you looking at? You’re smiling.” Dominick’s voice drew my attention toward him.

  “Just the city.” I shrugged and went back to watching. “You’ve grown up here. Lived here all of your life. Unless you were traveling or…” Memory hit me though and I stopped, my throat locking up at me.

  He reached out and took my hand, threading his fingers between mine. “Don’t. I don’t want you freaking out over that. I just want to put it behind me. But I don’t want it to be a wall between us, Aleena. Ever.”

  “Can you put it behind you?” I asked.

  “Up until recently, I thought I had.” He shrugged restlessly. “But I’ve just been fooling myself. I lie to myself and I find ways to cope, but that’s not putting it behind me.”

  I scooted closer to him, which wasn't easy in my tight outfit. I curled up against him and rested my hand just above his heart.

  “Maybe you’re not supposed to put it behind you,” I said gently. “Maybe what you’re supposed to do is learn to live with it. Accept it. I’m not sure it’s the same thing.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Have you...” I hesitated, but then forced myself to forge ahead. If we trusted each other, loved each other, we had to be able to talk about things, no matter how hard they were. “Have you talked to anybody about this? Counselors? Therapy?”

  His laugh was bitter and ugly. “My mother had me in therapy until I thought I might kill myself just to stop it. It didn’t help.”

  “What about survivors groups?”

  He stiffened. “No.” He shook his head and pulled our interlocked hands up so that he could press his lips against the back of my hand. “Look, I’m fine. I’m dealing.” Then he laughed, better than before, but still not happy. “Listen to me. I’m lying. I know I am.”

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Dominic,” I said. “But you’ve already said that you know you haven’t put it behind you and that all you’re doing is getting by. You deserve better than that. If there is a better way, you should try to find it.”

  ***

  Olympus was beyond anything I had ever imagined. I could definitely understand where they'd gotten the name. Home of the gods, indeed. If there had been a real Olympus, I figured they would have worn togas or whatever the garment of the day had been. Here it was suits and elegant gowns mingling with jeans and t-shirts.

  And then there was the leather.

  I had assumed I would see leather. Actually, I'd expected to see a lot more leather but when I did see it, it was enough to make the butterflies in my stomach take flight. It wasn’t worn in the form of clothing, for the most part. It was more of an…accessory?

  Like dog collars. And for the most part, that would be all the person was wearing. I suppressed the urge to put my hand to my neck. Dominic had given me a collar. Black velvet with little silver hoops that he used to attach various things. He'd explained to me the significance of asking me to wear it, that in the bdsm world, it would mean ownership. I'd been nervous that he'd ask me to wear it tonight, but he hadn't.

  As we walked by a couple, my eyes lingered on the man. He was on his hands and knees, head bowed. Around his neck was a leather collar. The steel leash attached to it was being held by a strict-looking woman in a leather mini dress. When she paused to chat with a man in jeans and a t-shirt, the man on the leash leaned his head against her thigh. As I watched, she reached down and stroked his hair in an almost absent manner, as if she wasn't really even registering his presence.

  The interaction sent a ripple of unease through me and I glanced up at Dominic. When we were out of earshot of the couple, I leaned towards him and spoke in a low voice. “The collar you gave me...” My stomach twisted. “I'll never do that.”

  He looked down at me, his lips curving into a soft smile. “The collar means you're mine, that no one else can approach you.” He slid his hand from the small of my back to my hip, pulling me close to him. “I don't want that for us, but it makes them happy. They’ve been married for twenty years. To each their own.”

  We continued on for a few minutes before a woman in a red velvet corset and a long skinny black skirt stopped us. She leaned forward to kiss Dominic and he casually turned his head, catching the kiss on his cheek. His hand flexed on my hip, then slid around so that his fingers rested on my belly and I was tucked under his arm in a clearly possessive gesture.

  “Natalie.” He nodded at her and then turned his head toward me. “Aleena, this is an old friend of mine. Natalie, this is Aleena. My...girlfriend.”

  A thrill went through me at the word. We hadn't discussed what labels fit what we had, but I loved that he'd chosen something rather simplistic. In this world, the word lover didn't necessarily mean love. Girlfriend, however, meant that we were something outside of the bedroom.

  Natalie’s eyebrows went up. “Girlfriend?” She started to laugh, but stopped as she caught sight of the serious expression on Dominic’s face. To my surprise, she turned to me and smiled, holding out her hand. “Aleena, is it? It’s nice to meet you. Natalie Walsh.”

  At the table next to us, I heard the familiar sound of a hand striking flesh and a guttural moan. A man cried out and the muffled words, “Please mistress. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to displease...”

  There was a second strike.

  Blood rushed to my face and I was thankful for the dim lighting as I squeezed and shook Natalie’s hand in return. “Aleena Davison.”

  “Let me guess,” she said. The smile on her face was understanding. “Your first time.”

  I made a face. “Is it that obvious?”

  She shrugged. “I say you’re holding up rather well. You’re not gawking and whipping your head around like a tourist.”

  “A tourist?”

  “Dominic?” She glanced at him.

  He looked at me and then shrugged. He led me over to the railing. We had come in through what it seemed to be a private entrance, going straight up to the third level. Now we were staring down onto the bottom two levels. The upper levels were circular and open, so you could view the lower level and each floor was smaller, but narrower, almost like an old coliseum would have been laid out. The lowest level seemed to be almost like the entertainment for the upper levels. There was even a stage in the very center where it appeared someone was setting up for a show.

  “Tourists,” Natalie said from my other side. “They come for the shock of it, but they never stay for very long.”

  My breath caught as I realized several of the couples I'd thought were dancing were actually having sex, or something like it. I jerked my head up to stare at Dominic. He was watching me, clearly waiting to see how I would react. There was a wariness on his face and I knew what I did in the next few minutes would have an impact on our relationship. It was one thing to get kinky in the bedroom. It was something else entirely to be surrounded by it.

  Slowly, I shifted my attention back to the dance floor. I couldn't hide my shock...or the arousal that was beginning to work its way through the surprise.

  Bodies twisted. Twined. I watched as one woman went to her knees and presented her buttocks for a flogging. I squirmed and Dominic ran his hand up my ribcage, his fingertips caressing the side of my breast. I made a small sound but didn't look away from the floor.

  There was a woman perched on the railing between the dance floor and the dining area and she had two people in front of her, a woman and a man. Each one was suc
king on a nipple and she looked between the two with a patented, bored expression on her face. She held a cane in her hand and I watched as she used the cane to tap the man’s cheek.

  When he lifted his head, she nudged him back with the toe of one thigh-high, spike-heeled boot.

  Another man took his place, wrapping his lips around the recently abandoned nipple.

  “Auditioning,” Dominic said in my ear. “She does that a lot. She’s got a VIP membership and she can bring somebody up here with her, but she likes to play the new people. She won’t bring anybody to the third floor. She never does.”

  The lights dimmed even more and I lost sight of the woman and the pair auditioning. I didn't try to look for them though as two people walked onto the stage.

  It was a man. I squinted and realized I’d seen him earlier. The guy in jeans and t-shirt. He’d been talking to Natalie just before we'd come up to her. The woman with him wore a black silk cocktail dress and a mask.

  He held rope.

  Lots and lots of red rope.

  As the crowd went silent, a low, melodic tune began to play. Weeping sax and rich violin, blended with the haunting strains from a piano. A pair of stage lights focused on the pair.

  “What’s going on?” I asked in a whisper.

  “The show.” Dominic leaned forward, his eyes narrowed. “Watch.”

  The man looked out at the audience and gave a slow smile.

  And then he got to work.

  ***

  I was dazed and sweating by the time it ended.

  She wore a cage of ropes. I didn't have any other word for what I was seeing. The red ropes crisscrossed her body all the way down, breasts framed perfectly. Even her legs were caged, the x’ing pattern of the ropes continuing until she was immobilized, only her head, hands and feet left unbound. Her skin glistened with sweat and she stared with intense focus at the man as he bent down and kissed her gently.

  “It’s called shibari,” Dominic said, his voice husky in my ear.

  I jumped and then swallowed. I'd almost forgotten he was there. Now, I could feel his hand burning through the thin material of my shirt.

  “Does that interest you?”

  “Um…” I glanced at his face and saw he was smiling. Even in the dim light, I could see his eyes practically glow. “Yeah. It’s well…” I struggled to find the right word. “Beautiful.”

  Hot.

  I looked back at the stage just as the man picked up his partner and carried her off the stage, still bound.

  “It was…” Words escaped me.

  “Erotic.”

  No word had ever seemed more apt. “Yes.”

  When he took my hand, I let him lead me away. My legs were shaky, as if I'd been teased to the brink of something. I understood, to some extent, the bliss I’d seen on the woman’s face although I realized some of what I was feeling was envy. I didn't quite understand it, but I wanted to.

  Cool air brushed over me and I looked up, realized we were in a new room and we were alone.

  My eyes shot to the bed, to the pole in the middle of the room, then the various instruments and devices left out for display. “Where are we?”

  “One of the VIP rooms.” Dominic turned to face me. He frowned as he brushed back some hair from my face. “What are you thinking?”

  I bit my lip nervously. “I’m afraid you’ll be upset.”

  “No.” He rested his hands on my shoulders. “I want to know.”

  I could feel the tension in his hands, in his body. “I…the woman on the stage.”

  “His sub. I think they're permanent partners.” Dominic’s lashes lay low over his eyes, shielding his gaze from me. “Like us.”

  My chest tightened at that. Permanent. Like us.

  He continued, “That sort of bondage takes a special degree of trust and training. If they aren’t partners, then she’s been topped by somebody skilled in shibari before and he's studied it as well. It’s an art form, one that takes practice on both sides.” He gave me a curious look. “You want to try it.”

  “Well…” I was squirming now.

  He cupped my face, not letting me look away. “What is it, Aleena?”

  “It…” I blew out a breath. “Did you see her face? It was like she was somewhere else entirely. Only those two existed.”

  “For her, at that moment, it was just her and just him.”

  I still couldn't move my head, but I lowered my eyes. “I've felt that before. With us.”

  His fingers twitched on my cheeks.

  “But it looked like...more. To be able to get that way with all those people...”

  Dominic's voice was soft. “She gave herself over to him entirely. There was no doubt, not in him or in herself.” He brushed his thumb across my bottom lip. “You've called me on holding back personally, but I think you've been holding back sexually.”

  I jerked my head up at that. “I...the things I've let you...I mean...”

  His expression was serious. “That's what I mean. The things you've let me do to you? You're still ashamed of what you enjoy.”

  His word choice hit me. I'd accused him of being ashamed of me, but I'd never once considered that I was really the one ashamed. Not of him or of being with him. Not even of what we did, but rather the fact that I enjoyed it. All of it. I enjoyed him spanking me, using a flogger, restraining me. I loved the way he fucked me, the way he made love to me. How his cock felt in my pussy...in my ass.

  “Aleena, darling.”

  His voice brought me back to him.

  “Let go.”

  As I nodded, I felt as if something had broken free. Relief flooded through me. I didn't have to be ashamed of what I wanted, what I liked. I was safe with him.

  He dropped his hands from my face, reaching down to lace his fingers between mine. “Now, be honest, do you want to be bound like that? It’s something that has to be learned.”

  I thought about it, thought about how the ropes caught her breasts, ran between her thighs. I was tempted to say yes. “Do you know how?”

  “No.” He squeezed my hands. “Like I said, it’s an art form. It takes practice. I know people who practice and it can be learned. I'll learn it, if that’s something you want.”

  “I…” Blowing out a breath, I shook my head. “I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  He nodded. “We'll put it aside for now then.” He let go of one of my hands and curled his hand around the back of my neck. “But I don't ever want you to feel like you have to be embarrassed to ask for something you want.”

  I smiled as I turned my head and kissed his wrist.

  “Are you ready for something new though?”

  I nodded and he turned me to face the pole, his body a hard, warm presence behind me.

  “I do know my way around ropes, Aleena.”

  ***

  He hadn’t lied.

  He’d handcuffed me before, used various types of cloth to tie up my hands and legs. Nothing as elaborate as the shibari we’d witnessed on stage, but I knew the feel of restraints against my skin.

  But this was different.

  My hands were tied to the pole rather than to each other, the right just an inch above the left, with just enough give that I could hold on to the cool metal. When he'd done that, I’d thought that would be it, but it wasn’t. He’d taken my left ankle and brought it up, tying it to my thigh, leaving me precariously perched on one foot. He wasn't finished even then. He pulled my left leg to the side, somehow fastening the rope to the pole in such a way that it left me exposed.

  “You know the nice thing about the VIP rooms?” he asked as he finished checking my bonds.

  I shook my head.

  “They offer a selection of new tools, new toys, and anything I like, I can take home. There’s a crop here I’m going to try on you, Aleena. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I gasped when he brought it down on my butt a moment later, sending a streak of pain through me. It was intens
e, a hot lick of flame up across my flesh. He repeated it, lower along my thigh, a lighter blow but still enough to burn. When he reached my ass again, he plied the crop with more force and I was whimpering by the time he stopped.

  “What do you think? Should we keep it? Or try something else?”

  Panting, I pressed my head to the pole. My ass felt like it was on fire. I could still feel each stroke.

  “We’ll try something else.”

  There was a pause, and then another type of pain. I heard the crack before I felt the heat bloom across my already sore ass. I cried out, my back arching as I fought my body's natural instinct to turn away.

  “This is a paddle.” He paused and came up behind me, stroking a hand up my back. “You remember your word, Aleena?”

  “Please…Dominic, please…”

  “Do you remember?” He demanded it now.

  “Yes!”

  “Good.”

  The next few minutes bled together, a hot miasma of pain, followed by a rush of relief that left me feeling like I was just going to drift away. He alternated between using the paddle on my ass and trading it out for the crop, which he used on my butt and thighs. Between my thighs. The first strike with the crop against my pussy sent me screaming into a nearly painful orgasm. As I came, I panted and begged for more in one breath, then in the next, I pleaded with him to stop.

  He didn’t though, timing his hits so that just as my climax was fading, he pushed me into another, this one even more intense than the last.

  I wasn't sure at what point he released me, only that the ropes were gone and he was massaging my ankle and then my wrists as he held me up. Everything felt so surreal, but all that mattered was the stark, hungry look on his face.

  He kissed me, hard, his tongue demanding as he plundered my mouth. His hands tightened around me until I knew I'd be bruised, but I didn't care. Then, suddenly, he was straightening, leading me somewhere. I barely registered that it was a table, only that he was bending me over it. The wood was cold against my hard nipples and I shivered.

  “Hands,” he ordered.

  I obeyed and in short order, my hands were tied behind my back, forcing me to lay with my chest and cheek against the table.