by Opal Carew
One? My eyes widen. “There’s more, sir?”
“Much more.” My new master chuckles. “I’ve only just begun.” He lifts my ass once more. “Such a pretty pussy.” He peruses this private part of me. “If you’re very good, I’ll decorate your clit with diamonds.” He’ll design a clit clamp for me. My body twitches as I imagine that pain, and he smiles knowingly. “You’re perfect for me, Arianna. Don’t ever doubt this.”
He lowers his head and applies himself to his self-appointed task, euphoria reflected in his tanned countenance. Another man might have used me like the slut everyone thinks I am, taking my body with no concern for my pleasure. Logan pays homage to my feminine form, his touch tender and his mouth hot. I gaze at him with wonder and lust as he nibbles and nips at my pussy, adoring me with his lips.
He’s in no rush to end my torment, peeling me apart slowly, leisurely gliding his tongue over each fold, chasing every drop, and I moan, wiggling with delight, the need inside me spiraling skyward.
My billionaire master circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, pushing back the concealing skin. I follow the movement with my hips, passion winding around me tighter and tighter and tighter until I whimper, his light touch unable to push me over the edge. I need something more.
Logan’s gaze meets mine. He knows what I require. I beseech him with my eyes.
He flings one arm across my body, strapping me to the seat. This restraint excites me. I can’t move, can’t escape him. He fastens his firm lips over my clit and looks upward. Oh my God. I hold my breath, reading his intent. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I’ll die. He’ll slay me dead.
His eyes glimmer. Logan inhales deeply, sucking my clit into his hot mouth. The pressure is too intense to survive. Shards of color explode in my mind. I scream, reaching for him, my spine bowing. My fingers sink into my billionaire’s hair, and I hold him to me, riding his face, while he sucks me dry, plunging his tongue into my tender pussy.
Ripples of warmth roll over me, cresting into a crescendo, then easing into a low hum. Energy seeps from my arms and legs. I release his hair, sag against the limousine seat, drained and barely conscious.
Logan straightens, his cheeks splattered with specks of moisture, his lips glistening with my juices. “You’re a delight, pet.” He lowers my skirt, covering me once more. “You’re a joy to watch.” He draws me into his arms, his body heat and distinctive scent engulfing me. “I’m never letting you go.”
“Don’t want you to let me go,” I mumble into his chest, my eyelids heavy, my mind fractured. “But please tell me there isn’t more.”
He chuckles. “We’ll stop for now.” He presses his lips against my forehead. “Sleep, Arianna. I’ll take care of you.”
I can’t sleep. My eyes close. I don’t want to waste one minute of this night. But I’m so fuckin’ weary, and when the blackness reaches for me, I don’t have the strength to escape its clutches. I allow it to part me from my billionaire, perhaps forever.
* * *
A band of heat encircles my waist. Seductive warmth curls along my bare shoulders, spine, ass, infusing me with a sense of safety, caring, love. I smile dreamily, stretching my arms and legs. The warmth moves with me, soothing my aching body. It’s a good soreness, the feeling one earns after a hard workout.
I open my eyes and blink. Beams of sunlight stream across the foot of a massive bed, highlighting the carvings on the red cherry wood posts. A stunningly beautiful painting hangs on one of the sage green walls, the subject, a pair of pale feminine hands bound in red ribbon.
Bound. Oh shit. I’m in my billionaire’s dungeon.
I try to sit up and am unable to move, a muscular right arm pinning me to the ivory sheets. “It’s morning.” I struggle to free myself, my voice loud in the otherwise silent room. “People will see me return to my apartment, Logan. They’ll know.” My father will have proof. He’ll disown me.
“No one will know.” Logan turns me easily in his arms, handling me carefully as though I’m delicate, precious. “I’ve considered this possibility. Trust me to protect you.”
The billionaire’s black hair is tousled. The shadow of stubble on his cheeks and chin accentuate the gold flecks in his brown eyes. His muscles are defined, his skin tanned. My mouth dries, this private image of him stirring my passion. “I trust you but--”
He places his right index finger over my lips, stopping my words. “There are no buts with trust.” He strokes my flesh, exploring every dip and curve.
“Benoit will be frantic,” I murmur against his fingers. “We have to deal with the vendors from last night, sort out the issues, settle their accounts.” Logan will safeguard me from my malicious half-siblings. My job, however, is my responsibility.
“We’ll both be in our respective offices by noon.” My workaholic billionaire knows all about responsibilities. “Your friend is always frantic.”
I smile. “He is.” Benoit revels in drama. I skim my fingers along Logan’s collarbones, over his pecs, circle his flat male nipples. “He suspected what our plans were for last night.”
“But you didn’t confirm his suspicions.” My billionaire lays still, allowing me to explore his body, his eyes partially closed.
“I didn’t.” I prop myself up. “No one knows.” My eyes widen. “A dragon?” I trace the black-and-gray tattoo curving around his left side, the design unexpected, the detail of the tiny scales, the webbing on the wings, exquisite.
“Bulls make money when the market goes up,” my sexy financier murmurs. “Bears make money when the market does down. Dragons find treasure in every market.”
This is how he became wealthy, by seizing every opportunity. “Dragons guard their treasures.” I splay my fingers over the ink, my hand inches away from his hard cock. “They’re possessive, territorial.”
“Dragons would never allow their treasure to escape them.” He stands, slides his hands under my ass and shoulders, and lifts me into his arms. “They take care of their valuable possessions, polishing and cherishing them.” He walks with me through the huge bedroom, his bare feet padding on the hardwood.
“Their treasures are treated so well, they don’t want to escape.” I link my fingers at his nape, holding onto him. We enter an equally large bathroom.
A brand new toothbrush, hairbrush, and other female necessities are set on the marble counter beside one of the sinks. There’s even a collection of makeup, the same brands I normally use.
Why would he do this for me? All I promised him was one night. I gaze pointedly at the assortment and then at Logan, needing an explanation for his actions.
“My home will always be yours,” he says, as though this explains everything, as though living together is a certainty.
Is it? I gaze up at his angular face. Could I give up everything—my family, my job, all I’ve ever known—for this man? Logan carries me into the open shower stall and taps a button. A small part of me says this decision is already made, was made the moment he touched me. I—
Warm water sprays down on us, the shock tearing me from my turbulent thoughts. I shriek, surprised, and press closer to my man.
“Sorry, pet.” Logan lowers me, sliding my body along his, the skin on skin contact exciting me. “I should have warned you.” He surprises me with the apology.
“I shouldn’t have reacted that way, sir.” My feet touch the wet tiled floor.
He squirts bodywash onto a cloth. “I’m glad you did.” He rubs sensuous circles into my form, massaging my tight muscles. “By reacting naturally, you show me what you like and don’t like.”
“You take my preferences into account, sir?” I voice a concern I didn’t realize I had.
“You drive our scenes.” Logan swirls the cloth over my breasts, round and round, following my curves, escalating the need inside me. “A submissive has as much power as her Dom, perhaps more.” He pinches my taut nipples. My back arches, the pain sublime, and his lips curl into a smug smile. “My happiness is tied to yours.”
“That means a lot to me, sir.” I pant, savoring his words and his caring, wanting this feeling to last, to be part of my life permanently. The thought of being alone, walking away from him, is unbearable.
He snaps the cloth. The corner catches my upper thigh, and I yelp, pain radiating from the contact point. “You’re not focused, pet.” Disapproval darkens his voice.
“I’m sorry, sir.” I only wish to please him.
“Spread your legs.” He rinses the cloth thoroughly.
Oh God. He’ll wash my pussy now. I widen my stance.
He swipes the soft fabric over my pink folds, and I tremble, wanting, needing him. “Are you on birth control, pet?”
“I am, sir.” The first time the slut rumor surfaced, my father insisted on this precaution, and I was too mortified to protest.
“I wouldn’t touch you if I wasn’t one hundred percent healthy.” Logan slides one of his thick fingers into my pussy.
I clench him, craving more. “I know you wouldn’t, sir.”
He wouldn’t ever put me at risk. My billionaire strokes me, in, out, in, out, and I rock against him, my desire building.
“The next time we fuck, I’ll fill this pussy with my hot cum,” he promises.
Please let that next time be soon. I close my eyes, my world narrowing to his finger. He pumps me once, twice. I need one more.
He pulls his hand away. Mother of God. I bite back my curse, opening my eyes. The man knows how to drive me insane.
“Turn around, pet.”
I grit my teeth and obey him, turning to face the shower wall. Water flows over my skin. His hard cock brushes against my leg. I tilt my hips, opening to him, exposing both my pussy and my ass, wanting him to end my torment.
Logan ignores my offer. He brushes my hair forward, rubs the cloth over my shoulders, down my spine, between my ass cheeks. I inhale sharply. He wouldn’t, would he?
He would. I squirm with embarrassment as he circles my puckered hole.
“Stay still.” He smacks my right leg.
“Sorry, sir.” I freeze in place, my chest tightening.
“Your ass belongs to me.” He pushes against this untried entrance with his thumb. “If I want to fuck this hole today, I will.” He forces me open, the tautness spiraling my desires upward. “And you’d let me, wouldn’t you, pet? Even knowing it would hurt.” His lips hum against my earlobe. “That’s how much you trust me.”
“Yes, sir.” My body is his. Logan’s chest presses against my back, his hand is wedged between my clenched ass cheeks, his thumb inside me.
“I’d never betray that trust.” He removes his thumb and kisses this tested hole. “We’ll progress slowly over weeks of nightly encounters, perhaps months, training your ass to take my cock, using increasingly large butt plugs.”
He wants months of nightly encounters. My stomach flutters. Is that possible? “No one must know, sir.”
Logan wets a fresh cloth. “Don’t doubt your master, pet.” He scrubs my legs, warming my skin. “Hold onto the tile.”
I splay my fingers over the shower stall wall and he lifts my right foot, cleaning between each toe.
“I’m aware of your needs, all of your needs.” He pinches my insole and I dance in place, craving release. “No one will know until we want them to know.” He releases my right foot and picks up my left, thoroughly washing me.
Could we have a secret relationship, meeting daily without anyone knowing? My half-siblings, my father, others, would suspect, but they already do that. They’ve gossiped about us for months. We—
A big hand lands on my ass and I squeak, my pussy clenching, the pain returning my focus to the man behind me, to my building desire. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“I know when you’re worrying about other things, pet.” Logan drops the cloth, pours shampoo into his palm. “When you’re ignoring your master.” He lathers my hair, the coconut scent tickling my nostrils, bubbles floating around us.
I lean my head back, allowing him to care for me. My billionaire master massages my scalp, willingly serving his submissive.
“Do all Doms wash their pets’ hair, sir?”
“I’m not all Doms.” He positions me under the showerhead and threads his fingers through my hair, rinsing the shampoo. “And you’re not all pets. I like to wash your hair. You like having your hair washed. This works for us.”
“It does, sir.” It works too well, tempting me to risk everything.
Logan turns me until I face him. “It does.” He brushes a trickle of water from my forehead, his eyes soft. We gaze at each other for several moments, our naked bodies pressed together, his cock hard against my stomach.
The air around us changes. Logan’s jaw juts, his shoulders straightening, his expression hardening. I drop my gaze, his demeanor demanding my subservience. “Sir?”
“On your knees, pet. Hands behind your back.”
I obey, the wet floor as unrelenting as he is, and I look up at him, waiting for his next set of instructions. He braces his feet apart, looming over me, his wide shoulders sheltering me from the shower spray. His erection juts proudly from a base of black private curls, a bead of pre-cum glistening on his tip.
What would he taste like? I lick my lips.
“I want that pretty pink tongue on my cock, pet.”
I’ve finally earned this treat, been deemed worthy to touch him. Glowing with happiness, I lean forward, extend my tongue and tentatively swipe it over his shaft. He bobs.
This reaction makes me more brazen. I lave him from base to cock head, savoring his unique taste and scent. His musk is stronger here, more male, more primal. I trace his rim. His fingers curl into tight fists.
I flick my tongue over his slit. Oh, God. I moan. He’s delicious. I delve into his opening, seeking more of his flavor.
“My eager pet,” he murmurs, sinking his fingers into my hair. “Suck me. Take me into your hot mouth.”
I push my lips over his tip and he groans. “That’s it.” He moves forward, holding my head, forcing me to accommodate him. “Service your master.” He slides deeper and deeper. I gaze up at him, wishing to please him.
His cock head taps the back of my throat before my lips touch his base. I whimper with disappointment. He’s too big.
“You can do this, pet.” Logan tugs on my hair, tilting my head back. He nudges forward. I try not to gag, my throat convulsing around him. My chin presses against his balls.
“You took all of me.” Admiration warms his voice. “You’re so damn perfect.”
I smile around his cock, my cheeks aching, my eyes watering.
He pulls back, allowing me to breathe, to think. “I’m going to fuck your sweet mouth now.” His eyes glitter. “While you finger yourself.”
Oh, God. I quiver.
He grips my hair tighter, sending prickles of pain across my scalp. “You’re not to come until I give you permission.”
This rule remains constant. He controls my satisfaction and I love this, crave this. I nod, his cock preventing my reply.
Logan smiles. “Good girl.” He withdraws to his tip. I maintain a steady suction, not allowing him to slip from my lips.
Our gazes meet. He thrusts deep enough to tap the back of my throat. Fuck. His restraint is magnificent. I look up at my billionaire master with open admiration.
He takes the lead in this intimate dance, plunging in and out, in and out of my mouth. I suck, lick, love his shaft, and, once I grow accustomed to his rhythm, I touch myself, stroking my pussy lips, toying with my clit, our movements synchronized.
As my passion rises, so does his. Logan drives into me, using me hard, his balls swinging against my chin, his musk filling my nostrils. His grip is sure. He doesn’t allow me to retreat, clasping me to him, taking his pleasure from my willing form, freeing me to focus on my own bliss.
I pump my pussy with my fingers, matching his tempo, admiring the flex of his thigh muscles, the ripple of tanned skin over tight abs, the indents over his
hipbones. He’s a powerful man, and he’s mine. I want him permanently.
Permanently. God. I swallow and he groans, twisting his fingers in my hair. I want more than one night. I slap my tongue against the underside of his cock, rub the heel of my hand over my clit. I want a future with my billionaire.
A warmth swells over me. I care for him, too much, and I can’t walk away from him any more than I can escape my slut status. My jaw aches. My arms and legs shake.
He grunts, the cords on his neck lifting, his stark face twisted with passion. This is how much he wants me, how much I please him, this knowledge feeding my desire.
Worries about tomorrow evaporate. Staving off my orgasm occupies all of my energy. I’ll show him I’m strong, worthy of sucking his cock, of being his pet.
My pussy constricts more and more around my fingers, increasing the delectable friction, the delicious torment. Logan’s movements become equally frenzied, my controlled man losing his grip on reality.
I cross the line from pleasurable torment to pure agony. He digs his fingers into my scalp, his big body vibrating before me.
We’re torturing each other. My Dom won’t admit defeat but I can. I can ask for the release we both want. I meet his gaze, widening my eyes, silently pleading for permission.
“Perfect,” he huffs, acknowledging my request. “Come for me, pet.” Logan thrusts hard. “Come now.”
I slap my clit and break, my mind shattering, my pussy clenching my fingers, my lips closing tight around his cock. My billionaire roars, pushing deeper into my mouth, bathing my abused throat with his hot cum, rewarding me with his essence.
As my world spins around me, I swallow and swallow and swallow, coaxing every last drop from his tip, draining him dry. He shudders once, twice.
“Holy fuck,” Logan murmurs, sounding dazed. His legs buckle and he falls, his knees smacking against the tile, his cock slipping from my mouth.
That must hurt. I wince. He draws me into his fit physique, covers my lips with his, not caring that I taste of him, that his cum coats my tongue.
Moments pass. We kiss, caress, and Logan’s fingers spread over my back as though he seeks to touch as much of me as possible. The heaving of his chest levels off. My breathing slows and the room stops revolving. Rational thought returns.