Compulsion: A Dark Billionaire Romance (#hot_feelings #1)

by Caroline Day

  ‘By the way, you’ve got a parcel,’ Andrew nods at a box on the table.

  Damn it! This is the thing the stranger told me about. Sullivan, I mean. Well, I guess I should better call him stranger. How many times have I thought about this? It doesn't matter. Anyway, he asked me to pick up the package in person. What if he finds out that it was Andrew?

  ‘Thank you,‘ I grab the box and go to the bathroom. I'd rather open it while there are no people around.

  The box is pretty small, just like the previous one, and I suspect what might be inside.

  ‘Put the thing between your sweet flaps before going to University. Put on a dress and stockings. You will have an unforgettable encounter,’ says the note that I found in the box together with a boxed vibro-bullet.

  Andrew's assumption that I won't have any encounters with Mr. Sullivan today goes to hell, since this message suggests otherwise. We will meet up, not just run into each other by chance in the University, but merge into a single whole. I wonder what task he will give me today? I hope we're not going to have sex at uni!

  I follow all the instructions of the stranger, place the oblong vibro-bullet between my flaps, put on my panties and leave for the University. Andrew doesn't notice my agitation, nor does he see how I blush when the steel first cools my skin and then warms up to my body temperature. He comes off the mirror only when his hair is set, and the famous bear hat is on his head. The guy gives me a bewildered look as I put on a dress.

  ‘Why are you dressing up like that? Don't tell me you’re going to put on makeup for the next hour!’ he grumbles. He should better keep silent! He spent a good deal of time in front of the mirror myself while I was sleeping and washing.

  ‘Don't worry. It takes a few minutes.’

  Indeed, I managed to do it quickly – I used makeup to conceal traces of insomnia, made my eyes shine, highlighting them with eyeliner and mascara, and painted my lips with matte scarlet. We finally leave the Dorm.

  My fear increases every minute that brings my friend and me closer to the uni. The fear of giving myself away, fear of the task that must be completed... The fear of Sullivan, his dark predatory eyes... The fear of the beast that devours me... Yes, I am scared.

  ‘How is your friend, by the way?’ I hear Andrew’s voice through the haze of haunting thoughts.

  ‘Are you talking about Alice?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I saw her recently. She got pregnant and broke up with her boyfriend.’

  ‘Really?’ he’s pretending to be surprised. He remembers her from high school, just like me. ‘It serves her right!’

  ‘Oh come on. It's not her fault, it's the way things are. You know, I want...’

  And then I remember that I promised to help her. But what can I do? Should I offer her to move to the Dorm, or give her some money? I think the last idea would be more appropriate. Honestly, I was going to use this money to buy out my parents' house.

  I guess I've been too hasty with my promise to lend Alice money. What's stopping me, though? She helped me to get the job, gave me her outfit, so I probably owe her. I must return her clothes, by the way. Unfortunately, I forgot about that when she texted me.

  ‘So what? What do you want?’ Andrew snaps me out of the daydream.

  ‘I want to lend her money for raising the child.’

  ‘Are you crazy?’ my friend flares up. Even in the noisy subway, his voice sounds like thunder, and people turn the faces to us. ‘She embroiled you into this shit called escort, and you are going to give her a helping hand? Really? Does charitable giving make you feel great?’

  ‘She is pregnant!’

  ‘You don't say! Have you seen any papers? A medical examination report? She’s probably pretty rich and makes money on fools like you!’

  ‘What was she doing in that filthy room in the suburbs then?’

  ‘I told you, she takes advantage of your credulity. You are not listening to me! Have you forgotten how she treated you at school?’

  No, I remember that very well. But we brought up the topic neither at the restaurant when we met the first time, nor yesterday when I tried to comfort her.

  ‘These are mistakes of the past, Andrew. She is a different person now.’

  ‘Look,’ he blurts out when we get off the subway. ‘That's up to you, but don't you dare lend her too much money. Let her solve her problems herself. She helped you find a job, so you can do the same for her.’

  What a brilliant idea! I should call Melanie and inquire about vacancies. They pay well in the restaurant. Alice can make enough money to carry pregnancy to term and give birth to a baby. What then? I hope she'll figure it out for herself.

  Meanwhile, we approach the University, go up to the third floor, to Mrs. Thompson's office, and get stuck in a huge crowd of students. Everyone is searching for his name on the list of examinees.

  ‘Hi guys!’ Eleanor Button exclaims, breaking out of the crowd to join us. ‘You won't believe it! I got it! I got the highest grade in the semester exam!’

  Well, she’s right, that's fantastic! She's never got a grade higher than a ‘C’.

  ‘Hey, you’ve got ‘A’, too!’ she adds, ‘Congratulations, Lo!’

  No way! I’ve never been a crammer, and I usually got average grades, but excitement along with disbelief makes me push people away and search for my name in the list. That’s true, I have A grades mostly! Andrew is less lucky: he’s even got a few ‘C’ grades.

  ‘Miss Brown, I’ve been looking for you!’ as I break away from the crowd of fellow students, Mrs. Thompson approaches me with a pleased expression on her face. ‘Come into my office.’

  I follow her, leaving Andrew behind.

  ‘Dolores,’ Mrs. Thompson begins, sitting down at the table. ‘My colleagues and I discussed your situation and collected some money for your brother's treatment.’ The woman hands me a large envelope. ‘I hope that's enough to pay the bills.’

  The first question that comes to mind: ‘Where were you six months ago when he was dying and I was seeking extra ways to make money?’ Then other thoughts start running through my head: ‘Why didn’t you care when he desperately needed to take chemotherapy? Why didn't you think of this when I was seeking help from you?’

  Well, I am impressed that Mrs. Thompson and other professors finally decided to take care of Adam, but it’s way too late.

  ‘Thank you very much, but I've already paid for Adam's surgery. He comes back to University next year.

  Mrs. Thompson looks at me, surprised, then quickly regains her composure and says:

  ‘Well, that’s great!’ she claps her hands and pulls the envelope back, smiling happily. ‘Then I wish his recovery soon after this big surgery,’ she says, and gets back to her papers, leaving me totally bewildered.

  I just can't wrap my head around all the news and things that occur... Well, I'm glad someone took care of Adam and me, but...

  Something is wrong. I have a weird feeling. This weirdness is still haunting me as I go back to the hall. The crowd has thinned out, and familiar faces dispersed throughout the University. I wonder where Andrew is. Did he leave to celebrate the end of the semester without me?

  Wzzz...

  Oh my! What's that? My phone is silent and I hear a sound of vibration somewhere around.

  Wzzz...

  It increases, becomes stronger, and heat starts spreading between my legs. Damn it! It takes me a moment to realize that my gait has become uneven because of the vibro bullet. I jump up in surprise when the fleeting heat pierces the most sensitive cells of my body.

  Oh...

  It starts vibrating again, and another wave of heat washes over me. The cycles are getting longer and more intensive. I wonder how he controls the thing. Or did I occasionally push some button that can't be turned off? Vibrobullet touches the tip of my clitoris, makes my flaps wet. A few more cycles, and my panties will become completely wet. Heck! If anyone notices, they'll laugh at me. I can't struggle with these waves
of excitement. Oh my, what he’s doing to me...

  It takes me a while to realize that I’ve got a message. Even two messages!

  Andrew: ‘Lo, we are on the way to my bar. Meet you there when you’re finished. Be careful – Sullivan's at the Uni.’

  He shouldn't have mentioned the professor, since the second message confirms my assumption.

  Anonymous: ‘Go forward and don't look back. Go to the ladies' room, take the leftmost stall by the window, close the door. Turn your back to the door and wait. Don't cum!’

  Another weak vibro-wave forces me to bring my legs together, my knees are quaking. What have I done? Well, do I really have a choice when he orders? No! I have to go. Follow the rules of his game. Wait for him at the designated place.

  For the first time in my life, I disobey my master’s order and go in a completely different direction, trying to ignore the vibration between my legs. I follow the man clutching the phone. I just follow the stranger's scent that had permeated my lungs during our encounters. The man walks straight down the hall, barely paying attention to the students.

  ‘Mr. Sullivan,’ I yell at the professor's back, making not only him but most of the students in the hall turn to me. Girls look at me with hatred, but I don't care, even if their sinister eyes burn me to ashes.

  ‘Good morning, Dolores,’ the professor says politely, giving me a curious look from head to toe. At this point vibro-bullet stops the sweet torture. ‘I saw that you passed my exam perfectly. Congratulations.’

  ‘No more games, please,’ I whisper since I don't want others to hear us. We are standing at a decent distance that would never let anyone suspect us of being lovers. I doubt he heard my question.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Don't pretend you don't know what I mean. I texted you yesterday.’

  ‘I think you're a little confused,’ the professor looks at me, puzzled, then gives me a charming smile. ‘You may have been overworked during the session. I hope you have a good rest over the Christmas holidays,’ he turns away and walks away.

  Well, he’s not going to reveal our relationship. Apparently, Sullivan prefers the role of a mysterious stranger, while I have to be an obedient student. But when dark silk blinds me again...

  I suddenly notice a piece of silk ribbon in the pocket of his jeans. Black silk. He’s waiting for me. He knows I broke the rules, and will definitely punish me if I don't rush the designated place.

  Chapter 20.

  The stall is not as dark as it initially seemed. Street light penetrates the room. I am standing with my back to the door, as I was told, looking at the black-and-white tile pattern.

  Ladies' room is not the best place for encounters – students are scurrying back and forth. They will notice him, and I will hear either a loud exclamation or his footsteps in utter silence.

  Vibration becomes more intensive, and another wave of heat washes over me. It lasts for ages, and my feeble legs can't support my overexcited body anymore. Even when my right hand reaches a cool wall for support, I still fear I'm going to collapse. I am about to black out. I’m losing my mind.

  He asked not to cum, but my hand gets into the panties, trying to deliver the long-awaited pleasure. I take my hand away, trying to suppress my desire. It takes so much effort that I don't notice that the door has opened. His movements are too sudden and sharp, as if the man wants to take me by surprise, disgrace me, put me in the pillory.

  I want to look back, ensure that it was just another student, but I don't get the opportunity to see the visitor since he fixes the back of the head rigidly.

  ‘Don't turn around,’ a familiar voice whispers hoarsely.

  I hear the sound of the latch locking, muffled as if it is separated by a thick layer of water. All my senses are focused on his presence. He's standing close to me, his body pressed against mine. Buttons of his jacket dig into my dress, into my skin. I feel them through the fabric. A strong hand covers my waist, strokes it, moves up to my breasts. Squeezes the big globes, touches my nipples.

  He has long, smooth fingers that could belong to a musician. A small, barely noticeable scar on the thumb between the upper and lower phalanges… But my observation over the man's hand ends off when he turns vibro-bullet on full, and his lips lustfully touch my neck, as if he is seeking not pleasure, but my blood. Like a vampire.

  ‘Ah...’

  ‘Hush!’ the man whispers roughly, squeezing me tighter in his arms. ‘We are not alone. Your fellow students can hear us.’

  Again, hard kisses sweep down my neck, hands pull the dress off my shoulders, pull down the bra straps. I am melting, forgetting myself. I stop thinking about the past and the future that makes me feel insecure. Only the present moment matters now – his lips seduce me and force me into vices.

  ‘I want to...’ I’m about to look back, forgetting my promise, but...

  ‘Don't turn around!’ he hisses. ‘Be quiet, or I’ll punish you!’

  He quickly lifts up my skirt, pulls my panties down, takes away the vibro-bullet, and penetrates into me abruptly. He's moving too fast, too aggressive. He knocks the air out of my lungs. I can't restrain myself anymore. It's too difficult. Unbearable. Too tight. Too hot. Heating.

  I don't try to turn my head anymore; on the contrary, I close my eyes and allow myself to sink down on his strong chest and shoulders. I let his hands squeeze my body; I let him do whatever he wants. I follow his rules and play by the rules. It should be this way. He orders me, and it makes me horny.

  ‘Good girl,’ he whispers after a sharp stop. Damn it! I want more. More...

  A familiar darkness of the black silk covers my eyes, and then he turns me around and presses against the cool wall.

  The man's strong hands easily pull my dress down to my waist, and leaving me half-naked in my underwear. A wet path runs from my ear to the left cup of my black lace bra. He pushes aside the interfering fabric and barely touches the sharp tip of the nipple with his tongue. He is playing with me, teasing me. Then he abruptly pulls it into his mouth and bites it gently. He barely touches me, doesn't try to make me horny again, doesn't put his fingers into my body, but he knows very well that I am wet and will eagerly let him in.

  ‘Ah...’

  ‘Shut up!’

  Sorry, I can’t keep quiet anymore! Yes, I can't restrain myself anymore. The thought that we can be caught any minute makes me extremely horny. Over there, behind the thin wall of the stall, the local gossips are probably standing, talking about us, while I'm here, in a narrow room, dying and rising again and again. I barely hold back the moans that are about to come out of my mouth, I bite my fist, sinking my teeth into it with all my strength. But it doesn’t help. That’s not enough.

  The stranger stands still again, stops sweet manipulations with my flesh and deprives me of the heat of his body.

  ‘Cuddle me,’ he croaks barely louder than a whisper, but not so loud that they could hear him, and presses on my shoulders.

  I get down on my knees carefully, holding him by the hands so I don't fall off. Uncertainty makes me excited, and at the same time the thought that I have to follow his orders turns me on. My knees are on the tile floor, and I feel warmth against my lips, heat radiated by the velvet skin.

  I've already mentioned that my first boyfriend and I tried lots of things together, including blowjob. So I'm not afraid. I don't hesitate to please both of us. I behave like a lousy whore and feel the similar way but I don't care.

  I touch the bell-end with the tip of my tongue, then slowly wrap my lips around it, licking off the salty sticky substance. Our juices mixed together. He has no condom today, but it doesn't matter. I am fully immersed in the process, my power over his arousal. I suck him in, then let him out, trying not to smack aloud.

  ‘Deeper,’ the man croaks, putting a strong hand on my head. He squeezes the hair at the back of my head, but doesn't push.

  I haven't practiced for a long time, but I still manage to swallow him down almost in
the whole, and feel a slight tickle in my throat. I feel dirty like a bitch, dirty and excited. At some point, I feel a lack of air, I want to get rid of his dick, catch my breath, but...

  ‘Breathe through your nose.’

  I do as he says and finally restore my breathing. I stick out my tongue and stroke his testicles carefully, so as not to trigger the gag reflex again, but I am doing fine this time. I release my throat from his impressive dick, exhale, and start caressing him with my mouth again.

  ‘You are a sweet girl.’

  His fingers barely touch my hair, keep sliding to my face. They stroke my cheek as if I am his obedient pet, his thumb lingers on my lower lip. I feel like when we met the first time, when I was sitting on his lap with my shirt unbuttoned, cowering in fear. Now this feeling is replaced by the overwhelming sexual excitement.

  The stranger suddenly leans forward. He is fucking me in the mouth, moving his hips back and forth. He's acting brazenly and blatantly. His palm grabs my hair again and does not allow me to escape of his dick. I cling to his strong thighs and viciously push my lips against his dick.

  I shouldn't enjoy it, but my body doesn't care. It yearns for caresses, for the stimulation of sensitive spots on my flesh. I wish I could look at his face, see whether he liked it or not, observe the intensity of desire in his dark eyes.

  Desire to possess me in all possible ways and enjoy my voluntary submission...

  ‘Stand up.’

  The man lifts me off my knees, grabs my ass, and leans me against the cool wall again. He penetrates into me with a sharp push, making me scream and bite my fist so that no one could hear us. He stops abruptly. Damn it! Could he stop a bit later?

  ‘Do you want to cum?’ he hisses in my ear, tucking a stray lock of hair behind it. How thoughtful of him!

  ‘Yes…’

  ‘I don't hear you.’

  ‘Yes!

  I feel his irregular breathing on my lips. Heat. Attraction. I try to give him this deliberately.

  ‘Then cum!’

  He moves his hips wildly, screwing his dick into me with sharp, rapid thrusts to the full length, and closes my mouth with his palm. I start screaming loud. But his palm muffles it, making it sound like whining of a beaten dog. It doesn't matter what people will think, I don't care that slapping of our bodies and muffled moans might be heard to others. Because I feel good. I enjoy every moment now. With him.