“Is that why you no longer remain true to your vow?”
“What vow?” I cry out, finding the strength to rise to my knees.
“To remain pure.” He seizes my shoulders. “Tell me, Daphne, why, after all these years, do you whore yourself for a rich man?”
I twist out of his hold. “I don’t whore myself to anyone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“No? The nights out? The fine dining, the symphony? When did you spread your legs for him… after he gave you this?” He grasps the necklace I wear. The chain digs into my neck and I cry out, flailing at his arms.
“Stop it! My mother gave me this, you…you Beast.”
“Beast.” He lets me go and I fall back, tucking the rose charm away. “Fitting. I suppose that’s how you see me.”
“You’re crazy.” My voice is shaking. I was stupid to let down my guard with him, even for a second. “You’re a Beast because you act like one.” I run a hand through my hair. Why am I even bothering to explain? “I don’t care how you look.”
He tilts his head. I stare until his features blur, wishing again for my glasses. Something about his face is familiar…
“Don’t care about looks?” he asks bitterly. “Only how much money a guy has?”
I raise my chin. “You don’t know me.”
“I know you better than anyone else does.” His words echo in my head, triggering deja vu. I tilt my head, chasing the memory, but it disappears.
“What do you know about me?” At some point in the past moments, I’ve taken his hand. He turns my pale one over his, studying it as if it’s a bird flown into his hands, fragile and precious.
“You’ve always tried to be what your father wanted. But you’re more than that.”
I close my eyes, remembering another time, another moment, another man telling me these things. But that man was kind, gentle. Nothing like the Beast.
“What did my father want me to be?”
“Hope. A lifeline. A savior. But he failed.”
I flinch, drawing my hand back.
“You both did.”
I stare at the fire. “You’re speaking of my mother.”
“Yes.”
“We tried to save her.”
“It wasn’t your burden.”
“Yes it is.”
“Why? Because you can profit from it?” he sneers.
“What happened to you?” I ask, rising up on my knees before him. “Who hurt you?”
His face hardens. “They took everything from me.”
“Who? My father?” When he doesn’t answer, I add, “Adam?”
Large hands close over my shoulders, shaking me hard. “Do not speak his name!” he roars.
“Please,” I cry. “I’m not with Adam. I never have been.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Now the Beast is on his feet, tugging me up. Oh gods, will he put me back in the tower?
“Please, I just want to understand—” I plead as he drags me down the hall. Past the door that leads to the tower. I relax, only to stiffen again when he drags me to another door, and down a dark staircase. The temperature begins to drop again. “You’re scaring me!”
“He won’t ever have you.”
“Where are you taking me?” I all but shriek as he leads me down the freezing stone corridor, holding my upper arm in a vice grip.
“Finding out the truth since I can’t trust a word from your lips,” he growls, shoving open a heavy wooden door and dragging me into a dark room.
He lets go of me only once we’re inside. For a second, I’m left breathing hard in the pitch black. Gods, does he mean to lock me in here?
But then he flips on the lights.
“On the bed,” he demands.
I freeze. Every muscle in my body freezes. “Y-You’re not serious,” I stutter as I take in the stark, almost medieval looking room. Stone floors. Stone walls. The only exception to the monastery design?
The medical bed in the center of the room. Complete with restraints.
He gets in my face, his dark brown eyes burning. “Just how far are you willing to go to save your father’s company?”
I glare up at him. “You want me to say it’s okay for you to tie me down and rape me?”
“No,” he chokes out, sounding furious. “I’m a doctor and I want you to prove you haven’t been whoring yourself out to Adam Archer, as you claim.”
My mouth drops open as he continues. “You can walk out that door right now if you want, princess.” His massive arm shoots out and points towards the door we just came in through.
Damn him. Gods damn him.
“You’re a sick fuck,” I spit in his face. And then I stomp towards the bed and lay down, my arms crossed stubbornly over my chest.
There’s a beat of silence, and then his footsteps sound on stone as he follows. I force myself not to close my eyes as he looms over me. The other thing about the room that’s modern: the lights overhead. There’s plenty of light.
So much light that when the Beast—what I’ve taken to calling him in my head—reaches into a cabinet underneath the bed and pulls out scissors, I can see exactly what he’s doing.
And when he proceeds to reach for the hem of my sweater and starts to cut it up the middle, I know he can see all of me as he exposes me to the open air.
My eyes shoot to his as my breaths get shorter but he seems suddenly calm. Clinical? No, just extremely focused on what he’s doing, I think. This is officially the craziest freaking thing that I’ve ever done in my life. How the hell did I get myself into this situation?
I’m not sure of anything at the moment, but before I even really wrap my head around what’s happening, he’s opened my top and exposed my bra.
My breath hitches and his eyes finally move up and meet mine. All the hostility from moments earlier is gone. There’s…gentleness there? No, that can’t be right. He’s a beast. A monster who’s threatening everything—
“I won’t hurt you,” he says, his voice still gruff but softer than I’ve ever heard it. And then his huge, warm hand takes my wrist, drawing my arm away from my body. He peels my now open sweater off of my arm and then, slowly, gently, his eyes still on mine, he lifts my arm above my head and secures it in a padded wrist restraint.
He leans in close as he does it and when I next breathe in, all I inhale is…him. Pine and leather, but warmed by his body heat…it’s like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. My body wakes up at the scent and I blink in confusion as he secures my other wrist.
“W-why do you have to tie me down?” I ask breathily, trying to gather my wits back.
“No questions,” he says and I’m stupidly relieved at his answer. What if for once, for once in my whole stupid life, I didn’t question everything to death? What if…what if I just let this…happen? Would it really be so bad to just, I don’t know, give up trying to control everything for once?
So I don’t complain or question as he moves down my body with those damnable scissors of his and cuts my leggings off. The soft material gives easily and soon he’s pulling the shredded material from my body. I shiver, left only in my panties and bra. It’s cold in the room, there’s no denying that. But…I don’t think that’s where the soul-deep quiver is coming from.
I’ve never been naked in front of a man before.
The Beast can think whatever he wants, but I’m a virgin in every sense of the word. I’ve never done…anything. Ever.
And his eyes aren’t gentle looking anymore. They’re heated and his nostrils flare as his eyes scan up and down my body. He’s looking at me like…like the way a man looks at a woman. He’s not trying to hide it. He wants me. Wants me like that.
He runs his huge hand down my thigh, pausing on my knee, and then down my calf to my ankle. My ankle has never looked more petite or delicate than when in his giant hand.
I can only watch, mesmerized for some reason, as he pulls out stirrups from the bottom of the bed and sets my left foot in them, and then repe
ats the same ritual with my right. I’ve never been so, well, manhandled, before.
You should be afraid right now. You should be kicking and screaming.
But his touch continues to be delicate as he skims his fingertips back up my leg, and then up the hollow of my stomach, between my ribs, and finally to my sternum and up to the little bow on the front of my bra in the valley between my medium-sized breasts.
My breath hitches again—good gods, have I taken a full breath since he put his hands on me?—as his deft fingers undo the snap right above the tiny silver bow. The next second, my breasts spring free and my nipples immediately pucker in the cold air.
He’s standing close enough that I can hear his breath catch. And he’s so solid, so huge, so masculine and warm and so sure in his movements—it’s ridiculous to be comforted by him… But I am. I’m naked and vulnerable and he’s clothed and warm and my body instinctively turns towards him.
His eyes shoot towards mine, obviously surprised at my movement. Yeah, buddy, me too. I blink but don’t look away. He’s the one to break eye contact first, but I quickly discover it’s only so he can get back to his work. I soon hear the snip of the scissors again and then my panties, my last bit of coverings, are falling away.
Instinctively, I try to lock my knees together but the Beast whispers, “Shhh, open to me like the beautiful rose you are.”
And then his hands, those sinful hands of his, are skimming down my thighs again. Except that this time, they move right back up along the inside of my thighs as he moves around the bed from my side to—I suck in a deep gulp—to in between the stirrups.
His huge hands gently caress my knees.
Then he pries them apart.
And I let him. Oh gods, I let him.
His thumbs immediately go there. To my…my private places. I jerk in my restraints as his thumbs massage along the outer lips of my…my sex.
“I’d prefer to use your natural lubricant to examine you,” he murmurs. “Give me your juices, Daphne.”
I nod because I don’t trust myself to manage words. But to be honest, I’m not completely sure what he’s talking about. I mean, I sort of know the biology of, well, sex. My face flushes even thinking the word. But I just don’t— I mean, I don’t have time for that sort of—
Okay, so a couple of times I tried touching myself but I’m usually so tired and I was never sure if I was doing it right anyway. So I always gave up before anything really happened. There were always so many more important things to attend to anyway. Who cared if I never figured out sex when I was trying to save people’s lives?
But the Beast’s fingers aren’t clumsy like mine were the couple times I attempted to touch myself. He’s sure, in command, and more than that, demanding as one hand continues to play with my sex and the other presses flat up my stomach back to the valley of my breasts. But this time, he strays from the beaten path.
He cups my breast. I’m dwarfed in his hand, but when his thumb strums over my nipple I don’t feel lacking. My back arches off the table into his touch and as if it’s instinctual, he pinches my nipple harder.
And that lubricant he was talking about? It fairly gushes all over his other hand.
“That’s right,” he growls, sounding more like his old self as the hand at my sex probes between my now-soaking folds.
My breaths come in short, shallow pants. “What’s happening?” Pleasure shoots from my breast to my sex and my stomach liquifies and swoops. Gods, I’ve never felt anything like this before.
His hand grips my breast harder. “Don’t mock me. No one’s that innocent.”
But the more pressure he applies, the more the pleasure intensifies. My hands ball into fists and I want to scream at him to keep touching me, to keep going. My sex clenches as his thick forefinger teases at my entrance.
I think… I think I want him to push his finger inside. I want something inside me. He strums his thumb across the flesh about an inch above the opening and if I thought I was on fire before, “Oh!” I cry, a shudder wracking my body. No, I don’t just want something inside me to clench around, I need it. I’ve never— This is—
“Please,” I whimper, not really knowing what I’m begging for, but knowing he can give it to me.
Through slitted eyes, I see confusion on his face, but then his expression hardens and he gives me what I’ve asked for.
He plunges a finger inside me.
It hurts and feels amazing at the same time. I blink at all the sensations assaulting me. A man has his fingers inside me. He’s penetrating me. He’s…he’s finger-fucking me. I shudder at the dirtiness of the thought and the feel of his digit impaled inside me.
“Daphne,” he cries, voice choked. “You’re a virgin.”
I want to laugh. He sounds so shocked.
“I know,” is all I say.
Though, am I still technically a virgin now? I mean, did his finger rupture my hymen? He shoved it in so forcefully.
I clench around his finger. I’ve become acclimated to it and now I want him to move it. If he did break my hymen, then surely this was much nicer than having a huge cock do the work—surely that would hurt a lot more. This was just a short little pinch and now I want him to explore.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he whispers, starting to remove his finger.
“Don’t,” I whisper and his eyes shoot to mine. I can’t quite bear that. This is all too new, I’m feeling too many things. Eye contact seems like too much.
But still, I manage to continue. “Not yet?” It comes out as more of a question and then I stupidly follow it up with, “um…please?”
But the reward comes so quickly I’ll happily beg again. Besides, when was the last time I asked for something I wanted? Something just for me? But this…this is a space out of time, out of my regular life.
The finger inside me begins to move. Slowly. Languorously.
“You’ll get your reward now,” he whispers. “You’ll get your reward for staying pure for me. Tell me, little Daphne, do you touch yourself when you’re all alone in the dark?”
I shake my head. “A couple of times, but it never felt like this.”
His nostrils flare again. “Good girl. Good, good girl. You never touch yourself. I’m the only one who touches you. Ever. Do you understand? I’m the only one who touches this pretty, pretty pussy.”
My sex clenches around his finger at the dirty word. Pussy. Another shudder of pleasure runs through me.
“Oh, you like that,” he croons. “You want me to master your pussy and your pleasure. Your sweet little cunt is so creamy for me.”
And then he leans down between my legs and inhales. Aghast at his action, I try to shove my legs together but his huge, broad shoulders are wedged between my legs and it's no use.
“Uh uh uh,” he chastises me. “I’ll smell your sweet cunt all I want. I’ll wake up, tie you down, and lap at your delicious smelling cunt for breakfast if I want to. And you’ll let me, won’t you. You’ll beg me to.”
I’ve never heard such filthy words in my entire life. And the way my body responds? Oh gods. I’d be embarrassed if he didn’t seem to be getting off on my every reaction, too.
Every little whimper I make, he inhales and his chest seems to expand even more, as impossible as that seems since he’s already so huge.
But it’s like he’s feeding off my energy, and the synergy we’re creating is the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s a high I didn’t know could exist, and I can’t escape the whirlwind—don’t want to escape, oh gods, I never want to come down.
Especially because it’s still ramping up. That slow, torturous finger moving in and out of me plus his thumb, oh, that wicked, wicked thumb of his, plus the hand massaging my breast and tweaking my nipple—I thought it was a myth that breasts could arouse a woman. But I was wrong. Oh, I was so, so wrong.
And everything he’s doing to me is so, so right.
“Yes,” I cry out, grinding my hips into his hand in an in
stinctual motion as my mouth goes dry from panting. “Please, yes.”
“That’s right,” he grinds out, “beg for it. Beg for me.”
“Please, please.” My hands clench around the material of my restraints. I have to grab something, need something to ground me as my body spirals out of my control. It’s his, he’s the commander and master of my body now. It’s going where he takes it.
He leans between my legs and inhales my scent and it’s the dirtiest and hottest thing I’ve witnessed yet, this godly, masculine man of all men, scenting me at my most secret place. And then he breathes out on me, blowing the warm air from his lungs in a warm stream across my sex, making me tremble. He redoubles his efforts on the bundle of nerves at the top of my sex at the same time he massages me deep within and it’s too much— It’s—
“Ohhhhh!” I cry as the volcano that’s been stewing inside me finally erupts.
I want to clench him to me as white light engulfs me and shock waves blast outwards from my center, singeing me from my scalp to the tips of my fingertips and toes.
One wave…and then another and…oh gods another.
My legs spasm as yet one more wave hits. The restraints hold me down so all I can do is look at my Beast with all the longing and euphoria I feel.
His eyes are wide and satisfied and…shocked.
I don’t think he expected this any more than I did.
As the last bit of pleasure spasms and then ekes out of my body, my limbs sink limp to the table and I feel like I’ve expended every ounce of energy I ever had. But it’s not like at the end of an exhausting all-nighter at the lab. I feel…sated. And so, so satisfied. Like, I didn’t even know the meaning of the word satisfaction before this moment.
I breathe out every ounce of tension and sink into the table, goosebumps rising from the cold hitting my sweat-drenched body. I couldn’t care less.
For once in my life, all my thousands of worries and concerns are quiet. It’s so blissfully quiet in my head. I sink into the beautiful silence. Gods, I want to live here. I’m so tired of carrying everything. I want to just put it all down.
So I sink into the silence, so much so that I barely feel the hands undoing the restraints on my wrists and ankles.
Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set Page 6