Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set

by Black, Stasia

  “When we get there.” I love watching Logan eat and I’m used to going without food.

  “Okay, then you should get some rest.”

  It’s a warm day, but he still pulls out a light blanket from the back seat and arranges it over me. It’s seriously the sweetest gesture and stupidly, I tear up.

  I turn my face towards the window. People don’t do this sort of stuff for me. I’m the one who takes care of Mom, and Dad, too. He’s like me, forgetting to eat, going days without sleep. I get lost in the shuffle and it’s okay, I completely understand. He’s trying to save Mom’s life.

  But…Logan looking out for me, regardless of why he’s doing it— He’ll never know how much it means to me.

  So I curl up in the blanket and, regardless of how excited I am to spend every second possible with him, I do as he asks. I fall asleep.

  When I wake up, I can’t help my yelp of delight.

  “Oh, Logan!” I sit up straight, the blanket falling to my lap.

  The beach. He’s taken me to the beach. It’s only three hours away, but I’ve only been once before in my whole life. But then again, this is Logan Wulfe, the man of my dreams, who makes dreams come true.

  Ten

  Present Day

  Logan

  Daphne’s tied down and spread out on the table like a sacrifice on an altar. Her body is a gift to the gods, lithe and tight with the perfect amount of curves.

  Tonight I’m her god.

  She obeyed me so quickly, maybe I should go easy on her for this first trial. Her pussy pouts at me, soft and slick with wanting.

  Or maybe she obeyed because she craves this.

  I lay a hand on her flat belly and she whimpers. I chuckle, “You need this.”

  Her hips rise. “Logan, please.”

  I drop my hand and step away, clenching my hands to fists. How easily she pulls me back in. I can’t forget what this is. Well, I’ll prove it to both of us. Right here and right now. “I told you not to call me that.”

  “Master,” she pants.

  “Better. But too late.” I return with the wooden box that holds her nipple clamps. Her cries won’t move me, and certainly not my name on her lips. I’m here for one thing and one thing only. To master her. She is mine to train. Mine.

  “One day I’ll pierce you,” I murmur as I lever the clamps onto her poor nipples. Her breath hisses through her teeth, but she doesn’t beg me to remove them. “Would you like that?”

  “Whatever my Master wishes,” her voice is low and throaty. Her eyes are large and dark with pupils blown. Into subspace so soon?

  “You say that now.” I head down to the end of the table where I can lean between her legs. “I wonder if you’ll regret it when you discover what I have planned for you.” I spread her labia, inspecting her almost clinically. Her breathing ramps up and her juices pour. My fingers come away sticky. I raise my hand to my face and drink in her scent. Mouthwatering.

  “I wonder…” My finger is huge compared to her delicate parts. I use my index finger to nudge the sensitive spot next to her clitoris. How large can it get? I’m her Master and she’s my sub. My job is to take her to her limits so that’s what I’ll do.

  She twists her body, letting out a long, keening moan.

  I slap her thigh lightly. “Quiet! This isn’t for your pleasure.”

  Her cry shudders from her, her pussy growing even more wet. As if my command aroused her. She’s so responsive, so attuned to my touch.

  “I just want to see...yes…” Her clitoris is swollen stiff, peeking from its hood. “There you are.” I tickle alongside the hardened nub, driving her towards orgasm. Her panting increases, but at the last second, I stop.

  “Noooo,” Daphne moans. My own cock stiffens.

  “Silence,” I order. Oh beautiful Daphne, how much you have to learn. “If I want you to beg, I will ask for it.” I’ll gag her if necessary. She would look so beautiful, bound and gagged, green eyes begging me for relief.

  Even now her chest is flushed and heaving. The jeweled clamps twinkle with every rising and falling breath.

  I hold up the third clamp and wait for her to realize my plan. Her eyes grow huge.

  “Oh yes,” I let a wicked grin claim my lips. I can’t help it. A Master can stay in control and enjoy himself too, right? “As promised.”

  She trembles slightly as I approach with the clit clamp in hand. The one I’ve chosen is the most benign, a beginner’s clamp. A bit of lube and the teardrop head will easily fit over her clitoris, with the long wire legs clamping her labia. Several jewels hang from either end.

  “You’ll look so pretty for me. Maybe I’ll clamp you and make you serve me dinner.” A meal with her naked and panting. Whenever she bent to place food in front of me, I’d tweak the clamps tighter…

  As I fit the clamp into place, Daphne cranes her head to watch. She doesn’t seem too horrified. No, she looks fascinated.

  “My curious little deviant.”

  This is her power, isn’t it? Everywhere I lead her, she so enthusiastically follows. No hesitation. Her hips roll and the muscles of her stomach ripple. Her eyes grow hooded, her lashes fanning over her flushing cheeks.

  I’m attuned to every twitch, every hitched breath, every eyelid flutter. I am her Master, her maker.

  Her god.

  The clamp fits perfectly, squeezing her delicate flesh. The jewels hang down, tickling her perineum. The emeralds glisten with her juices.

  I bend down, intent as a scientist looking through a microscope. Watching miracles unfold. I toy with the jewels and she clenches her bottom. I blow on her clit and she rocks her hips. All the while, desperate little gasps escape her lips.

  “Poor Daphne.” I rise a moment, adjusting myself. My cock is stiff and throbbing in my pants. I’m torturing myself as much as torturing her.

  I roll up my shirt sleeves and settle in for my feast.

  At the first touch of my tongue, her back arches, her body bowing as far as she can go in the restraints. “Master,” she screams.

  My cock almost splits my pant’s seam. I nuzzle the clamp with my nose and glide my tongue over her quivering flesh.

  We groan in unison. Her sweet taste— “Heaven.”

  * * *

  Daphne

  I knew Logan would torture me when I returned, but I might not survive a day. Logan’s face is pressed between my legs, freaking eating me like he’s starving.

  My wrists are red from tugging at my bounds. I’m desperate to grab his face and grind down. I’m so close—

  Logan pulls away, wiping his face on his shirt sleeve. Leaving me on the edge. Fuck!

  “You can’t always get what you want,” Logan intones. Fucker.

  My arousal teeters on a knife edge. One side pleasure, the other side pain. Or maybe the two are one.

  But I feel a rush of gratitude. If this is all my Master will dish out, then I can take it.

  “You took your clamping well.”

  I relax at the praise. The jeweled clamp didn’t look too scary. Just a wire prong designed to squeeze my flesh a little bit. Maybe I’ll survive tonight after all.

  He adds a touch of lube and slides the prong off. The way he’s watching my face, I know something’s about to happen. And then, it does. Holy shit!

  The blood rushes back to those places.

  Oh fuck, oh fuck!

  My clit is engorged a thousand-fold. I stare down between my legs but can barely concentrate because I’m about to explode, right on the edge. It’s so close, so insane, I’ve never felt such a buildup of pleasured intensity—

  I writhe my hips this way and that, trying to get stimulation. Maybe I can catch my clit on the side of my leg—

  “Ah ah,” Logan steadies me, adding restraints that pull my legs further apart. He leaves for a moment, exiting into the shadows.

  I lay on the table, half-floating, my throbbing clit my only tether to the earthly plane, a red beacon in the blissful haze. What is it about this man
that makes me just...surrender?

  The Beast returns. He is the Beast now, fully. A mask affixed to his features. A hulk of a man, my body recognizes as Master. My toes curl at the sight of him—shirt off, muscles on display. In his hand: a black crop.

  Maybe the pain’s just begun. My heart trips over itself as he runs the black leather flap along my face and neck, tracing my collarbone, circling my breasts.

  Whap! The crop strikes the underside of my right breast. A cruel sting on my soft flesh. Why is my pussy flooding?

  Whap! Another on the inside of my thigh. A bright patch on the smooth pale skin. Why does my back arch, offering my body up?

  More soft strikes and sudden strikes. The crop rubs my pussy folds and comes away coated in moisture. Master holds it to my lips to taste. Tart and salty. Why does it taste so good?

  My body is covered with red marks. Brilliant ornaments. My Master is a genius, to paint my flesh so well. He took a blank canvas and made it beautiful. I am his masterpiece.

  “You’ve been so good.” Master’s crop nudges my pussy folds, sparking new pleasure. His voice comes from far away. “But Daphne? We’re just getting started.”

  He brings the crop down on my pussy. Thwap! Fireworks burst behind my eyes. A scream rings in my ears. My throat is raw—the sound was torn from me.

  Master strokes the leather lovingly down my legs. “I bet I could make you cum just from this. But no. You don’t deserve to cum.”

  Tears slide from my eyes, glazing a path to my temples. I want to deserve what Master gives me.

  The Beast leaves. The Beast returns. He has another gift for me in his hands. A wicked looking tweezer clamp with silicone-tipped ends. He aligns it with the seething bundle of want that is my clit. Squeezes down.

  “Oh, fuck!” I lose control of my tongue.

  “Naughty girl.” He crops my breast again, making the jewels bounce. Yes! Punish me. Make me pay. I’ll take the pain. I’ll deserve the good things I want.

  This is where I’m meant to be.

  * * *

  Logan

  Her tears don’t move me at all. Nor her breasts, reddened from the crop strikes, wearing the emeralds so proudly. Her supple thighs, shimmering with sweat and her cunt juices. Her godsdamned scent…

  I turn my back on her, turn away to adjust myself. My arousal makes me grit my teeth. I wish I could explain away my erection. I haven’t cum in a while. Wielding a crop always makes me hard. But it’s Daphne. All Daphne.

  She betrayed you. Lied to you.

  But she’s so beautiful, her tears so earnest, her face and body so...so fucking necessary. I don’t want to want her, but I do. I always have.

  “You will learn,” I growl and grit my teeth. The crop falls over and over, leaving red in its wake. She cries out, the slim column of her throat working as she labors to draw breath. She’s close to the boundaries of where I wanted to take her. Any further and there’ll be danger. Too much damage. Too much pain.

  Calm. Control. I am the Master.

  Who am I fooling? When it comes to Daphne, I am undone.

  The crop slices down, striking her between her legs. The clamp goes flying.

  Her body stiffens and a wail breaks from her, long and unending. I drop the crop and stare at her heaving body. Her eyes open wide, unseeing, her fingers clenching and unclenching as her orgasm goes on and on.

  She just came from excruciating pain.

  She’s one in a billion. But then, she always was.

  Eleven

  7 Years Ago

  Daphne

  “You drove for three hours? To take me to the beach?” I’m still incredulous.

  Logan just shrugs. “So let’s enjoy it.”

  Now I’m speechless. But he’s already out of the truck, popping his seat and pulling things out of the small compartment behind it. Beach towels. A full backpack. Our lunch.

  I only realize that I’m still sitting there, stunned, when he glances my way and smirks. “You just gonna sit there or you coming?”

  I shove my door open and hop out of the car.

  By the time I come around to him, he’s pulling things out of the backpack.

  “Here, there’s some bathrooms over there where you can go change.” He hands me a bag.

  I grab it and look inside. Holy crap, he bought me a bathing suit. I pull it out excitedly…until I realize it’s a one-piece, and not just a one-piece, but one that looks like it was designed a hundred years ago. It even has a little skirt at the bottom. Does he think I’m five?

  I glance over to where he said I could change. It’s a sunny day in mid-summer and the beach is buzzing with people. And right beside the restrooms is a little shop.

  I smile breezily up at Logan. “I’ll be right back.”

  “I’ll go find us a place on the beach,” he says.

  “Perfect.”

  He walks me to the bathrooms, then continues on to the beach. I wait until he’s out of sight, then duck inside the small shop.

  They don’t have a huge selection of bikinis, but I find one that will do. It’s bright red and while it covers the important bits, it also shows plenty of skin. After I buy it along with some flip-flops, I change in the bathroom. But I only dare a few seconds of looking at myself in the mirror.

  I’ve never worn anything so skimpy in my entire life. And I’m going to go spend the day with Logan in this thing?

  Maybe I should abandon ship and just put on the swimsuit he brought for me.

  But then I hold up the shapeless, dark, unflattering thing, and with one last glance in the mirror at all my curves on display in the red bikini, toss the other swimsuit in the trash and head out the door.

  Confident. Wear the swimsuit, don’t let the swimsuit wear you.

  The only way Logan will ever start to see me as a woman is if I act like one. But crap, how do women act? I don’t know any women other than Mom, and she’s so sick…

  I blink away the thought. Gods, it’s horrible, but for one day I want to just be a girl at the beach with a cute guy. It’s a terrible thought to have. I’m a terrible person for having it.

  By then I’ve walked down the little path and I see Logan in the distance. He’s standing with his hand over his eyes looking my way. He doesn’t realize it’s me until I get really close, though. Understandably, since he’s looking for a dowdy girl in that terrible swimsuit.

  When I wave and he finally realizes that I’m the one walking up to him, red bikini and all, he does a double take. And then he swallows really hard.

  “What are you wearing?” he demands in a voice harsher than I’ve ever heard from him.

  It makes me bite my lip for a second, but then I straighten my spine.

  “I’m supposed to get Vitamin D, right? I can’t do that if I’m all covered up. I picked this up at the little shop.”

  He looks away towards the ocean, his jaw tensing so hard, I can see a vein on his neck popping out. He gives a single sharp nod.

  Things are tense for a few moments as I settle myself on the towel beside him. He sits at the furthest edge of the towel from me, half on the sand. And he won’t look at me.

  But that’s okay, because it gives me the opportunity to look at him.

  I didn’t realize it earlier, but the shorts he was wearing were swim trunks, so all he had to do was take off his shirt.

  And holy moly.

  He’s not huge or anything. He actually looks younger without his shirt on. I bet when he’s older he’ll be big—his shoulders are already really wide but they haven’t quite filled in all the way.

  But he’s still so much bigger than me. And there’s this crazy sexy dusting of hair across his pecs.

  Sexy.

  That is the word for Logan Wulfe. He. Is. So. Sexy.

  He’s leaning back casually on his elbows, the salty wind blowing in his hair, his tan skin shining in the sun.

  My stomach swoops with feelings I’ve never felt before. All I know is that I want to crawl on top of h
im. I want to bury my face against his chest and have him wrap those arms around me.

  The swoopy, liquid feeling in my tummy zings lower, between my legs and I inhale sharply, which makes Logan look my way.

  Our eyes catch. Oh crap, oh crap, can he tell what I’m thinking? Does he know I’ve just been ogling him for the past five minutes and that I’m having sexy feelings about him?

  Is it just me feeling like there’s a sizzling intensity in his eyes as we continue to lock gazes? Am I imagining his nostrils flaring? His eyes darkening? Could he possibly feel even a morsel of what I’m feeling back?

  “Want to go for a swim?” he finally says, his words an explosion of air as he hops up from the blanket. “I’m going for a swim.”

  He’s already walking away from me before I can agree and jump up to join him.

  But he slows down as I hurry after him and he holds out a hand to me as I unsteadily follow him into the water.

  “You’ve swam in the ocean before, right?” he checks.

  “Once. A long time ago. I was a kid though and it was mainly splashing on the shore.”

  He mutters something under his breath, I think about my dad, but then he moves closer. “Stay beside me.”

  I nod as we move into the water up to our hips and the incoming waves are stronger.

  “Okay, now let's start to swim. Once we get past that break it should settle out.”

  I nod as he lets go, following him and abandoning my feet on the ground as we start to swim along the shoreline.

  The ocean swells with a small wave, but we swim through it and avoid the whitewater of the break.

  “You’re doing great,” he encourages.

  The truth is I’d be terrified if I was out here by myself. But with him, I feel invincible.

  We don’t go far and he warns me about undercurrents. We hang out and I’m exhilarated by riding the swells of the waves.

  “Oh my gosh, here comes a big one. Logan, look how big it is!”