Home > At His Command (The Billionaire's Beck and Call #3)(3)

At His Command (The Billionaire's Beck and Call #3)(3)
Author: Delilah Fawkes

My screams echoed off the walls, filling my ears.

***

I lay limp in Mr. Drake’s strong arms as he carried me into the dungeon, sweaty and wrung out from my orgasms.

The door closed behind us, and he whispered in my ear. “What’s your safe word?”

“Ramen,” I said, grinning against his shoulder, thinking of the day he’d ripped my shirt off after I spilled ramen noodles down my front.

His low laugh made his chest rumble against my cheek. “Ramen, it is.”

He stopped in front of a swing suspended from the ceiling by heavy duty metal hooks, the leather straps on the side ending in cuffs that I eyed with longing. Mr. Drake lifted me into it as if I weighed no more than a child, and went to work securing my arms over my head, then moving down to spread my legs wide, strapping my ankles in with the supple leather.

I was opened up before him, nothing hidden from his view. I saw the hunger burning in his eyes as his gaze raked over my body. He undid his silver tie and slid it to the floor, then unbuttoned his shirt with surgical precision as I watched, just as hungry as he was. I couldn’t wait to see that muscled chest of his—his fit body beaded with sweat as he bent over me…

I licked my lips as his shirt fell beside his tie, and waited for him to undo his belt buckle. Instead, he reached for my bra, and roughly pulled my br**sts out of the lace, displaying them on top of the cups. He leaned over and rolled each nipple between his fingers, pinching them hard until I gasped.

“Do you like that, little slave?”

I exhaled hard at his words, my pu**y heating below. “Y-yes, Sir.”

He pinched them one last time, then leaned back, assessing his work. My ni**les were erect, the tips red and puffy from his attentions.

“Good girl.”

He disappeared to one side, and I craned my head to try to follow him, squinting into the dim light of the dungeon. Then, his hand closed around my throat from behind, making me tense with fear.

“I’m going to show you a whole new world, little girl,” he rasped, making me tremble.

Something black and leather caressed my shoulder, then moved down, sliding over my chest. Glancing down I saw it was the end of one of the riding crops, and I tensed, my heart hammering in my chest. Mr. Drake moved it slowly downward, tracing the curves of each of my br**sts, holding my neck so I could watch each movement.

“A world where you belong to me.”

He flicked the crop, slapping the leather down sharply onto one nipple. I screamed at the sharp sting, and his hand tightened on my throat.

“I use you as I please. I give you pain when it pleases me, and pleasure only when you deserve it. Do you think you deserve it now, slave?”

His wrist flicked again, snapping the head of the crop against the soft tissue of my breast. I whimpered, tears burning my eyes.

“I… I don’t know, Sir.”

“Unacceptable answer.”

He moved to my side, looming over me, and ran the crop lower, toying with me, tracing the curve of my hip before tracing the inside of my thigh. I felt so helpless, unable to move, waiting for the next blow to fall, wondering what it would feel like, and fearing it all the same.

“When I ask you a question, I want either a ‘yes, Sir’ or a ‘no, Sir.’ ‘I don’t know’ is not an option, Isabeau.”

The crop whipped down, sending blazing pain spidering over my inner thigh. I pulled against the cuffs, writhing beneath him, unable to cover myself. Despite the pain, my body was heating more and more with each blow, my sex dripping against the edge of the swing.

“Understood?”

“Yes, Sir!”

Tears trailed down my cheeks, but I’d never felt so alive. My body was on fire, sensations sharper than they’d ever been before, lighting up my nerves. The leather against my back felt decadant, the cuffs pleasantly snug, the red marks on my breast and leg sensual and obscene.

“Do you deserve pleasure, slave?”

“No, Sir…”

The crop traced the spread lips of my pu**y, making me moan. My feet strained against the cuffs, but whether I wanted to close my legs or spread them wider, I wasn’t sure.

“And why is that, pray tell?”

“I… I haven’t pleased you yet.”

I thought about how badly I wanted to take him in my mouth, to run my lips and tongue over him. To feel him shudder inside of me as I gave him release. As I made him happy.

He chuckled darkly. The crop tapped lightly on my clit, making me purse my lips and bite back a yell. Jolts of awareness surged through me, pain and pleasure mixing until they were indistinguishable. All I felt was the intensity, and my body reacted, making me shiver.

“But you have pleased me, slave. You came for me as directed, and you followed my instructions. Your training is going very well so far.”

The crop tapped my lower lips in a staccato rhythm, making me wail as the burning washed over me once again.

“In fact, I think you’ve earned a reward--my c**k ramming deep inside your sweet little pu**y. Would you like that, slave?”

I wanted it so badly, I could barely speak. “Please,” I whispered. “Sir.”

Mr. Drake grinned, the hunger in his eyes making him look wolfish, like a predator eyeing his prey. He leaned to the side, then came back with a thin chain in his hands, with a small silver clamp on each end.

He pinched my ni**les again, making me moan, before attaching a clamp to each one. I cried out as they snapped into place, and bit my lip at the way they felt—each one creating a sensual ache that made me need him even more desperately.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he breathed, moving between my legs. “Bound for me. Chained…”

I heard his zipper lower, and wished I could reach down, to stroke him to hardness and guide him inside me. Instead I stared into his piercing green eyes as he positioned himself, and gasped in pleasure as I felt his tip pushing into me, stretching me wide for him.

He slammed into me, then, sheathing himself inside me in one sure stroke. I cried out as he reached out and gripped the chain attached to my sensitive ni**les, yanking sharply as he began moving in and out. I screamed at the pain, then panted, my eyes closing at the intensity of sensation coursing through me.

This was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and with each pump of Mr. Drake’s, my master’s, rod inside of me, I felt fireworks going off behind my eyes, making me soar in sparks of desire, the flames ensconsing me, burning the old me as the new one rose from the ashes, terrifying and beautiful.

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