Beauty and the Billionaire: A Dirty Fairy Tale Romance Read online

  Dinner on the boat watching the sunset had been pitch perfect as well, but now I wasn’t nervous, not exactly. I just didn’t want to deal with any more fallout; I didn’t want to chase her down again if she didn’t like what I was showing her. My playroom, where I kept all my bondage gear, was a sacred space to me. I had one arranged in every estate or apartment I had. It was the defining detail I held out for. If I was going to buy a property, then it had to have the right bones to be remodeled to allow me to play, to practice control.

  Some days it felt like being a Dom was the only way I could do that. I couldn’t stop my PTSD episodes from losing control. I couldn’t always fight back the darkness that consumed me, but I could be as cool and collected as I wanted to be when I was in charge, when I had a lover bound before me and obeying my every command.

  I wasn’t going to start that intensely for her, but she needed to see everything about me, at least if we were going to continue with our negotiations for this month.

  Belle looked up at me and frowned as we stood in front of the thick oak door. I pulled out a skeleton key and patted it against my hand.

  “This is the only thick door here,” she noted. “Even your… the room in the library,” she corrected, clearly trying to gloss over last night. “Even that has a normal door. So, is this your secret lair?”

  I shrugged and tried to keep my composure. I was best at that.

  Maintain control at all costs.

  It was what I needed because sometimes an animal slipped out when I didn’t keep that leash on it, when I let myself grow weak.

  “Actually, it is.”

  She frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  I turned the key in the lock and twisted open the knob. As the door swung wide, I let her take in everything from the black painted walls, the cuffs and whips, the chains and the paddles, the floggers and the cluster of satin blindfolds. I didn’t look back when I entered into my playroom. This was my refuge. If Belle wanted to come, then she would. She’d cross that boundary between us or she wouldn’t.

  There was a gasp behind me.

  “Is this what I think it is?”

  I nodded. “It’s my room, where I want to be, where I have to be.”

  Her voice was quiet, subdued. “This is where you do everything, isn’t it? Bring your subs?”

  “It’s where I’d like to bring you. We can start slower, but you wanted to do negotiations. I figured we needed to cut to the chase. Either you can handle the idea of this room, can handle going further, or you can’t.”

  She crossed the threshold. I knew because her hand was on my shoulder. “I want to. I said I wanted in on negotiations and I meant it, but I can’t just get chains and—is that a cat-o’-nine-tail?”

  I turned around and placed a hand under her chin. Those blue eyes of hers were as intense as ever but seemed to have some humor in them, too. She seemed to be game for this, even if I could see the fear lurking there, too.

  “There’s a little bit of everything. I can’t wait to show you everything Ben-Wa balls can do someday.”

  A blush streaked across her cheeks, and I knew then that I was getting my way with her, that her walls were coming down. She wouldn’t have followed me this far, into this room, without wanting to be here. I wanted that as well. I craved her, like a fresh hit of heroin in a junkie’s arm. Somehow, some part of me maybe even knew that at the first negotiation. I knew it for sure when I pulled that asshole off her.

  “I don’t even know what those are.”

  I nodded and crossed behind her to shut and lock the door. Mrs. Johnson and Leonard knew better than to wander in my wing of the house. There were certain places I kept sacred and certain things only I handled. This room was one of them.

  “Do you want to play with me, princess?” I lowered my voice to a rumble and loved the way she seemed to fidget from foot to foot. I knew what that meant, had seen it in the others I’d brought here. I bet she was fucking wet already, her juices flowing freely and ready for a hard fuck, even if she wasn’t ready for the whole nine yards.

  “I don’t want to be tied up, not yet, and I’m not sure I can handle pain.”

  “You’re not ready for anything that intense,” I said. “But you can lie down on the bed.” I gestured to the massive four-post monster covered in red silk sheets. “I’ll be right with you.”

  She did as she was told, for once not offering me her counter perspective. Of course, that was Belle as well. She wanted to argue and take the moral high ground but, deep down, she also wanted—no, needed—my touch the way I needed hers. While she settled herself on the bed, I rummaged through the shelf, pulling out the toys I’d need for the night; the basic things that would help integrate her to my world. Then I turned on the stereo to something melodic and low, but still sensual.

  Something primal.

  After all, it matched what we were doing here.

  Turning, I couldn’t help but smirk at the veritable feast laid out before me. Her delicate pale skin seemed like paper against the blood red of the sheets. Her breasts heaved with every breath, and my cock twitched at the glimpse of her dusky rose nipples. I wanted to lick them, to trace my tongue over every fucking inch of her succulent areolas. She was a gift from the gods, and she was mine.

  “So, what do you have there?” she asked, her voice anxious and higher pitched than normal.

  “A blindfold and the basics for sensory play. I promise nothing painful, no stings unless you ask.”

  “I don’t think I will,” she said, a pout making her lips stand out even more, making me daydream about what they’d feel like wrapped around my dick.

  “We’ll see on that, I promise,” I said. Then I set out the toys on the bedside stand: two gloves, one satin and one of rabbit fur and a blindfold. “Now, Ms. Fontaine, we’re going to see how sensitive your senses are.”

  ***

  I wasn’t sure what I was doing. A few days ago, the last thing I’d have done was go into a sex dungeon—okay, the room was better than that, the bed as fine as in a luxury hotel—but I’d never thought I’d be here. I came to the Bahamas to save my mom and my father’s company. I’d never thought about giving in this far into what Drake desired, but he’d saved me and then he’d made me feel better than I’d ever felt in my life. No, more than that, Drake left me craving him like I was a kid craving a sugar high. I needed more from him, and I was ready to go further.

  Besides, it’s just a couple of gloves and a blindfold. I can do that.

  He slipped the blindfold over me and it took a couple minutes until I realized that he wasn’t touching me yet.

  “Wait, did I do something wrong?” I asked, sitting up in bed.

  “No,” he replied. “Part of the scene is about anticipation, about the buildup of need as much as the experience. With the blindfold on, I want you to open your other senses. Hear the velvet in my voice, the low drums of the music. You can feel the softness of the silk under your skin and taste the need in the air.”

  “Smell the incense in the room, too,” I pointed out, realizing that he’d lit something.

  “Candle, actually, a cinnamon one.”

  “Of course, you’re a wild rebel.”

  “Princess, I’ve always been wild. You bring it out in me more than most, but I’ve always had it surging through me. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”

  I stilled on the bed, and I felt bad. I had seen glimpses of what he was capable of, and that still lay underneath our banter, that side of him I couldn’t quite reach. And maybe I didn’t want to, not after the shouting and escalation in his footlocker room.

  “I don’t,” I finally replied.

  “Master,” he said.

  I quirked my head in the general direction of his voice, even as the cinnamon scent continued to tickle my nose. I caught a whiff of that same hint of musk that always clung to Drake. “Really?”

  “That’s part of this room, princess. I’m your master here, if you agree, so the label ap
plies. When you speak with me, when I allow you to ask questions, you have to address me as ‘master.’ You will do that,” he said, his voice a growl that left my heart pounding and my clit throbbing.

  “Yes, Master,” I gasped, that word tripping easily off my tongue, as if I’d been destined to say it.

  “That’s exactly right, princess. I have you here. I control what goes on. So, you’ll call me master because that’s what I am. You belong to me right now.”

  “I do!” I said, feeling sparks arch across my skin, as if static electricity were lighting up my body, firing up every nerve.

  “Good, then we can begin. First, I have to set out the rules.” I could hear his heavy steps as he made his way across the expanse of the room. Then he moved a few things on the bedside table. “The first thing is that you lie still as I do this, you don’t move and you let the sensation sweep over you, you let yourself feel.”

  I nodded and bit my lower lip as I eased myself back onto the pillows. “I can do that, Master.”

  “You will do that,” he corrected.

  Then he touched something against my skin that he must have grabbed after I was blindfolded. The feather’s tip was soft against my skin as he strayed over my body. I shivered and forced myself to stay still, as he eased the feather over my shoulder and then to my collarbone. It dipped low there before reaching my right breast. Then the feather’s tip tickled against my nipple, sending it pebbling quickly. I could feel my clit throbbing in time with my heartbeat and a full-fledged current sweeping up my body, an electrical power seeming to wake me up in a way I never had been before. I felt wetness seep from me to the mattress below. The feather continued tracing its path until he reached my stomach.

  Then he moved back. I moaned, missing the contact, and then shuddered when a hand covered in fur was against the swell of my hip.

  “It’s all about the precision, princess, about the patience. I want you to feel everything, every option, every texture,” he continued as he led his hand down over the soft down of my pubic hair and then to my thighs. The silken rabbit’s fur teased my thighs as he worked over them. First, he stroked softly and then he squeezed the left thigh, kneading it with expert talent. Liquid desire pooled at the apex of my thighs and electricity spread again from my core, even as my clit pulsed with need.

  “Please, Master.”

  “Oh, you want the best part, don’t you? Do you need release?” he teased, and I could hear the amusement in his voice.

  “I want everything, Master.”

  His hand disappeared again and this time the satin gloves were on both hands as they spread my thighs apart. His fingers traced the soft material over the lips of my vagina, teasing the folds apart and tempting me further. I spread my legs as far apart as I could and arched my hips, giving him any angle he needed.

  Anything, as long as he could keep making me feel.

  His fingers found my clit and worked against it, massaging it with dexterity and skill that probably made him legendary. He started by pressing one thumb firmly against my precious bundle of nerves and the electricity was a full-blown AC current whizzing through my body. I could have lit up a damn city block. Then his other hand, just as soft with the satin glove, was curling over my right breast, teasing the hardened nipple there and kneading it with forceful precision. He twisted his thumb clockwise and I pressed my hips up higher, trying to get the right angle for his caress. My body was like a pulsating ball of energy and it felt like electricity throughout me. Then he hit the right angle against my g-spot and I came, and everything went to the next level, as if I’d been struck by lightning.

  I screamed again, glad we were in a far corner of his estate where Leonard and Mrs. Johnson would never hear us. I’d never been vocal like this before, but tepid make-outs with a disinterested boyfriend could never compare to the unbridled passion that Drake was showering on me.

  Skillful hands slid off my blindfold, and I had to keep myself from frowning back at him. I understood why his jeans were still on. After all, tonight was about my pleasure and about introducing me to the games he wanted to play, to the ways to improve our “negotiations.” Yet even in the water today, he never took off his shirt and it was becoming a glaring pattern that I couldn’t ignore much longer. It was niggling at the back of my mind too much.

  His cocky smirk greeted me as he placed the blindfold back on the bedside table. He ran his hand over my shoulder and I shivered at his touch, my body still sensitive from the orgasm that had swept over it.

  “I love to see you come. That look on your face, the way your lips curve up as you scream. Everything about you makes me want to take you in my mouth and never stop kissing you.”

  I nodded and raked a hand through his dark, wavy hair. The one sign that Drake was firmly not military, not anymore. “That was better than this morning. I did like the… what do you call it?”

  “It’s ‘sensory play.’ It doesn’t have to always be pain. I’m not invested as highly in the masochism as I am with the control, with having you know your role when we have our sessions.”

  I bit my lower lip but didn’t move my eyes from his. “And if I’m curious even a little about the other side of the sensations?”

  “About actual pain?” he asked, his tone perking up.

  I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. So far, everything he’d done with me had blown my mind and left my body weak and quivering with pleasure. If what he wanted from pain from the darker side of BDSM made me feel as good as his skillful fingers or his length or the soft caress of his gloves, then I was interested in that, too. I was beginning to believe that I’d sign up for anything that Drake McManus was offering.

  Maybe he was secretly a warlock or a magician, someone who’d cast a spell on me so that I could never refuse him again, never say no. I wasn’t sure anymore that I wanted to resist.

  “I just was curious.” He nodded and left the bed long enough to come back with some baby oil and some lotion. That confused me. We’d been talking about floggers or crops or whatever else there was, not massages. “Huh?”

  “Everything starts from somewhere, princess. If you want to try just a little of it tonight, then we have to have a code word, we have to start small, and then we’ll have to do aftercare, of course. I need to take care of your tender ass after that.”

  “I thought…”

  “A lot of places get it wrong. I’m not about to pull out the damn cat-o’-nine-tails and go to town with you. You’re not ready for that, and I want you to enjoy this as much as I do.”

  I nodded and sat up in bed, my heart pounding at the thought of what I was going to try. “What do we need?”

  “A safe word, and you need to use it if you feel you need to stop. What do you want?”

  “‘Negotiations,’” I blurted out.

  Drake quirked one lip up at me in a crooked smile. “Are you sure you won’t say that in the middle of the sex anyway?”

  “I swear.”

  “All right then, princess, so ‘negotiations’ if you’re close to your limit. What’s your no-go word?”

  I considered that, thought about what would probably never leave my lips voluntarily. “Wallaby.”

  He laughed. “You have the most random choices.”

  “Do you talk about fuzzy wannabe kangaroos in bed?”

  “No.”

  “Then it’s unlikely I’ll say it on accident.”

  He laughed again and then sat back down on the bed, his long legs tucked up under him. “Then, princess, let’s start this session. Are you ready?”

  “I am.”

  “What was that?” he asked, his voice going hard and gruff. I bet it was the same voice he’d have used abroad to command the troops or unit under him while he was in the Marines. “What did you call me?”

  “Master,” I breathed, barely trusting my own voice. “Master, we can start.”

  “Then get on all fours.” His tone was strict and hard, but I knew I was safe with him. He was leadi
ng me through all this, had helped teach me the basic ways to protect myself. I wanted to see his world, see more of it, and this was the only way I’d ever know if it could work. “Ms. Fontaine, on your knees.”

  I crawled over his lap, my hands out in front of me on one side of his legs and my knees on the other side. Arching up my ass, I presented myself to him. “What now, Master?”

  “I’m going to spank you three times. That’ll be the start for tonight.”

  “Really, Master?” I asked, surprise coloring my words. “I thought…”

  “It will be plenty, princess,” he said. Then he traced his palm over one bare ass cheek. “This is because you ran away, because you were such a bad girl. Do you understand?” His arm pulled back and he struck the flat of his hand hard against my ass. The sting tore through me, raw and real, something I’d never felt before. It did hurt, and yet, it made my clit throb and my breath hitch as surely as if his length were deep inside me. “You can’t ever run again, princess, not like that. You can’t ever get yourself in trouble.”

  His palm hit my other cheek and I went rigid.

  This time, the slap was harder than the first, something that told me I might be tender in the morning. A hiss of breath escaped my lips, and I felt the hint of tears water at the corner of my eyes.

  “I... negotiations.”

  He paused and then reached for the baby oil. Squirting it into his hands, he rubbed it thoroughly between his palms and then rubbed both cheeks, massaging them with such skill that I wondered if he’d lived a dozen lifetimes, picked up talents in all of them: soldier, PR guru, sex god, masseuse. I’d have believed it. His touch was golden.

  “Do you want to go for the last one, princess?” he cooed, his voice soft and considerate, some of the harsh formal “master” tone gone. “You’ve done so well right now. More than I thought you could.”

  “I can do more,” I said, my body and my voice both shaking. “I want to.”