Unjust Billionaire: A dom romance (Bossy Billionaire Book 2)

by Savannah May

  My boss allowed me to walk behind him this time, instead of telling me to get on my knees. But I had to fight to keep up with his long stride in the towering skinny Louboutin pumps, without doing the geisha shuffle. It might have been easier descending the steps to the dungeon on my knees after all.

  Marc Chapelle was already waiting for us inside the darkened room. I had to admit he was looking divinely rugged in a tight black sweater that accentuated his toned torso, his stubble growing through at the end of the day. For a guy in his forties he was exceptionally well-packaged. The steel-colored waves of his hair and rugged creases in his tan skin were definitely alluring.

  His eyes flittered across my body, alighting on the plunging cleavage, open to the waistband of the well-cut black pants that hugged my ass. My pussy clenched eagerly with the memory of our nighttime plane ride.

  “So I understand you two are a little better acquainted than I was led to believe,” Valentine said in a husky voice. So that for the first time I was fearful that he was actually bent on real punishment. He was glaring at Marc, his eyes sparking fury.

  I looked at Marc too, urgently trying to communicate that in truth, Valentine knew nothing. He was only making a conjecture following my small slip up. But Marc resisted meeting my gaze and stared levelly at Valentine. Perhaps the only man in the world who didn't cower from the billionaire's power. Chapelle met the challenge and remained silent.

  My heart was trying to blast through my ribcage, with fear and excitement for what was going to happen next, in this isolated mansion completely under Valentine's control. He could do anything he wanted without censure and I was avid to discover what he had in mind.

  14

  “Take those pants off,” he commanded me. “I don't want to see you dressed like a man, especially not when you have such a perfect feminine body.”

  Trepidation rising, I unzipped without missing a beat and allowed the wool pants to drop to the ground. Next I tentatively stepped each stilt heel out of them in dainty geisha mode.

  They remained in a pile on the floor and Valentine pulled the chain, with me along behind, across the room to one of the restraint contraptions. Tall rather than broad, so I knew I wasn't about to be spread out on a whipping bed, aside from that I was clueless about its purpose. He looped the chain from my neck brace through a pulley attached to a shuttle and wound it tight, taking up the slack.

  Then he grabbed each arm, pulled them hard above my head and shackled my wrists into the chain. The dragging weight of my upreached arms made the handcuffs chafe against the small bones of the joint. Hanging by my wrists, I felt more vulnerable than ever before.

  I'd worn my hottest pair of high cut black lace panties to dinner and was aware of both men ravaging their eyes over my mound and my bare legs. They must have been fairly shapely thanks to the towering heels I was teetering on. Little flitters of excitement trilled down my channel and the lace crotch dampened between the flesh of my inner thighs as I realized how much both gorgeous masculine hunks craved to possess me. My pussy ached along its full length, still unrelieved after days of torment.

  Valentine inserted a finger into one of the black silk bands of my halter neck top and hooked it open across to the side, so my breast popped free. His gaze scorched across the naked bobbing point and I remembered how he said they were amazing. Okay I admit it, pride was my sin, or one of them. He reached his finger into the other band and pulled the other peak out so both flesh mounds were bare and full before him.

  The bands of my top bound to the outer sides of my tits pushing them together so they bulged pink, in stark contrast to the dark black wool of his jacket. It filled a gratifying need to notice how his broad chest rose and fell a little faster at uncovering my breasts.

  My nipples were enraged with hunger and Valentine rubbed his palm in a circular motion across first one then the other. His touch dragged them into a peak, growing larger in response as waves of bliss emanated through my core and down my bare inner thighs.

  I loved being naked in front of Valentine- his response to my body made me feel gorgeous and desired. And as he moved to the side and behind me, I raised my eyes to Marc and saw he too was impressed, seeing me naked for the first time. My pussy continued to pulse and tug with hunger at being so appreciated. I had the illicit urge to take my panties off and completely expose my slit in front of the two studs, except of course I was restrained by the cuffs.

  I wondered whether Marc, his eyes raking over my inner thighs, could detect the convulsions in my cavern making my mound contract. My tits rose and fell so fast under my jagged enthralled breath, they were almost bouncing.

  While I silently begged Marc to meet my eyes and communicate, darkness plunged me into my inner solitary world. Valentine tugged the black blindfold snug around my head so not a smidgen of light leaked in. There was to be no relief for any of my senses and I was going to be forced to experience my punishment intensely alone.

  “I see you are taking a great deal of pleasure from your punishment as usual, Ms Cannon,” Valentine's hot sand voice tickled the back of my ear and I was suddenly more aware of his heady man musk aroma.“You know this big bow at the back of your neck has been a distraction all evening.”

  He trailed his fingers up my spine across my naked back and tugged lightly on one end of the black silk ties fastening the halter top. Once the bows came loose, he inserted a single finger inside the knot, that small touch searing through me. Taking the long tails of fabric in his large, elegant hands, he moved around my hanging body, circling the fabric around my chest.

  “Did you receive my gift?” he inquired, as he tightened the fabric binds between my mounds of flesh with meticulous precision.

  Fuck, in my eagerness to see Valentine at dinner, I forgot to return that ridiculously expensive bauble to him. It was strange, seeing as he hated to see me dressed in pants, that he'd sent me a Cartier de Rotonde watch- a man's timepiece- rather than some petite, barely readable bracelet covered in diamonds. At every turn he surprised me more and more with his opposing beliefs.

  “Yes- sir,” I murmured, contorted with how rude I must appear to him, in not even acknowledging his attempt to please me.

  Why had he given me that watch anyway? He didn't seem like the kind of man to try to buy either affection or submission. And surely he could see that somehow he'd already elicited both those emotions from me. He was making some kind of elaborate criss-cross pattern with the ties above and below my swollen breasts, taking his sweet time with adjusting the fabric to his perfect ideal. Ensuring it was pulled perfectly taut so my flesh squeezed.

  “Then why aren't you wearing it? Did it not please you?”

  “It did, sir, very much. But I can't accept it,” I said, cringing minutely inside as I could feel fully the depth of his disappointment, reaching my very center through darkness of the blindfold.

  “Can't or won't?” Valentine growled softly, tugging the ties around my chest tighter so the bands squeezed my breasts into a painful bulge.

  “It's too extravagant a gift,” I said. “Sir.”

  “When I give you something, you will take it and thank me- Whatever it is. Gifts are not determined by monetary value. Don't be so naive, Andie.”

  There- he said my name again. For some stupid reason that made me delirious with joy, despite his tone. That along with the mesh of ties squeezing and engorging my tits, making me acutely, deliciously aware of their nakedness. My nipples were begging bolts of eager lust, reaching out for his adept fingers as they adjusted the bonds.

  “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

  Inside I was doing a hula dance. The Cartier was the most outrageous present I was ever likely to receive in my lifetime and it came from a man I was becoming dangerously attracted to, who just happened to have complete control over all my sensations.

  He tied off the ends of the halter top with force. I was tightly encased, wrapped in an intricate pattern many times around my breasts so they bulged forward, compress
ing and pinching the flesh into a fever of hunger. Josh and I had never indulged in breast bondage.

  He'd mentioned karada a number of times and I'd agreed of course, although I couldn't see the allure. We'd never actually got around to it, long work hours had kept our play limited to basic punishment- handcuffs and spanking. And he seemed to indulge himself in play of dominance over me whereas Valentine played a much different game. Now I understood the height of arousal that was bringing me right to the edge of delirium.

  When Valentine pinched one nipple then the other between finger and thumb, the raised sensitivity made me shudder in mini convulsions of pleasure. The hard nubs were sending powerful thrusts of want and ravaging need throughout my body, right down to my toenails. It was insane, the wanton salacious need to be manhandled by this delectable man. I writhed slightly, shifting my hips as much as I was able, under the agonizing pain of lusty desire locked up inside my pussy.

  “Oh god,” I moaned as Valentine tugged my nipples to a full stretch. I would do anything for him, any filthy act of bodily submission, forever and right now, whatever he wanted.

  “Good. Now show me,” he ordered.

  I faltered, with no idea what more he wanted me to display for him. Then I cautiously glided one leg to the side and resettled my pelvis weight in the center again. The narrow crotch of my panties no longer covered my slit and I shivered as the cool air of the underground cave flittered across the nub pushing out between the lips. I silently begged Valentine would notice the glistening eager fold and slip his fingers into my depths to relieve my torment. But there was no way to tell, trapped in my own darkness.

  “Very good,” Valentine said. “That is beautiful Ms Cannon, but not exactly what I meant. I want both of you to show me.” Confusion beset me completely as I had no idea what he wanted from me-us- now. “Show me exactly what you know of each other. How you got to know each other before arriving here.”

  15

  Ohmigod no! If Marc Chapelle and his expert exploratory tunnel diving fingers came anywhere near my screaming pussy, I was going to come in about three seconds. The lewd hunger coursing through my core was overwhelming. One man's fingers might not be enough – I wanted four hands rubbing my clit and plundering every hole until the desperate thirst was quenched.

  I was in a frenzy of need to let go of the sexual tension racking my body, the filthy desires running amok in my core. But, although Marc was hot and a magician with a G-spot, it was Valentine’s fingers I yearned to have inside me. The more he withheld himself from me, the more painful was my need. I hung almost-suspended from the chains holding me aloft, my breasts exposed and my slit half bare, waiting breathlessly to see who was going to take their desire from me.

  Eventually, propelled to action by Valentine's insistence, Marc moved across the dungeon, his entire form blazing into mine as he came up close, so close my nipples tingled at his proximity.

  “I don't believe you were wearing zeese,” he said in a voice thick with relish and slipped the thin bands of lace down over my hips and thighs until they snagged at my knees.

  My bare pussy convulsed at being exposed, He left the underwear, his attention absorbed by my slit as his hand reached into my fevered folds. It took every iota of strength not to moan and buckle at the knee as his fingers grazed across my engorged clit, finding the throbbing center and swirling in its juices

  “Stop.”

  The harsh order came from Valentine and Marc immediately complied, slipping his fingers out of my dripping vulva. I felt the interior howl at his departure as my nectar ran out of my pussy down my inner thigh.

  “You didn’t inflict the wounds to her gorgeous ass like that? Was it you?”

  Valentine was beside me now, the two men on either side, I could feel the force of them glaring at each other across my blindfolded face.

  “Marc didn't spank me,” I blurted out, before the Frenchie had a chance to get us into deeper trouble with our boss. “That wasn't Marc, Sir,” I added in a less decisive tone.

  I felt Valentine’s head turn to me in surprise – It is truly astounding what you can see when you can't take in a single thing with your eyeballs.

  “You mean someone else had the pleasure of giving you that spanking right before you came to me?” he demanded.

  Through my covered gaze and every pore, I felt Marc Chapelle’s surprise on the other side of my naked body. Then his amusement at discovering my lascivious desire. How I could take two different men in one evening, before becoming the slave to a third.

  “Yes, sir.”

  My head tilted forward in shame no matter how hard I tried to force my chin up high. Surely Valentine would never touch me now. What interest would he have in the sex-mad little tramp I seemed to have become? It could only have been Josh that spanked me- Valentine would realize that. It had been his strange envy for my relationship back in New York that had induced this punishment session in the first place. Words boiled up in me and over in my eagerness to pull him back to me.

  “I didn't know, back then, that-”

  “Be quiet,” Valentine barked. “You will speak to me only when I ask you a question or indicate that you may voice your opinion.”

  “Yes, sir,” I whispered.

  “Hm, I'm not convinced by your submission. Your headstrong nature causes you to forget your commitments.”

  He'd moved behind me and I clenched my core, waiting for punishment as Valentine daggered his fingers through the hair he'd unpinned and let flow only a short time before. I couldn’t put that voluptuous kiss across the dining table out of my mind. He tugged until so my head stretched back and the gold halter pressed against my windpipe, then wrapped another bind of fabric between my lips.

  He pulled tight on the second knot at the back of my skull so I was knotted and tied all over my upper body, which only made the wet nakedness down below more poignant. The air around me cooled as both masculine hunks moved away from me and I heard the contraption that was restraining me jerk into action.

  My wrists were dragged forward until I was forced to bend over at the waist. I had to arch my back hard to maintain balance which stuck my ass up high in the air. With my panties still tangled around my open knees and my tits hanging delicious in their repression, my juices began to run free again.

  The flick through the air behind my head interrupted my struggle to regain equilibrium in my new stance and was instantly followed by searing across my bare ass as the crop came down. Valentine lashed my tender upturned cheeks over and over until hot tears pressed from my eyes into the silk mask and I whimpered into the one gagging me.

  “She needs to 'ave a safe word.” The husky French accent penetrated my miasma of emotional excess. Marc's voice came from across the cold room- he had to be observing my thrashing.

  “I don't play safe, she knows that,” Valentine growled as he brought the lash whipping across my skin again. “And so do you, Marc.”

  “She is very exposed,” Marc persisted despite Valentine's dangerous tone.

  “If by that you mean vulnerable, that's the whole fucking point, isn't it?”

  “But the sub should feel the ultimate control.”

  Arghhh. Shut up, shut up, shut up, Marc. Did I ask you to rescue me?

  The more Marc made his own entertainment by leaning on Jay Valentine, the harder our master eviscerated my ass cheeks. Every stroke on my soft flesh bit harder into each of my senses. Valentine was furious at being questioned by a minion but his love for me came through. He was definitely regretting his idea of punishing me with a three-way game, forcing Marc to demonstrate the acts he had performed with me on the plane. I knew he felt double-crossed by me, by us. He was right – we had an intrinsic connection to each other. I seemed to feel his emotions as my own.

  I understood now why Valentine disdained using the safe word. He was kicking our play up another notch and testing the ultimate level of trust between us. He said he was totally aware of what I was feeling and had no need of a safe
word, because he was positive he'd know the instant I wanted him to stop. If he failed in that, there was no connection in our relationship. It was the connection, the deeper understanding of a mate, that made him play these games.

  With a final lash across my buttocks, Valentine turned his attention to Marc and told him, in his usual placid voice; “Andie and I know who is in control.”

  I quivered down to my deepest center when he used my name once more. I was coming to recognize that it too, was an indication of our closeness. When he called me Andie he was feeling something more special that the usual domination and submission relationship. He had effectively locked Marc out of our unique connection.

  16

  Now that my boss had finished my well-deserved punishment, his fingers slid into my slit from behind, caressing my folds. His hand was immediately soaked and covered with my flowing nectar.

  “You’re so wet, Ms Cannon,” he growled.

  Despite the heat in my buttocks, my pussy was gushing with excitement. His touch elicited pulsations deep into me and in seconds I was on the brink of explosive orgasm, ready to detonate in tornadoes of joy. But his hand scooped the juices from my clit, back across the sensitive perineum and rubbed them in a circular motion around my puckered hole.

  Freaking fuck, no one had ever invaded that exterior entrance and I wasn’t sure I ever wanted them to. I couldn't prevent the instinctive reaction of clenching my ass cheeks tight, jerking away from him. Again the air spun and his palm came down on my cheek, blazing my round ass and making me squeal silently beneath the gag.

  “Relax and let go to me,” Valentine growled in my ear.

  I mustered my strength to release the clench of my rectum and he swirled my juices into the constricted crease, probing his fingers, gradually encouraging my surrender. I relaxed into the delightful new sensation and then he expertly corkscrewed into the tight entrance. I gasped at the strange pain as I felt my dark tunnel grip around his backward probe and then fall away.