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

by Savannah May

  Even when he twisted my nipple out into corkscrew I just floated back on the pain until he suctioned it between his firm lascivious lips. As he pulled in and out of his tug, every nerve in me fired with scrumptious longing.

  More.

  Luckily I managed to compress my lips from begging out loud.

  Screaming for “more”.

  Valentine was lifting me through the buildup of pressure and bringing me to the brink of climax before the entire group of onlookers. I didn't care who saw, my need to go over the cliff of withholding was so intense. I wanted them all to watch my delirious pleasure at submitting to Valentine’s mastery. To observe how in tune we were. He was playing me perfectly and massive great waves of affection rolled out toward him.

  The flick of the crop swiped through the air and slashed across the tops of my breasts, barely grazing the buckshot peaks of my nipples. One, two, three lashes, delicate but punishment like he’d never brought down on me before.

  I wailed inside the confines of my own mouth, sucking the flesh of my cheek in biting down with my back teeth to prevent myself from abject failure of crying out. Why? Why didn't I stop it right then? Valentine didn't play with a safe work in place. He told me he'd know immediately if I want to stop, or needed to.

  Valentine was obviously incensed with my behavior. But I'd visited my ex that he seemed determined to separate me from. His punishment was starting to cross the border of being very real. Now I waited for the stinging to subdue you with the caress of the feather.

  Instead the whip swished lightly across my stretched clit. The dripping folds bulged under the sharp bite. Three swift slaps across my pussy sear like the heat of an open flame before a rush of pleasure heats me further. I bit down harder inside my cheeks and tasted the iron sweetness of blood. That was it, sure I had reached my max out point, one more swish of the crop and I was going to call a halt. Without a safe word I had no idea how to make that happen but there was no way I would enjoy more of this.

  His hand darted into my thick care, grasping at the roots and pushing down top of my head. My stretched arms relaxed as the chains lowered from the gantry and I curled into a caterpillar ball, bending my knees and lowering to the floor.

  Now what?

  I knelt before Valentine, chest pounding, breathing as hard as when I'd attempted the New York marathon. I say attempted, I did actually finish but with such an ignominious time, I preferred to admit afterwards that my heart and lungs weren’t up to it.

  My agonized full breasts swayed in front of me while the tail from the plug trailed down between my legs. I loved being at the mercy of Jay Valentine. I longed for it constantly, so that when he wasn't close to me I felt bereft and alone.

  From the moment we met, I knew he was intrigued by more than my physical body. Even though he'd forced me to strip naked about an hour after the introductions, it wasn't from some lurid need to look at my tickets. He adored my naked body, that much I knew now, but he was more interested in building an alternative connection between us.

  Later, when he told me he'd set out the entire design project to lure me out to California, sure that he and I were meant to play together, I felt the power of his desire for me. He had gone to extreme lengths and expense to get me to Chateau, far from home and away from the security of my normal life. He could have any woman he wanted but had done all that only for me.

  He was stunningly handsome with a body built for protection. Behind all that and all the money, was something more. Something a little dark I couldn't yet decipher. I found it hedonistic, as addictive as any drug. I may have come close to seeing it last night when he cooked me dinner at his penthouse. Maybe that was why he pulled away, to barricade himself in his own quarters. Maybe that was why he was punishing me just a little too ferociously tonight. Jay Valentine was afraid of being known.

  By dragging the chain holding my wrists out along the floor he forced my nose down to the ground heaving breasts pressed into the floor and the shibari ropes stretch my clit wider apart. One toe of his shoe edged between my knees from behind to press them apart, opening up my lips even more delectably. Quivers of lust went through me and I thought can't contain myself much longer.

  Which way was I facing? I wasn't sure whether I'd veered to the side so that my pussy was now stretching apart in full view of the master billionaires surrounding the stage area. Don't know I didn't feel wanted and exposing my most intimate regions to complete strangers. I probably should have, but it was exactly the opposite. I even arched my back a little harder to raise and splay my ass cheeks. My slit spread wider, between the bulge created by Valentine's artistry with the shibari rope ties.

  The juices flowed down the inside of my thighs in full view of the spectators wanted and lost flickered through my damp spread dripping spread. The cool air of exposure imposed by the stricture of bondage only incited me higher.

  The high-pitched whine the crop looking through the air high my ear like an enraged mosquito allows me a second notice before snapping lightly across my ass cheeks. The sting ripped through me most pronounced between my thighs as a luscious gossip of cool air before coming blistering across my soul wet folds. Needle points prickled my tender flesh as the spanking continued.

  I would surrender. I would show them all that the trust between Valentine and me was intact, despite that I’d met Josh for a secret engagement. This was a completely different Valentine's usual preference was to build up over liquid slow amount of time administering just soupçons of torture then stepping back to observe the emotions he brought from me giving me the chance to relish them for going to repeat. Now he seemed more intent on inflicting punishment. Discipline. For the benefit of the other Alpha monsters is much as to put me in my place once and for all.

  My chest was bursting as I was holding my breath, gritting my teeth and clinching every muscle against the stinging my butt cheeks. It took every last pool of control to not thrash around as Liberty had. Fortunately I was on my knees so there was no chance of them giving out from under me but my heard swirled, close to swooning.

  A strange sense of gratification also rumbled through me. Surely Valentine would love me for this. We would advance up the ladder of trust and connection bonding us together. We be emotionally entwined permanently.

  Tears were squeezing out like water through rubble from under my bound lids, No matter how hard clamped down the blindfold was starting to dampen. I bit down harder on my inside cheek and just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, the sweet relief of a gentle pressure massaging circles in my dripping folds.

  The touch was magical in comparison to what had come before. My pussy welcomed the round head like a cool drink of water. Then my folds vibrated with tremors reverberating through my swollen clit so that I came thundering to the edge, unable to control myself.

  Lights, color, action blew a chasm through my brain as my climax got ready to detonate. And at the exact moment, he read my senses and removed the vibrating toy, leaving me teetering in desperate need. I was hanging on the precipice with my fingernails digging into my own palm instead of solid rock. Then Valentine’s hand reached between my thighs to part my folds.

  He trailed across my pulsating clit and rapturous lust threw up in me again. I was ready, panting at the effort of restraining the geyser of desire, desperate to go over the edge. Joyful inhibition was winning out over the divine torture as tiny increments of pleasure edged up my core. Then I was there – falling.

  27

  At the perfect moment, Valentine withdrew, tugging his fingers harshly away, leaving me alone in the void. Locked up from my own pleasure and forced to squelch the hunger for release back inside.

  But something triggered through the swirling in my mind. Realization clanged into gear like old machinery being newly oiled. Through the agony of frustration I knew something wasn't right. A jarring went through me and I knew the implicit faith I held in our connection was compromised. As we played I decided that Valentine’s increasing for
ce was punishment for my disobedience in going to see Josh. But no. Something was so far off between us, I could swear that the master playing me wasn’t Jay Valentine.

  When the fingers daggered through my hair again, to curl around the roots and tug me up off the ground to my knees, I was sure. I was gasping for breath as sobs pressed out from my pursed tight lips. Emotion overwhelmed me more completely than my lust ever had. Those vicious fingers were now digging into the blindfold’s knot. When it pulled free and my tears were released, my suspicions were proven correct.

  The ferocious fingers tugging at my pussy hadn’t been Valentine’s. My vision gradually adapted from its solitary darkness and the figure I knelt before came into focus out of a fog. The satisfied lip curl of my dom looked down on me with total absence of care. Holding the whip in one hand, there were what looked like three thick buckles strapped around the waist. A corset.

  It wasn’t Valentine, it was Delilah.

  I couldn't bear to meet her evil eye and hung my head which I’m sure gratified her. I sobbed out a single cry, not from any physical pain. I had to release everything whipping around on the lining of my skin – lust, hope, desire, love – and loathing.

  How could he do this to me?

  Abject humiliation was never part of our game.

  I raised my head in defiance. I wouldn’t give her an ounce of satisfaction. My gaze radar-ed around he room, looking for Valentine.

  How dare he?

  Give me over to subjugation by his assistant who’d been trying to inflict her will on me since the moment I arrives at the winery chateau. He’d tricked me into letting another woman toy with me, let her suck my erect nipples between her thin lips. At least I hadn’t allowed myself to climax under her vicious fingers. What was he playing at? Maneuvering me into testing another side of myself? Well that was a fail because I was not playing on that side. I may have come close but only while I thought I was playing with Valentine.

  I was inflamed by his betrayal.

  This was the most brutal punishment, real humiliation and worse than anything that I’d ever known. All because I had seen my ex? Because he found out the Marc had plundered my dampness on the plane? Did he really need to sequester all of me from the outside world in order to have complete control? His game of excess had ripped us apart for good. I would never forgive him for this as long as I lived.

  His face was nowhere in the group of men eyeing me. He hadn't even bothered to stay and watch my humiliation take shape. But again my eyes were drawn to the silver-haired man with the taut physique or a much more youthful boxer. His gaze delved into me, traveling between my stare and the shibari rope that sculpted around my pussy lips. His stare plainly announced how he longed to smother me in his grip.

  Then the blindfold was roughly replaced and tied tight at my scalp. The pulley system tugged on my wrists, raising me to my feet so I was left dangling, exposed to the view of the men beside Liberty and Chastity. Clearly I’d been abandoned into a world of high class slaves – what had one of the men called us? Elite bitches.

  We were left hanging there for an age. Any of the men could touch us at will without us knowing who it was. I was sure the other two women were suppressing the same aftershocks of lust and frustration coursing through their limbs. The sound of deep sovereign male voices discussing their important issues filled my ears. I stretched the auditory channel, listening for Valentines gravel burr without success. Their self important chat merged with the creaking of the rope and the muffled moans of the women on either side of me.

  The pungent aroma of cigar and woody single malt scotch filled my nostrils along with the lighter scent of my own pussy.

  “You’re a really bad girl,” a voice beside me said, an accent I couldn’t place.

  When he placed a clamp on each of my nipples I refused to grimace or flinch.

  “But that was very good,” he rasped.

  What would happen to me now? Would I stay on this boat forever? A rich man’s plaything? Or how would I get back to the estate and face Valentine? Maybe he was keeping me in an offshore prison just until Josh went back to New York.

  All the while I was left hanging naked in my darkness, thoughts roiled around my head and came close to driving me insane. My body shook in a tornado of emotions. One moment I was livid at Valentine for duping me and treating me like his possession. The next I was bereft at him leaving me and missed him more painfully than any of the minor flesh wounds Delilah had inflicted.

  My pussy clenched for him and my inner thighs were soaked through. None of the billionaires noticed my glistening skin and stroked across my swollen flesh. My body entered a delirium of confusion, unable to comprehend why it was being denied the craving of release. Every time my awareness was tuned to the scent of a man mounting the platform then the moans of the girls beside me, I was enraged with thrashings of desire. Chills flew up my skin as I became ever more avaricious to be caressed.

  Touch me.

  My body was silently screaming. I’d been denied release for so long, the lust had morphed into agony. If there was a version of blue balls, for women, then this was it.

  Take me however you want but let me come.

  I was too mad at Valentine to yearn for his touch. Part of me wanted every man in the room to lay his hands on me. I’d make sure to scream out loud with pleasure, my revenge for my boss’ treatment.

  The jolt that went through me was electric, when the fingers finally slipped between my thighs to stroke across my dripping hard point. I shuddered in a series of luscious spasm and my knees momentarily gave way. Wondrous thick fingers pushed inside my pussy, filling me and stretching some of the intense longing. They expertly sawed in and out along the tunnel walls until I couldn't help but writhe on my wrist bracelets. He thumbed across the swollen nub while plunging in up to the knuckle, back and forth over that spot.

  Oh yes, yes, yes, a man’s hard touch was my crack cocaine. It was incredible and addictive and I didn't care whether it was Valentine or that dominant silver fox that had attracted me earlier. He was brimming with vivid sexual energy. Even the ice cube trailing up my inner thigh was a miracle of pleasure rippling through me. My skin was alive with desire. The sudden shock of freezing cold inside me tamped down my desire and I found myself being released from the shackles along with the other girls.

  The blindfold was loosened and my first auto-reaction was to scan for the boss. He was nowhere in the room and my heart plummeted. I had been so sure he’d come back for me.

  “What day is it?” I asked the same assistant dresser I had before for my so-called initiation.

  He was so well-rested I thought at least one entire night must have passed. I’d missed Josh.

  “Sunday,” he replied.

  He finished unwinding the length of shibari rope from around my hips like a girdle then continued helping my jello limbs into a soft set of cashmere leggings and tight pullover that hugged my breasts. He brought me up on deck where I was deposited into a cigarette speedboat captained by the most gorgeous man ever, aside from the one that had deserted me.

  I would not allow myself to think about Valentine. The sun was setting into the ocean like a tangerine dream. I’d been hanging through the night and day. Now I was too drained and exhausted to care about the opulent beauty of mother earth. With no Valentine to carry me in his arms back to a soft cocoon, the romantic setting sun seemed to be laughing at me.

  Fuck that, and him. The arrogant control freak.

  28

  Sunday evening – there was still time to reach Josh before he left to take the red eye back to the East coast. A stretch was waiting for me on the quay. When I slipped gingerly into the empty huge back seat, I told the chauffeur to take me to The Fairmont.

  “Miss, I have instructions to bring you back to Napa,” he informed me, starting the engine as though it was settled.

  “No,”I announced, suddenly livid that everyone thought they could order me around. “You will take me to The Fairmo
nt where I have to take care of some business.”

  I had to see Josh and ask him to help me get away from Valentine. I was afraid if I went back to the Winery, he’d never let me leave. Darkness had fallen when we arrived at the stately hotel. I hurtled from the car almost throwing the valet back on his ass in my haste. My mind was a complete fog over Josh’s room number. That was even if I had noticed it after our muddling altercation in the elevator.

  “Mr Perrine checked out an hour ago,” the desk clerk told me, clicking across his keyboard snootily.

  Shit.

  I raced back through the doors, wondering how I could get an Uber and discovered Valentine’s stretch was still idling out front. As though he knew I’d be back. The unsurprised valet was ready for me this time and I was soon in the back seat.

  “Take me to the airport,” I ordered the driver. Expecting a negative, I was surprised he merely gave an imperceptible nod as he put the car into glide.

  I dashed into the terminal like some goof out of a romantic comedy movie, running at full throttle while startled travelers jumped out of my path. I ran like I was heading for the tape across an Olympic sprint. Had I been allowed access to the departure lounge I would have found Josh. Surrounded by a sea of tight red suits and matching high heels, being escorted onto the plane like a king with his retinue of stewardesses.

  My immediate impulse to buy a ticket and get the next available red eye was squashed when I realized I had no money, no cards, no ID and no underwear. Could it get any worse? The last time I’d asked that question was the initiation into this crazy life I was currently living. And sure it could get worse because now I was stranded at the airport with my crazy life upended on its ass.

  I walked back outside the terminal, dejected and fearful, wondering what on earth I should do now.

  “Can we go home now?” the driver stood beside me like a toy soldier.