Harmon was manipulating her too, making her wait all day like this. But the thought of the kind of treats he’d have in store for her had her already damp with arousal despite her anxiety. Would he allow her to come this time? She desperately hoped so. The need had been building inside her as the hours slowly ticked by. She checked again in the mirror, making sure the seams on her black stockings were arrow-straight. She was wearing another black garter belt, this one an old-fashioned style, more like a girdle really. It cinched in her waist and came down low in front, ending just above the line of curls Harmon had told her would be removed, leaving her pussy exposed. He’d chosen a bra with full-sized cups this time. But it had circles cut in it so her bare nipples stuck out, framed by black lace all around.
She wore a white crinoline half-slip, a garment she’d only seen in old movies. It was stiff and unyielding, making a wide circle around her body. Over it all, she had on a sleeveless red dress with a tight waist and a full skirt that flared out from the slip underneath and swirled around her calves with every step she took. Full black pumps with just her toes peeking out completed the outfit. Per instructions, her hair was parted on one side and pinned back with a barrette. She felt like the virginal starlet in a 1940s movie, ready to sneak out on her first date with the bad boy her parents had forbidden her to see.
Sam had shown her all around the top floor earlier in the day, making sure she knew where the lab was located. She visited the gym and was formally introduced to Riley and Marcus, the final members of Harmon’s inner circle. Marcus offered her his services as a personal trainer. He was bald and black, with muscles like an NFL linebacker. Kyra thanked him, but decided privately that what he’d set up as a basic workout would probably kill her long before she got into shape. Riley turned out to be the humorless security guard who had escorted her here from the lobby the first time. Was it only the day before yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime ago.
She met Carmen in the kitchen, where wonderful smells filled the big bright room. Harmon’s housekeeper was the exact opposite of what Kyra had been picturing. Short and plump and motherly, she had streaks of gray in her dark hair, a Cuban accent, and a warm smile that disappeared when Sam reached for a spoon to dip into the black beans and rice simmering on the enormous commercial range. Carmen slapped his hand and Kyra was shocked to see the man’s stone face split by a huge grin.
“Carmen’s going to dump that old geezer she’s been married to forever and run off with me one of these days,” he said. “She can’t resist my charm much longer. Isn’t that right, mi preciosa?”
She giggled like a schoolgirl. “I’ve told you before, hombre, just because there’s snow on his roof doesn’t mean there’s not a hot fire in the furnace down below.”
She shooed them both out of the kitchen, promising to bring Kyra her dinner by five. Kyra couldn’t help wondering what Carmen thought of the wide array of slutty outfits in the closet. She assumed the woman had been the one who set out tonight’s selection. Kyra found it hanging on a hook on the wall in the dressing room when she left Harmon’s office, complete with underwear, shoes, and a picture of the hairstyle he wanted clipped to the hanger.
She’d spent the rest of that afternoon unpacking and exploring her quarters. Behind the wall of mirrors on one side of her sitting room, she found a tiny kitchen, complete with the latest high-tech coffee machine, a microwave, and a mini-fridge stocked with fresh fruit and drinks. Her favorite brand of Cuban coffee was on a shelf above, along with a selection of the herbal teas she often drank at bedtime. This was getting downright creepy. Had he hired someone to break into her apartment and go through her cabinets?
That thought galvanized her into action. She rummaged in her purse, grabbed her phone, and sent a text.
I’m here. Miss you so much, baby.
A few seconds later the phone pinged.
Miss you too. Just keep thinking of all that money.
Good. Her phone still worked and the link to Patterson was up and running. He was the one who suggested this method of staying in touch. If anyone read her texts, they’d figure she had a boyfriend they hadn’t known about, a boyfriend she was probably supporting. One who apparently was okay with the idea of whoring her out to another man, as long as it paid well.
She took another look at the schedule she’d found on the foyer table when she got back to her room. Harmon had blocked out several hours each day when he wanted her to attend meetings with him or go over financial reports. Sam said there was an office waiting for her on the floor below, in the corporate headquarters. She’d be escorted there tomorrow morning.
Kyra dragged her thoughts back to the present and looked at her watch again. 7:56. She threw back her shoulders, opened the door, and headed for the lab. The long hallway was empty, all the doors closed. As her heels echoed on the wood floor, she wondered briefly how many people she hadn’t yet seen were sitting silently behind those doors right now.
Harmon’s lab was at the other end of the building. She hadn’t been inside but Sam had pointed out the door when he gave her the tour. She knocked softly. Harmon opened the door. Tonight he wore black jeans and another tight black t-shirt. She dropped her gaze to the floor and saw that his feet were bare.
“Good evening, Kyra.”
She froze. Did he expect her to reply? Or would that earn her more punishment?
Harmon must have sensed her confusion because he let out a low chuckle. “You may respond.”
“Yes, sir. Good evening… sir,” she added.
“Come in. This is my lab—my real home. You could probably earn big bucks tomorrow just describing what you see tonight to some faceless entity online. But of course, you’ve signed that confidentiality agreement. And I’m sure you’re a woman of integrity, someone I can trust to keep her word.”
She didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept silent. Did he know about her deal with Patterson? Was he testing her, taunting her?
“We’ll be spending a great deal of time together in here. Take a few moments. Look around.”
She turned slowly, trying to take it all in. The lab took up one entire end of the building. Bright lights in the ceiling illuminated every corner of the room. There were no windows. One wall was covered with a huge floor-to-ceiling mirror. The other walls were lined with shelves and storage cabinets. Several closed doors in between led off to who knew where. Her imagination ran wild when she saw a metal table like the one in her doctor’s office in a corner of the room, surrounded by machines that beeped and whirred occasionally.
Here and there, countertops and desks were covered with devices she didn’t recognize, along with dozens of computer screens. In one corner, a cozy sitting area held a sofa and two armless upholstered chairs. On the other side of the room, a padded steel bench about eighteen inches wide and three feet tall stood in front of the mirrored wall, with another mechanical contraption at one end of it.
* * *
Harmon watched her take it all in, saw her eyes widen when she saw the straps attached to the four legs of the padded bench. He knew she’d be picturing herself stretched across it, arms and legs restrained. Next she’d start wondering what the machine at the end of the bench did.
“I’m going to test your responsiveness to various stimuli tonight,” he said. “Every sub has certain triggers, things he or she responds to more strongly than others. You may not even know what all of yours are. But by the time your six months are up, you’ll know them all—and so will I. Will it be bondage, humiliation, forced exhibitionism during self-stimulation, medical play?”
He saw her hands clench at his words and wondered which hot button he’d just pushed. “I’m going to fit you with a headpiece. It contains sensors that will allow me to map the pleasure centers of your brain. Wearing it won’t hurt… although I can’t say the same for what you’ll be made to do while you have it on.”
He led her to the center of the room and slipped a narrow band on her, stretching it across her forehea
d and over her temples and fastening behind her head. He pulled a chair up to a computer screen with his back to the mirrored wall, ready to observe everything she did, and had her face him, so she could see herself in the mirror. The screen in front of him lit up, reflected by the mirrored wall.
“Pull up your dress from behind with both hands and turn around slowly, so I can see your ass.”
She flushed and did as she was told. He glanced at the monitor, noting the sudden spike. Instant reaction to shame and embarrassment. Soon he’d have her fitted for the pussy gear, so he could track the exact moment she started getting wet.
“Now face me again and take off the dress, then step out of the slip.”
The line on the monitor climbed higher. She slid the dress over her head and let the slip fall to the floor. Now she was standing in front of him clad only in her underwear. Her nipples protruded from the cutout holes in the bra. He came toward her and tweaked them until they stood out, hard and tight. Then he clamped temporary rings to them, the ones without shock sensors. She gasped at the sudden pain, but didn’t move.
Harmon walked over to the sofa and sat down. “Take off the rest of your clothes.”
Her cheeks flushed but she did as she was told, trembling a little, eyes downcast the entire time. She dropped the bra and her hands moved to the nipple rings. “Not those,” he said. He saw the look of dismay on her face, but she never protested. She bent forward to unhook the garters. Slipping off her shoes and balancing on one foot, then the other, she peeled the stockings off. Finally she reached behind her and unhooked the lace garter belt, letting it fall to the floor. He let her stand there for a moment under the bright lights of the lab, naked, and just stared. Her body was beautiful. Full, lush breasts, narrow waist, hips that flared out. For a moment, he even forgot to check the monitors.
“Come here and lie across my lap.”
As she walked toward him, the portions of her brain that registered fear and anxiety responded strongly. But so did the center for arousal. She put one knee on the sofa, awkwardly supporting her weight with her hands as she draped herself across his lap. Her body was warm and soft and when she let her full weight rest on him, he felt his own body respond. Without thinking, he stroked her bare ass and ground himself up against her, just a little.
Harmon didn’t need a machine to tell the instant she felt his cock pressing up, hard and ready. Her sharp intake of breath did that. Grabbing her wrists with one hand and holding them out in front of her, he smacked her bottom sharply with the flat of his palm. The computer screen exploded in lights. He started spanking her steadily, firm but not too hard at first, watching with clinical detachment as her lovely bottom turned pink. He spanked harder and it took on a darker shade of red.
As it did, her pain centers on the monitor glowed brighter and brighter. Her fingers dug into the fabric of the sofa but she never moved or made a sound. He wanted more, wanted to see what she’d do once he broke her tight control. He shifted his legs a little and spanked her slowly, sensuously, rubbing the hard bulge in his pants back and forth across her wet slit with every whack.
A soft moan escaped her lips. The sensors recorded a huge spike in endorphins. The pleasure centers of her brain were sending off fireworks. Harmon smiled to himself.
“Get down on your knees in front of me,” he demanded, letting go of her wrists. She slid to the floor and knelt there, head down. He reached out and unclipped the clamps from her erect nipples, then pinched one hard nub between his fingers. She let out a ragged gasp.
That sound torn from her throat tipped the scales. He’d waited long enough. Harmon got up and yanked off his shirt, then stepped out of his pants, standing in front of her naked, his rigid shaft just inches from her mouth. “Suck it,” he growled.
Kyra opened her mouth and took him in. He watched her brain waves on the monitor spike again. Was it from sucking his cock or from being ordered to do something, anything? One part of his mind filed that question away for further study. But she was really getting into it now, kissing and licking all down the shaft, then taking him deeper. He grabbed the back of her head with both hands, pumping himself into her mouth.
When her soft palm closed around his balls and he felt her fingernails rake gently along them, he almost came right then. But he wasn’t ready to end the session yet. He pulled away and she glanced up at him in surprise.
“You just broke a basic rule, Kyra.” He sank back down on the sofa and yanked her over his lap again. “You will keep your eyes downcast at all times unless I give you permission to look at me.” As he spoke, his hands roamed. Her ass was warm and glowing from the spanking and he could feel the moist heat of her pussy against his bare cock, thick and hard and ready. He spanked her again, a quick burst of firm swats, and finally slid his hand between her legs.
She moaned then, deep and low. The moan turned into a soft cry as he plunged two fingers inside her. She writhed around on his lap, rubbing herself against his rigid length, exciting his cock even more as she squirmed, trying to work his fingers deeper inside her.
Harmon let out a harsh groan. He forgot all about the monitors, the screens, the sensors. With one powerful move, he flipped her over to lie face up on the sofa. He shifted his body, supporting himself with his arms.
“Now look at me,” he demanded as he spread her legs apart with his knees and moved over her. Kyra met his eyes. “Tell me. Tell me you want this.”
“Yes.” Her voice was breathless, the single word torn from her.
He locked her gaze with his and slowly, relentlessly, slid inside her. Kyra’s eyes darkened and she opened her mouth a little, as though she wanted to take him in everywhere. Harmon bent his head and captured her lips with his. Her tongue darted into his mouth, teasing, the way she’d done to the head of his cock. He reared back and rammed himself deeper. She let out a muffled scream and thrust her hips up to meet him. He made a noise then, low in his throat, and started fucking her, hard and fast. She wrapped her legs around his waist and took him in, throwing her head back and bucking against him. He looked down. Her eyes were closed now, her hair spread out around her face. She was making soft cries that got louder and wilder as he rammed into her over and over. “I want you to come, Kyra. Now. Come for me.”
He felt her muscles squeeze around him and he let himself go then, his cock pulsing deep inside her. His mouth found hers again and he smothered her screams with a savage kiss as she exploded beneath him.
Chapter Eight
Kyra sat at the glass-topped table in one corner of her sitting room, her morning cup of café Cubana hardly touched. Every time she thought about last night, her pussy grew damp again and try as she might, she couldn’t help thinking about it. She’d never come so hard or so fast. There was something compelling about Harmon. His dark intensity, his arrogant demands on her body. To her surprise, the pain of the hard spanking he’d given her had somehow morphed into intense pleasure through the skillful stroking of his fingers afterwards. If this was what it was like to be a sub, she couldn’t wait till her next session.
A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. The man was certainly well-hung. Kyra relived that first moment, the size and taste and feel of him. Long. Thick. Iron hard. She’d had a flash of panic when he’d seized her head in both hands and began pumping himself into her mouth. But by then, she was so far gone that it disappeared under the shocking stab of raw lust she’d felt at his mastery.
Last night, after she came with her legs wrapped around his body, he held her for a long time, stroking her hair as she shuddered beneath him. Then he kissed her, surprising her with his gentleness. He helped her back into the red dress, telling her to leave the rest of the clothes on the floor.
“Carmen will take care of them tomorrow,” he said, laughing a little at the look of sudden horror on her face. “Don’t worry. She’s been with me for a long time. She doesn’t gossip. And she certainly doesn’t judge.” Then he ushered her to the door, leaving her to walk, bar
efoot, back down the long hall to her rooms at the other end of the building.
Kyra had glanced nervously at the double row of doors all along the way, fearful that someone would come out and see her, flushed and disheveled, her full breasts hanging free under the thin fabric of the dress. She barely made it inside the door of her suite before she collapsed, shaking all over. What in the world had she gotten herself into?
She’d been up half the night, tossing and turning, feeling a shiver of arousal every time her stinging bottom made contact with the cool sheets. Harmon the businessman was easy to handle. In a totally different way, Harmon the dom was easy too. She’d watched enough movies, read enough erotic novels, to know what role she was expected to play. And he was a skilled lover, drawing out her pleasure and taking her to heights she’d never experienced before.
But the other Harmon, the tender one who had held her close as she came crashing down from the peak he’d driven her to—that Harmon scared her and left her feeling confused. That Harmon was dangerous. She had a job to do here and she couldn’t allow herself to feel anything for him. According to Patterson, he had masterminded the theft and may even have been the one who came up with the idea to set her up.
Now, in the clear light of morning, she decided to shove the tender Harmon into a box and slam the lid on it. She’d learn to deal with the intense pain of the spankings, the shameful thrill she was discovering she felt at being submissive to him. She’d revel in the sex and let herself enjoy every minute of it. But next time she’d coolly pull herself together afterwards, instead of curling up in his arms and dissolving into a puddle of emotion.
When Sam knocked at the door, she was ready. To her surprise, he led her back down into the lobby and then into another elevator, one that had buttons for all the other floors in the building. “This is the easiest way to get to our public offices,” he explained as they rode up. “The only floor served by that other elevator is the penthouse.”
Bared by the Billionaire Page 7
