The Dom's Virgin: A Dark Billionaire Romance

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The Dom's Virgin: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 12

by Penelope Bloom


  “Do I need to take off your socks, Sir?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I say, loving the way she immediately falls to her knees and starts to pull them off. She’s saving my briefs for last, either out of fear or because she wants to save the best part for last. Either reason is completely fine with me.

  Once she has stripped my shoes and socks she raises her eyes to my briefs, standing again. I can see her gathering courage. She hooks her fingers under the waistband and yanks down with surprising force. My cock springs free and she gasps slightly, eyes widening and forehead crinkling as she looks at it.

  “Not yet,” I say, when I think she’s about to reach for me. I make my voice a little harsher and more stern. “You forget yourself. You do as I say, when I say. Nothing more, nothing less. Am I clear?”

  She hangs her head. “Yes, Sir.”

  I lift her chin with my finger and step close enough that my hard cock is pressed against her stomach. I kiss her tenderly. “I fucking love that you want it so badly though.”

  She smiles a little and leans her forehead into my chin.

  I take her by the hand and lead her to the side of the bed. I lie down and pull her up, taking her by the hips and bringing her forward until she can sit on me. I can tell she’s embarrassed as hell, but her pussy is glistening wet for me.

  “Did you shave yourself just for me?” I ask.

  “Yes, Sir,” she says.

  “You have a fucking beautiful pussy,” I say, gripping her hips and pulling her down until the weight of her body presses down on me. I don’t take it slow with her. I don’t ease into it.

  I use my tongue on her in every way imaginable, circling her clit, running down the length of her slit and plunging inside her opening, swirling inside her and curling it back to press against her walls. Her initial stiffness and discomfort evaporates within seconds. Soon, she’s leaning back, hands tight on my thighs and breasts bouncing as she rides my face. I squeeze her ass hard, and judging from the way she grinds her hips against my face, she likes it. A lot.

  Her thighs begin to quiver and she holds herself still, gasping for breath and arching her back. She’s about to cum, but I’m not ready to let her yet. I’m going to bring her so close to the edge that the moment my cock enters her, she’ll cum for me.

  I grip her by the hips and twist out from under her, pulling her toward me and laying her down on the bed. Her chest heaves and she’s looking at me like she wants to hit me for stopping when I did.

  I grin.

  She can try to hit me if she wants. It will just give me an excuse to punish her.

  15

  Brianne

  “Hands above your head, Princess,” he commands. His voice is cold steel, hard and uncompromising--I obey.

  He leans over the side of the bed and pulls out a black piece of fabric. I realize it’s a hood just as he pulls it over my head. I try not to panic, but I suck in quick, frantic breaths that pull the fabric against my mouth. I feel like I’m suffocating, like I can’t breathe. My hands instinctively come down to pull at the mask, but he pins them still.

  “I’m here,” he says softly. His voice is close and comforting. “In and out. You can breathe perfectly fine, you’re just surprised. Easy. Easy.”

  His hand splays across my chest, pressing down slightly and helping me focus on my breathing. Calm. Controlled. Normal. After a few seconds I realize he’s right, I can breathe completely fine.

  “Sorry, I jus--”

  “Do you remember the safe word?” he asks.

  My heartbeat quickens. Why is he asking me this now? What is he planning? “Yes, Sir,” I say.

  “Good. I’m not tying you in this position, but if you move, I will be forced to punish you. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper.

  I feel the bed shift under me and bounce back as he leaves. His bare feet slap softly against the tile and get quieter as he walks to the other side of the room. A wooden drawer that’s well made and barely audible glides open. He picks up something heavy and then something lighter, plastic, maybe.

  I hear a sharp snapping sound and can’t place it at first, not until I smell the faint odor of smoke and burning wax. A lighter and a candle. But why?

  Something hot splashes on the small of my back and my body reflexively tries to curl in on itself. I hold firm though, remembering his command. But if this isn’t punishment, what is?

  “Pain and pleasure are easily confused,” he says slowly.

  Another drop of wax lands between my shoulder blades. I scrunch my eyes against the brief heat.

  “We understand it as children, but seem to forget as adults. It’s the same way love and hate are so near to one another. A girl likes a boy, and...”

  A drop right above the crease of my ass this time. My mouth opens slightly and my eyebrows draw down. The skin there must be more sensitive, because the brief explosion of heat is more intense.

  “And the girl shows the boy she likes him by chasing him and teasing him on the playground. One powerful emotion mingles with another, and instead of canceling the other out, they only intensify. The two together are greater than they would be apart.”

  Another drop lands on the back of my thigh. I press my legs together, breathing out slowly and focusing on his words, the sensual sound of his voice and the way it washes over me.

  I nearly gasp out loud when his hand slides up the inside of my thigh. The movement is slow, seductive, and has every inch of my skin tingling in response.

  “The pain intensifies the pleasure,” he says, as if in explanation. “Hot and cold. Fire and ice. Your body will try to grow accustomed to the stimulation. If I give you only pleasure, the sensation will lose its intensity. But,” he says softly just as another drop of wax drops against my calf. “Even the slightest pain can reset the dial.” His fingers move against my slit, which is hot and wet for him, throbbing with need.

  His touch is like an explosion. The slightest movement makes me shudder and dig my fingers into the pillows, biting down. “Oh, God,” I gasp.

  Jackson’s strong hands flip me over and press my legs apart. The hood is pulled off my head and I squint against the now-bright light. My vision doesn’t adjust immediately, and his powerful body over mine is hazy and a blur. The light behind him halos his silhouette making him seem like something divine. And as the detail comes back bit by bit, I’m not so sure he isn’t. His skin is temptingly smooth, cut and carved with muscle. There’s not an ounce of fat on him.

  My eyes trace the endless rack of abs and the sharp V of muscle pointing toward his very large, very erect cock.

  I can’t move. I’m not bound or tied to the bed in any way, but I might as well be. His power over me in this moment is so absolute that I couldn’t move if I wanted to. I’m his. I’m at his complete command.

  My muscles tighten when he plants his hands beside my head and lowers himself over me, bending his neck to kiss me tenderly. He pulls back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Stay with my voice. Focus on it. Be with me, here. Nowhere else. Just here,” he says, kissing my cheek and the side of my neck. “Only here,” he whispers as I feel something press against my opening.

  My heart races. My chest heaves. It’s going to happen. It’s really, finally going to happen. I expected to feel so many things, but the fear and doubt are completely dulled. My entire body tingles like an electric current is flowing through me, and everywhere Jackson touches is a point of perfect, white heat that relaxes me. It’s impossible to be afraid when he’s in control. He’s my dom, and all I need to do is submit to him. It’s so simple, but in the simplicity is a freedom, a perfect release.

  “My voice,” he repeats between kisses. “Focus on it.”

  I do. I listen as he whispers commands in my ear, studying the sound of his words, the deep rumble from his chest and the smooth way the sounds leaves his mouth. When I listen hard enough, I can almost feel it vibrating within me, part of me.

  His cock still sits ju
st against my opening, the only movement his mouth against me.

  “Now,” he says. “Let your body focus where it will.”

  He falls silent and drives his hips forward. It’s a slow, but purposeful movement. There’s a slight pinching at first as my walls have to stretch for him, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. I feel something give with a brief jolt of pain as he pushes deeper, and then it’s only pleasant, unbelievable warmth and fullness. The sensations he ignited in me come flooding back all at once. I throw my head back and my mouth opens in a silent gasp.

  I cum like I’ve never cum before. I convulse in on myself, digging my fingers into his arms to keep anchored, as if I might be washed away with the force of this moment. When I finally manage to fill my lungs, I hear a sound coming from my own mouth I don’t recognize. I can’t stop it though, and I moan shamelessly, working my hips into him, desperate for more friction and more sensation, feeling my core clenching around him.

  I force my eyes open and look into his. He looks down at me with an expression I can only think of as possessive, like he has claimed me and he’s proud to know I’m his. Like he has marked me. I’m surprised to find a pride of my own to be owned by him.

  “I’m sorry,” I say when the last of my orgasm has finally faded.

  He’s still inside me, huge cock pulsing with his heartbeat. I could lay like this for hours, just knowing we’re joined so intimately, savoring in the sensation and the knowledge of his presence.

  “Never be sorry for what just happened,” he says huskily. “You were more perfect than you can ever know.”

  “But I only lasted like two seconds before I…”

  He silences me with a tender kiss, grinning as he pulls back. “Princess, you did exactly what you were supposed to do. Besides, it’s only guys who need to apologize if they cum too fast. If you thought you were only going to have one orgasm tonight, you’re in for a surprise.”

  I raise my eyebrows and then let my head fall back into the pillow. He starts to move himself inside me again, and I realize it’s going to be a long, unbelievable, and unforgettable night.

  16

  Jackson

  I drop Brianne off outside her dorm the next morning, waving as she smiles over her shoulder and steps inside. As I’m getting back in my car, I notice a black SUV with heavily tinted windows slowly pull away from where it’s parked on the side of the road. Something about it gives me a bad feeling. I realize after a second it’s the same SUV that was behind me for most of my drive to Brianne’s campus.

  It could just be a coincidence, but I’m not interested in taking that risk.

  I gun the gas until I’m able to pull in front of the SUV and block the road. I step out of the car, still feeling a faint ache in my back from the accident a few weeks ago. One of the doors to the SUV swings open. I’m walking around to confront them when a man I recognize steps out. One of the businessmen from the Dominican. He’s wearing dark sunglasses. He pulls his hands back to rest them on his hips, splaying his sport coat as he does and flashing a pistol that’s holstered at his side.

  I feel my face twitch in rage. This fucking asshole thinks he can intimidate me?

  I take three long steps toward him until we’re face to face and I’m looking down into his sunglasses at my own reflection.

  “You following me?” I ask through clenched teeth.

  I notice the passenger in the car has a pistol in his hand too. He’s watching me closely as I stand next to the other man.

  “Just taking a tour of the campus,” says the man in front of me.

  “That’s cute,” I say. “Well, the exit is right over there,” I say, pointing to my left. “And if I see you fuckers creeping around here again, you’ll need more than those fucking pea shooters to stop me from ending you.”

  The man smirks. “You a student here?” he asks. “Oh, wait. No, you’re just worried about that tight little ass you just dropped off. What is her room number aga--”

  His voice cuts off when I grip his throat and slam him against the car. The passenger reaches for his seatbelt, but I jab my free hand in his direction. “Move and I’ll end this piece of shit”

  My heart thunders in my chest. Cars are starting to build up on either side of us, but no one seems to want to step out of their car and get involved.

  “You’re making a mistake,” croaks the man I’m choking.

  “Yeah,” I say, yanking him toward me so I can shove him back into the car again to emphasize my point. “You’re right. Because you already know it’d be the last mistake you ever made to fuck with me again. Right?”

  He gives me a dark look. “Something like that.”

  He slides into the car and slams the door shut. He guns the gas and rams the back of my car. There’s a deafening crash as the SUV plows through my smaller sport’s car and leaves a pile of shattered glass in its wake. College students start getting out of their cars now to ask if I’m okay. I sniff derisively as I watch after the SUV.

  A month ago I wouldn’t have cared. I still felt like it was only a matter of time till the universe decided to pay me back for all the pain and death I’ve left in my wake. My adoptive father, Karen, and all the women I’ve used and tossed aside in my never-ending attempt to forget the past. I would’ve opened my arms wide and welcomed the bullet these Dominicans probably want to put in my chest. But that was before Brianne.

  Now, I can’t lose my Princess. And I sure as hell can’t risk this mess involving her somehow. I don’t know if she could handle knowing about this. Not right now, at least. Besides, what good would telling her do? It would just make her worry. It would add to her stress. Telling her would be selfish, just a way for me to unburden myself.

  “You okay, man?” asks a student with dreadlocks.

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “Oh my God,” says a girl dressed like she’s on her way to a track meet. “Your beautiful car. I’m so sorry.”

  I wave it off. “Fuck it. It’s just a car.”

  I leave behind the growing crowd of students who want to gawk at the destruction and call for a driver to come pick me up. I call Hunter next and ask him to meet me at the golfing range.

  Hunter’s wearing a white polo and slacks. He looks perfectly in place among the country club snobs waltzing around the multi-level golfing range. It’s a huge, boomerang shaped building six stories high with hundreds of tees set up. There’s a net four hundred yards out surrounding the entire green below to keep the golf balls contained. The constant clink of drivers against plastic balls and muted conversation creates a feeling of privacy, even while surrounded by people.

  I’m sweating and have stripped off my jacket and undone a very un-classy number of buttons on my shirt. But fuck it. I don’t know if I ever really cared too strongly for appearances, and I sure as hell don’t now.

  “You look like shit,” says Hunter.

  “Yeah, at least I only look like shit when I’ve been through hell. You wake up that way.”

  He chuckles. “Very funny. Mind explaining what was so urgent you had to drag me away from work to meet you?”

  “The Dominicans followed me. They watched me drop off Brianne. I thought something was up, so I confronted them and, well, I got the impression they haven’t forgiven my unsound financial advice.”

  “No shit,” says Hunter. “What are you going to do, though?”

  I shrug. My impulse is to say the same thing I said back in the hospital after the accident. Take care of it. But now I’m not so sure anymore. That was before I really understood how important Brianne was to me. It was when I still didn’t care what became of me. If I wound up in jail or buried, I’d be leaving her behind. And fuck, now that I’ve had a taste of her submission, I don’t want to risk having her out of my reach.

  “I’m going to find a way to keep her safe from all this. I have to.”

  “Look, man,” sighs Hunter. “I’m not trying to piss you off here, but what is a guy like you going to do? You’re
a fucking publishing executive. It’s not like you can just go grab an assault rifle from your private stash and gun them down.”

  “I made it this far because of what’s in here,” I say, tapping my forehead. “I’ll figure something out.”

  Hunter shakes his head. “I just don’t think it’ll be so simple.”

  “It’s irrelevant. Whether it’s going to be simple or not, it’s a problem I have to deal with. So I’ll find a fucking way to deal with it.”

  Once Hunter leaves, I make a call to Fairfield’s and ask them to move my sister to a more secure wing of the hospital. I know the move will probably set her off, but I have to accept it. I have no way of knowing if these fuckers followed me on one of my visits to Fairfield’s too.

  I clench my fists and grit my teeth. I feel like a lion cornered by jackals. But there could be so many that striking out against one will just open up the people I care about to harm. I look through my contacts and make a few calls until I get a number for one of the Dominicans.

  I punch his number into the phone and wait.

  “I wondered when you’d call,” says a voice with a thick accent.

  “What do you want? Money? Just name your price,” I say coldly.

  The man chuckles. “It was never about the money. It was about the fucking gringo who thought he could make fools of us.”

  “I was drunk off my ass,” I growl. “I don’t even remember shit about that night.”

  “A coward begs for his life when he sees the end closing in. A man sets his jaw and stands to face it. Tell me, Mr. Pierce, which are you?”

  My temper boils over. “Let me make one thing clear as fucking crystal. You so much as show your face near me or anyone I care about, and I will come for you until I’ve killed or put every last one of you behind bars.”

  The man laughs deeply. “We’ll see about that.”

  “You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?” asks Brianne. She’s dressed elegantly, like I asked. She has on long, dangling earrings that sparkle as we drive beneath the streetlights. Her blonde hair is curled and bounces slightly with the movement of the car, making me picture how it would bounce the same way if I pounded into her. Thinking about her has a way of pushing all the noise out of my mind. The Dominicans are a big fucking problem, but when I’m with Brianne it’s hard to keep my mind on it. All I can think about is how the thin material of her dress hugs that pure body of hers. The body I claimed.

 

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