Violent Delights: A Dark Billionaire Romance

by Linnea May

  Now since this man took me, it has reversed all my efforts to become normal, peeling away layer after layer to reveal the warped mind underneath. And I’m beginning to love every moment of it. I don’t want to lose it. I want to know how much further we can go together, how deep this can get.

  My hand wanders up to my empty throat, tracing along the lines where the collar used to be. He never put it back on after bringing me back upstairs. I wonder if this morning was the beginning of our goodbye? Is he preparing me for my departure?

  Just as I want to turn away from the window and retreat to the bed for another nap, something catches my attention. It’s a car arriving at the house. I barely ever see cars on the country road passing by the house, and if I do, they’re usually just driving by.

  My first hope is that he’s returning, but I realize it’s not his car. This one is red and doesn’t look nearly as expensive as the one he was driving. And it’s slowing down in front of the house, disappearing from my view.

  I hurry over to the door to my room, closing my eyes and pressing my ear against the crack of the doorframe to listen for possible movement downstairs.

  My eyes open wide when I actually hear the sound of a heavy door opening and closing. It must be the front door. I hold my breath when I can hear footsteps moving around on the first floor. They sound different than the steps I hear when he’s moving around in the house. These are faster and smaller, and they are loud on the tiled floor in the entrance area. Heels. It must be a woman.

  I take a deep breath, focusing on the sound as the steps fade away. I’m not familiar enough with the floor plan of the house to know where the person might be heading, but I can tell that she isn’t coming upstairs.

  This could be it. My first chance to speak to another person since arriving here. My chance to get all the answers I’m seeking.

  My chance to get away.

  And yet, I don’t make a sound. I don’t scream for help. I don’t bang against the door. I just sit there, on my floor, in the room that has become my prison for the past two weeks.

  Quietly waiting until I hear the front door open and close again, watching from the window as the red car drives away from the house. Leaving me here alone again.

  Chapter 36

  Joseph

  I should have known that I’m not good at making exceptions. Exceptions tend to become the rule in my case. They don’t call it a slippery slope for nothing.

  It’s day thirteen, two days since I removed her training collar and brought her downstairs with me to have breakfast together like a freaking married couple.

  And now I’m doing it again. I’m making a fuss about something that is heavy with meaning, as if this was a true relationship, but should be nothing more in our case than a simple transition.

  Tonight, she will receive a new collar, a permanent one that she won’t be able to take off. Not until our time together comes to an end. The fact that there is a definite end to our arrangement is the difference. I hate thinking about it.

  She earned her collar, unlike many others before her. It’s my way of showing her that she’s truly special to me, even if the gesture goes beyond her understanding.

  I know she misses it, she’s been asking about it, mentioning that her neck feels ‘weirdly bare’ now that I took it off. She cast me questioning looks all day yesterday, probably wondering if she gave me any reason to be unsatisfied with her. Taking the collar feels like a punishment to her, which shows that she’s ready for the next step.

  But I don’t know if she fully understands the meaning behind a more permanent collar, or if she’ll feel the same way once she realizes she won’t be able to take it off.

  She has received clear instructions, and I can rely on her newfound willingness to obey. I told her to put on the slinky red dress and doll herself up a little. This time, she will wear a sexy pair of stockings under her dress, and this time she’ll beg me to fuck her once we’re done with everything else.

  She’ll be my queen tonight, until it’s time to treat her otherwise.

  While I do cook on a regular basis, in no way am I capable of creating something special enough for the occasion, so I make another exception and ask my personal chef to stop by in the afternoon to prepare a meal for us. Something light yet elaborate, the exact opposite of my style of cooking.

  I’m wearing the same suit I wore two days ago, knowing that she’ll appreciate it. The way she looked at me suggested that she liked it a lot, and it was confirmed when she invited me to fuck her for a second time that morning. She’s turning into such a perfect little pet that I’m already dreading the day when I’ll have to let her go.

  She’s kneeling in the middle of the room, wearing the red dress that hugs her slim frame so tightly that she’s forced to keep her legs closed in a modest way. Her chin lifts when she hears me approaching, but her eyes don’t open until I kiss her, silently giving her permission to look at me.

  “You look beautiful,” I praise her. “Wait here.”

  She’s well-behaved enough to not turn her head when I walk over to the connected room to fetch something else from the cabinet that she’ll wear during our dinner.

  “Get up,” I order her once I step back inside her room, watching as she gets up on her feet. She’s wearing the heels I took from her on the first day because I knew they would look good with the dress. Her hair is styled in a pinned up-do, another thing I asked her to do.

  “You’ve been complaining about your neck being so bare these past two days,” I begin, while I circle around her, taking in her breathtaking view before I come to a halt in front of her.

  She’s smiling at me, beaming with joyful anticipation.

  “Am I getting it back?” she asks.

  I shake my head, not missing the hint of disappointment on her face.

  “No,” I tell her. “You’re getting something nicer.”

  Her face lights up when I reach inside the pocket of my suit jacket, producing a new collar for her to wear. It’s a black leather collar, just like the one she had before, but this one has a heart-shaped lock at the front instead of a simple d-ring.

  “The first one was just a training collar,” I tell her. “This one is different. This says you’re mine. You won’t be able to take it off on your own.”

  “I never took off the other one either,” she says, her eyes casting back and forth between me and the collar in my hand.

  “Yes, that’s why you deserve this one,” I continue. “You’ve been a very good girl for me. I’m a pleased Master, ready to collar my pet.”

  Her breathing changes when I step forward to lock the collar around her neck. She’s panting with excitement, her gray-blue eyes sparkling with anticipation as my hands caress the sensitive skin around her neck.

  A sigh escapes her lush lips when the lock clicks shut. I don’t need a key to close it, just to open it, and if everything goes according to plan, I won’t open this lock before another twenty-six days have passed. That’s when the contract ends and I will have to let her go, something I need to keep reminding myself of because it seems too hard to believe.

  “Thank you,” she breathes, radiating a happiness that is so raw and honest, that I truly want to believe its sincerity.

  “Thank you for being such a good pet,” I tell her. “Earning your submission is a pleasure.”

  With her, it really feels like I had to earn it, despite the knowledge that she’s going to be paid handsomely for this. She made me fight for it, she made me do things I’d normally never even consider. She deserves so much more than this.

  “We’re having dinner downstairs tonight to mark the special occasion,” I let her know. “But before we go, there’s something else I want you to wear.”

  She nods without knowing what I might be referring to, and I’m sure she’s expecting some kind of jewelry.

  Well, she’s not entirely wrong about that. I reach into my other pocket, revealing a little diamond plug. She looks at with bewild
ered fascination and curiosity.

  “Is that…?”

  I step closer, placing my index finger on her lips to stop her from speaking, replacing it with my lips a moment later. She moans when I claim her with a kiss, responding to me like she should, her body squirming against mine with need. I reach around, tracing along the small of her back, before traveling beneath her sexy dress. She was asked to wear nothing but stockings underneath, and she obeyed her orders. I don’t even have to tell her to spread her legs for me. She does it all on her own, greedily leaning into my touch, as I part her lips to fondle the wetness between them.

  “Fuck, Ruby,” I breathe between our kisses. “So wet for me, what a good pet you are.”

  She smiles, moaning as I trace the tip of the plug along her wet lips, gently pushing the tip inside her, before retreating, gathering up more of her juices as I allow my fingers to trail along her core. This is not meant for her pussy.

  She gasps when I grab her ass with the other hand, spreading her cheeks apart while teasing her tight hole with the dampened tip of the plug.

  “That’s right,” I breathe. “This will spread your tight little ass for me.”

  She sighs heartily when I force the plug inside, smoothly pushing until it sits securely. I tap on it a few times, testing her reaction to it. Ruby is panting in my arms, while she accommodates the feeling of the plug stretching her. Her dainty hands crawl into the fabric of my suit, pulling us even closer together.

  “Do you like it?” I whisper in her ear.

  “Yes,” she replies breathlessly. “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 37

  Liana

  This is both the most agonizing and most wonderful dinner I’ve ever had in my life. We’re sitting opposite one another and dining on a spread of light tapas, each dish so exquisite that I relish every single bite. Cured olives, lucques, an assortment of steamed vegetables each with its own surprisingly characteristic taste, and a small selection of undoubtedly expensive cheeses, topped off with a bottle of exquisite red wine that tastes divine and probably costs more than my apartment’s monthly rent.

  I’ve never been wined and dined like this, never been treated to such a lavish dinner, and definitely never while wearing a diamond anal plug. It’s such an intriguing sensation that I can‘t calm down. I’m so pleasantly agitated that it’s a struggle for me to concentrate on the food and wine.

  “You look tense,” he teases me, as he has often does.

  I reach for my crystal wine glass, casting him a sassy smile as I take another sip.

  “I’m fine,” I say. “Thank you for this wonderful dinner.”

  “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he says. “You like getting your ass spread, too, don’t you?”

  The suddenness with which he poses an unexpected question like this gets me every time.

  “I do,” I say, blushing and shying away from his gaze.

  “Describe how it feels to me,” he says.

  I ignore his command, instead keeping myself occupied with another bite of the steamed and spiced vegetables. I never knew that a simple piece of cauliflower could taste this good.

  “Pet,” he admonishes. “Describe it to me.”

  My eyes meet his, my heart jumping under his warning gaze. His deep-searching demeanor reaches a part of me that has never been touched before, and I can’t help but respond to it in the way I do.

  “I’m not good at describing things,” I tell him, afraid of embarrassing myself.

  “You’ll have to learn how then,” he says. “Go ahead, describe the feeling to me.”

  Oh, for God’s sake. Why this? I’ve never been a fan of dirty talk, mainly because I suck at it and feel like an idiot every time I try. It’s so much easier for me to follow other commands, like getting on my knees, posing for him, sucking on his exquisitely exciting cock.

  “I’m more of a doer than a talker,” I reply, winking at him across the table.

  I was hoping this remark would steer him in another direction, to one I’m more comfortable with, maybe asking me to show him something or do something instead of making me say things.

  But he’s doesn’t move on.

  “Describe it to me,” he repeats, emphasizing every syllable.

  I roll my eyes at him, something I know he hates. It works like a charm if I want to get his attention in a certain way.

  “Did you just roll your eyes at me?” he wants to know, leaning back in his chair with his hand resting on the table, impatiently tapping with his fingers.

  “Maybe,” I reply in an intentionally sassy tone.

  “You know what I think of that,” he says. “I give you a collar, wine and dine you like a perfect gentleman, and you roll your eyes at me when I ask you to do one simple thing?”

  I smirk at him. His tone is changing, and so is the expression on his face. The candlelight is dancing in his hazel eyes, giving life to a spark that exists there.

  “It’s not a simple thing,” I say. “It’s silly. I don’t like talking about it.”

  I’ve never teased him like this, and I love the way his expression changes from moment to moment, waiting for me to retreat, trying to follow his order because I’m too scared of the consequences.

  But I’m not scared. Not tonight.

  I’m both horny and curious to see what he will do if I keep going on like this. I know this is not serious enough of an offense for me to end up in the attic, but it will hurt. It’s been too long since I’ve felt those harshly placed and deliberate stings on my skin. I crave them more than I knew possible.

  “Watch it, my pet,” he warns one more time. “You’re walking on thin ice.”

  I hesitate for a moment, trying to come up with something else I could do to get what I want. But I’ve never been a very creative person.

  “Uh oh, thin ice,” I mock, rolling my eyes again. “What, oh, what, could that mean?”

  I wince when he jumps up from his chair. A mixture of delicious fear and lust shoots through my body when he circles the table to approach me, grabbing my upper arm and pulling me up on my feet.

  He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my body, one hand traveling under my dress. He applies pressure on the toy inserted in my ass, causing me to gasp. His face is so close to mine that we’re almost kissing.

  “So that’s how you want to play tonight?” he asks in a hoarse whisper. “You want a real inauguration?”

  My eyes are locked on his, reciprocating the fierceness with which he looks at me.

  “I want pain,” I tell him. “Show me how far it can go.”

  His eyes flicker with understanding, a dark warning fleeting through them that makes my heart jump.

  I yelp out in surprise when he lifts me up as if I weigh nothing, turning around and marching out of the kitchen while carrying me over his shoulder like prey.

  “Let’s hope you don’t regret this.”

  Chapter 38

  Liana

  I know that things will be serious this time when he brings me up to the dark play room next to my bedroom.

  He turns to me, scanning me from head to toe.

  “That dress looks lovely on you,” he says, and just when I want to thank him for the compliment, he steps forward and pulls it down off my shoulder and draws down the zipper in one swift motion. The dress falls down to puddle around my feet, leaving me almost naked. I’m wearing nothing but the stockings and a black garter belt underneath, and he stares at me hungrily with his approving gaze.

  “This looks even better,” he says, stepping forward to pull me in for a kiss. I know he can’t resist the desire to touch me when I’m standing this exposed in front of him. I’m not surprised to feel his hand slip between my legs, urging me to spread them apart. I moan through our kiss when he slides his thick fingers along my damp entrance, humming with approval as he’s met with my dripping warm juices.

  “So excited already,” he breathes after he breaks our kiss. “Get on there.”

  He
gestures toward the black leather bench that looks like a pommel horse. “Knees here, wrists over there.”

  I follow his instructions and place myself on the horse as requested. He repositions me a little, so that my core is exposed on the edge, while I support myself on my knees and wrists. He fastens the shackles around my wrists first, making sure that they fit securely, but not too tight by wiggling them, and then he does the same around my knees.

  “What do you think will happen now?” he asks. He‘s now standing at my back, his eyes resting on me as he watches me adjust to the bench.

  “A spanking?” I ask, hope radiating in my voice.

  He chuckles and walks over to the cabinet. My eyes follow him, as he opens the glass door.

  “You say that as if you’re looking forward to it,” he says. “Remember, this is a punishment.”

  “I am looking forward to it,” I tell him.

  He doesn’t go for a whip or a flogger this time, both utensils I’m familiar with. I know what the pain of leather strings cutting into the flesh on your behind feels like. But I don’t know how it feels to be hit with a paddle, which is what he takes from the cabinet. It’s about as large as both of his hands put together and made of wood.

  He sees my eyes widening in anxious fascination, as he walks back to the bench, approaching me with a dark promise in his smile.

  “Read this for me,” he says as he holds the paddle up to my face.

  A smile plays around the corners of my mouth when I see what’s written on the wooden paddle in mirrored text.

  “Pet,” I read out loud.

  “Good girl,” he praises me, tracing the paddle along my spine as he moves to the back of the bench.

  “It’s time for you to learn your place,” he says, gently caressing my left ass cheek with the paddle as he speaks. “This will be written all over your perfect ass when I’m done with you. Would you like that?”

  “Yes, Master,” I breathe, shivering with anticipation when he lifts the paddle up, only to move it over to my right side and stroke it along the curve of my other cheek.