The Nightingale Trilogy: An Alpha Billionaire Romantic Suspense

by Cynthia Dane

  “I’ll show you the night of your life.”

  Chapter 9

  A Long Lost Release

  “Don’t move.”

  Monica stood in front of her bed, staring at the swirls in her comforter as Henry Warren came up behind her and put his hands on her hips. She didn’t move, as told. Nerves were killing themselves inside her stomach, her chest, and her groin – all because Henry’s voice growled every time that head of dark blond hair came closer to destroying Monica’s sanity.

  “I can’t tell if I should call you a princess…” Henry kissed the nape of her neck, his tongue trailing down to her bare shoulder and then the space between side and arm. “Or a queen.”

  He undid her hair. Fine locks of chestnut landed on her shoulder and fell toward her breasts. The clip holding it all together dropped to the floor. “Call me whatever you want, Mr. Warren.”

  “I like it when you say that.” Henry’s hands pushed beneath her breasts and lifted them up, making her cleavage even more ridiculous in that dress. Her zipper slowly came undone toward her rear. “Tonight you will call me Mr. Warren or sir. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I mean it, Monica.” His fingers were like daggers shooting into her flesh. “Don’t disappoint me.”

  “I would never. Disappointing you would break my heart.”

  “Neither of us wants that. Now be silent and do as you’re told. Do that, and I’ll take care of your needs.”

  Monica shivered for the millionth time that night. Her skin was on fire, her stomach broiling, and her heart fluttering so quickly she thought every breath would be her last. The anticipation would make her come before anything Henry did to her. Yet she said nothing, as told. I love being told not to talk. The real challenge came when her Doms told her to be silent during her orgasms. She hoped Henry wouldn’t do that tonight.

  “Stay still.” Although gentle, his voice was still rigid. “I want to explore you.”

  He sounded like an adventurer when he said that. The type of man who climbed mountains and tamed wild horses. I’m neither. She was a she-wolf queen inviting this stranger into her den for mating. A queen who usually had the reins, but tonight she was turning them over to this alpha male.

  Henry poked his finger into the dip of her zipper, tickling the top of her rear. His teeth bit the shawl and pulled it off her back and arms. She saw it fly across the room and land on her dresser. The skirt of her dress pulled up over her rear, exposing her black lingerie.

  Monica waited for him to tell her to bend over. Or to push his fingers inside of her because he wouldn’t believe any testimony as to how wet she was. Yet he didn’t do either. Instead he wrapped his arms around her midsection and pressed his hardness against her.

  “Do you want it, my princess?” he asked, licking the tip of her ear. “You’re not a virginal princess, are you?” When Monica didn’t answer, he remembered his order and said, “You can answer that.”

  “No, Mr. Warren. I’m not a virgin.”

  “How many men have been inside you?”

  “Inside me? Three.”

  The silence killed her.

  “I’m sorry, sir, it’s too many.”

  “No, not at all. It’s a good amount of experience. I’m assuming you like it.”

  “Very much so, sir.”

  “And what do you like most, Princess?” Henry rubbed himself against her, reminding her that he had something to offer besides money and conversation. “The size? The entry? The ending?”

  “I like all three, Mr. Warren.”

  He grasped her shoulders and pushed her down. Hair obscured her face as she looked toward her carpet, her lingerie straining against her slit. “Get down on your knees.”

  The sound of another zipper coming undone thrilled Monica as she dropped, shoes kicking off behind her and hands helping her to turn around toward her Dom. My master. She didn’t want to say that out loud yet. That was too intimate.

  Not as intimate as what she saw right in front of her face the moment she looked up again, however. Henry’s erect and ready cock was out.

  She didn’t wait for her order. Monica could sometimes be a naughty princess who anticipated exactly what her Dom wanted. When a man told her to get on her knees and took out his cock, it only meant one thing.

  Monica sighed, hand wrapping around the base of his cock as her lips pressed against the side. Henry stirred within her grasp, hardening more, his one moan encouraging Monica to keep going. Her other hand disappeared into his trousers and massaged his sack. Her tongue followed a single vein down his shaft before encountering dark hair that tickled and delighted her lips.

  “Fuck.” The first time hearing him say it like that, and it couldn’t have come at a better moment. Monica wanted to know that she was undoing this man. He may be her Dom, but he was still a man, and to topple him in pleasure was one of her many skills as a talented submissive. “Suck my cock, Princess. I’ve been waiting for this moment for half an eternity now.”

  So had Monica, but she didn’t mention that.

  She went to work on him, not in the least disappointed by the size he gave her to adore. His girth was the most impressive. Monica could wrap her mouth around most men, but Henry gave her a little trouble at first, until she remembered to relax and let him meet her halfway. Even so, she anchored her hand around the bottom of his hard shaft, letting her fingers nestle in the soft hairs as the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat welcomed him into her. Nothing leading up to this moment had been as satisfying.

  Deep breath after deep breath filled Monica as she pulled him into her mouth and used her tongue to stimulate him the most. She found that vein again and traced it, letting it lead her to the head of his cock and then back down to her hand. When he proved not interested in thrusting into her mouth, Monica relaxed her gag and let him slide farther down her throat. Her teeth lightly – very lightly – grazed him.

  “Look at me.”

  She glanced up. Henry had undone his tie and lost his jacket on her bed. Let me undress you. Monica’s free hand circled his waist and grabbed his ass, firm, and flesh unyielding. There was power in his hips. Monica almost closed her eyes again to imagine the cock in her mouth fucking a different pair of lips.

  “Enough.” Henry lost their staring contest and looked toward the ceiling. “For God’s sake, Monica, enough.”

  She eased off him and sat on her legs. “Are you pleased?”

  “I told you not to speak unless I give you permission. Did I give you permission?”

  She shook her head.

  “Then behave.” Henry grabbed a chunk of her hair but did not pull it. It tugged on her scalp, but pleasantly so, his fingers burying into her head while he studied her form. “Turn around on your hands and knees. Keep your ass in the air.”

  Monica did as told, coming face to material with the carpet as her elbows supported her and her knees dug into the floor. Fuck me, Henry.

  “Move your hair out of the way. I want to see your back.”

  It fell beside her, and the air was warm against her skin.

  “Now stay still and don’t make a sound. Be a good princess. It’s not time to punish you.”

  She had no idea what he was doing, and she didn’t care. He could light a cigar and have a drink while she stayed like that, and it would thrill her all the same. Of course, she hoped against hope that Henry would pull her onto his cock and end the frustration brewing between them for over a month.

  Monica did not look up, so all she knew about what was going on came from the quiet groans in Henry’s throat. He sounded so far away, yet close, and they shared an intimacy that told Monica few got to hear him so vulnerable. He’s no virginal prince. She preferred it that way. Much preferred it that way. She wanted him to know what he was doing and how he should give it to her. Hard. Fast. I don’t care. Be slow and sensual, just do it!

  His groans turned into grunts. Moni
ca focused on them, wanting to reach between her legs and stroke herself to the sounds of Henry Warren taking pleasure from her. Sometimes serving wasn’t about doing anything at all. Sometimes it was about getting on one’s knees and exposing one’s bare back to a man towering over her.

  “You’re mine, Princess.” It was the last thing he said before climaxing onto her skin.

  Monica gasped into the carpet, the warmth of his seed hitting her skin most unexpectedly. She never anticipated him coming so soon. Then again, the man was so wound up for a night that was supposed to be long and purposeful that he probably needed the early release. Now Monica was left with him all over her. At first it hit her between the shoulders, then the small of her back, and then the base of her zipper where her ass poked out. That’s a lot… Was he normally that generous, or was it her?

  He didn’t have to tell her what he meant by his words and action. I’m his. I’m all his tonight. The primal instinct for the alpha male to claim the she-wolf as his.. I’m his. It allowed him to take his time with her now. And in turn, Monica got to revel in the fact that Henry Warren wanted her enough.

  “Get up.”

  Henry was no longer erect when Monica gingerly sat up and turned around, her Dom’s spent seed sliding down her back and wrapping around her sides to her breasts. Some of it remained on the head of his cock, and it took every bit of restraint to not lean forward and lick it off for him. I would. I love that.

  “Did you like that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The thumb touching her chin was both gentle and demanding. Give me more. “Do you want to stop?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Monica walked away from him.

  “Where are you going?”

  She opened a drawer in one of her dressers. What she pulled out was none other than the silver and diamond collar.

  Two minutes later she was strung up by silk rope to the hook hanging above her bed. The collar wrapped snugly around her throat, but did not choke her. The leash fell around her in a spiral, Henry Warren yanking it until she yelped in surprise.

  “You’re a foul princess now, aren’t you?” He tugged again, Monica’s head nodding backward as her hair became tangled in the metal links of the leash. “Tied up in bed with a man’s seed dripping on you. Tell me how filthy you are.”

  “I’m filthy, sir. My skin has been corrupted.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Henry mumbled. He knelt on the bed with one knee, the other foot supporting him on the floor. His buttons were open now. I want to touch his bare chest. Toned, firm… the man worked out. “You like being a filthy princess, don’t you?”

  “I wish to be defiled.”

  Something smacked her ass. It wasn’t his hand, but the end of the leash. Monica couldn’t move with her arms suspended above her, but her legs buckled, splitting apart and making her slit come closer to the bed. “Make as much noise as you want, Princess.”

  Gladly. Henry ripped her dress upward, smacking the hard, silver leash against her ass in quick succession. Smack! One. Smack! Two. Smack! Three. Monica shuddered every time, her teeth biting her bottom lip as she whimpered and then cried out in beautiful pain. She waited for a fourth one, but it never came.

  “Do you want more?”

  “Yes, Mr. Warren!”

  “Too bad. You’ll have to earn them now. Do you know how to earn another spanking?”

  “No, sir, please tell me.”

  “Every time you show me your filthy side, I’ll punish you with a spank. You don’t get anything else until you’ve proven to me that you are the filthiest woman I know.”

  Henry was generous in the examples he let her show. When he pulled her dress off her, letting it pool around her, he commented on how hard her nipples were. Smack! Four.

  Her knees shook whenever he came close to her breasts. Smack! Five.

  His seed had spread across her back, wetting her underwear. Smack! Six.

  She whimpered when he pinched her nipple. Smack! Seven.

  “Please give me one more,” he made Monica beg. “Only I want your hand.”

  Henry dropped the leash and spanked her with his hand. When it lingered on her ass, he finally realized how wet she was.

  It prompted him to remove her underwear. Slowly at first, but even Henry could not deny how eager he was to see what she kept inside them. His frustration reached the point that he ripped them, and they fell away from her thighs and slit.

  Smack! Nine. For being wet.

  I can’t stand it. Her arousal was so great that her wetness dripped from her center and trickled downed her thighs. The scent alone, mingling with the scent of Henry’s seed on her skin, made her look to the ceiling and curse the rope keeping her immobile. Otherwise she would turn around and demand he take her right now.

  “One more, Monica,” he said. “Your ass is so red. And you have no idea how much I want to fuck you.”

  “I do, Mr. Warren,” she replied out of turn. “Because I want you to just as badly.”

  She was naked, and he was almost naked. Henry removed his shirt, standing before Monica and showing her what she longed to touch. His cock was half-erect again. She wanted to touch that too.

  Henry looked at her spread thighs and chuckled. “I guess so. I should be flattered, Princess, I doubt you get that ridiculously wet for any man.”

  “I’ve wanted you for so long that I can’t help it. Please, Mr. Warren, use my body.”

  His smile disappeared. “I like the sound of that.”

  First he had to stroke himself back to a full erection. His large, wide hands massaged his cock in the way he liked, and while Monica enjoyed the show, she also took many notes for future reference. Tug on his sack more. Rub my thumb at the bottom of his head. Stroke quickly upward but slowly downward. A man knew best how he liked it. Monica’s job as his submissive was to learn and employ it.

  Now he crawled onto the bed, erect, his hands grabbing her as he kissed her mouth and lifted her hips into the air.

  She came close – so close! – to having his tip touch her slit. Monica sobbed in frustration, her core aching for him to reach up to it and stroke the innermost parts of her. Henry wasn’t kidding when he said he would deny her, however. He tapped his cock against her thigh, making her squirm, and making him wet all over as she released her arousal right onto his shaft. When they finally got around to it, Henry would slide in so effortlessly that Monica would cry.

  “My princess,” he muttered, kissing her once, then again. His fingers pinched both of her nipples, and his cock came dangerously close to her entrance. Fuck me fuck me fuck me! “You are quite a woman.”

  He leaned back on his arms, directing his cock at her slit and rubbing the head against her clit. Monica in turn rubbed against him, although her movements were stilted thanks to the ropes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity trapped in a prison of sexual frustration, Henry’s cock pushed into her.

  And didn’t go any farther.

  “Tell me how much you want it.” Henry was on the verge of giving up and fucking her anyway, but his restraint was unreal, and Monica knew he took pleasure in making her suffer. “Tell me how much you need my cock.”

  “”Yes, please.” Monica wrestled against her binds, futilely trying to ride him. “Please, Mr. Warren, I beg you… fuck me!”

  She was almost crying real tears by the time he untied her and let her fall to the bed. Before Monica could scramble into his lap and ride him until she came too hard and too long, Henry held her down and whipped the leash back into his hand.

  The collar closed in around her throat. It wouldn’t hurt her, but suddenly Monica was reminded of what they played at.

  “I’ve done a many things to you tonight, Monica.” He pulled on the leash and forced her head up, her legs already dangling around his hips while she continued to search for his cock. “Fucking you will mean that this is it. You’re my sub. You’re my servant. You want
to be defiled? Then I’ll use you as I use all my subs.”

  He saved one last thing for the moment he finally thrust into her.

  “This means I own you forever now.”

  Monica cried out, his cock filling her as easily as she anticipated. Good thing, for his girth would have been too much to handle otherwise, especially the first time. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me. I can’t wait. As satisfying as it was to have Henry Warren finally fill her up, nothing compared to the moment he sat up and yanked on her leash.