Compulsion: A Dark Billionaire Romance (#hot_feelings #1)

by Caroline Day

  Now he's going to deprive me of the sensation of our unity...

  ‘Please, don't leave me now,’ I blurt out.

  The air around us seems to heat up, time stops. We freeze in the same positions that we were before. Heck! Why did I say that? After all, I have no right to do it. I'm a hired call girl, and he owns my body. The one who manages me, my time, schedule, sexual excitement... My life.

  It makes me feel worse. His indifference hurts me. I need to remember why I am doing this. I think our games have gone too far. At least for me.

  ‘You are not allowed to take off the blindfold,’ he says sternly, like a parent. No problem, I am ready to follow his rules. I can't explain why, and I don't want to. I must do it for the sake of these sweet moments. That's it.

  ‘I promise I won't do it.’

  ‘Then close your eyes and relax.’

  I feel warm again. He gently turns me to my side, and the man lies down behind me, pressing me against his chest. My booty no longer feels his erection, but instead powerful heart beats out of his wide, strong chest comfort me. This is so soothing... As if that's the way it should be. That’s what we both need.

  I feel like my life would turn to dust without him...

  With these thoughts, I come to the realm of Morpheus, feeling strong hands gently squeezing me in a sort of protective ring.

  Chapter 24.

  ‘Lolita...’ says the hoarse voice, breaking the silence.

  This voice. Mesmerizing. Dearest. Desirable. I haven't heard the voice in years. He is the only person who calls me Lolita. He pronounces it gently, articulating each letter ‘L’ as softly as if he were savoring my name. The timbre, gentle notes of his voice made me smile, sometimes even melt, when the honey eyes looked at me with affection, and his warm hand gently stroked my cheek.

  We were happy once, shared weekdays and weekends, grief and joy, feelings splashed in our souls. It was our first love.

  And now, after all these years, the feelings burst out again.

  Our bodies, our souls are naked. His face is almost hidden behind his long bangs. He probably grew it in Budapest, but I don't care. I feel it with my gut that his eyes are scanning me feverishly. With a strong desire. Me too... Even after all this time, when our feelings seem to fade away, we still have the same passion for each other that we shared before.

  ‘I missed you so much...’

  Me too... I missed you too. I missed you so much that now, at this very moment, your caress, your wet kisses make me slightly mad, but...

  Something is wrong. I feel a sort of a transparent barrier between our bodies that prevent us from sinking into each other's arms. Our kisses are not so breathtaking, caress is not so exciting. They leave no burning trails, no shivering, no anticipation. There's nothing to light up the fire of passion. Only memories prevent the desire from fading away.

  ‘Donatella,’ he whispers in a completely different voice. It sounds deep and rough, painfully familiar. ‘Cum for me.’

  His fingers immediately slide to my pube. They squeeze it gently, caress the most sensitive spots. Force me to obey his order, order of a completely different person who emerged in front of me – Dark-eyed, his hair raven-colored hair, his skin smooth and dark. He is not Sean, my first love, the guy who had granted me first love pleasure for a year. He is neither my friend nor someone I’ve been attracted to.

  The man is Adrian Sullivan.

  And I am ready to give in to his request and arch my body to reach the peak of pleasure.

  ‘Holy Jesus!’ a scream comes from my lips, drowning out everything around.

  The place is too hot, too airless. I can't breathe in. I am desperately gasping for air, but it can't pass through the barrier in my throat. Oh my! What's it all about?

  I jump out of bed too abruptly, and it makes me feel dizzy. I feel it even when my eyes are closed. Hey, why can't I open my eyes? Don't tell me that I suddenly went blind over night!

  And then the memory of yesterday's encounter suddenly comes back to my mind. His passionate caress, a weird dinner that segued into a night that we spent together… My silly request, the request of a naive, silly girl… Now is not the time to think things through. The dream is still running through my mind, and I feel as if I am being scanned by the man’s dark eyes, ready to draw me into the darkness.

  Where is Sullivan? Is it he? If he is the stranger...

  ‘Don't you dare,’ a strict order reaches my ears as my fingers touch the blindfold.

  ‘I need to go to the bathroom.’

  My voice is shaking, but I don't try to hide it. I don't care.

  ‘I’ll help you get there, and you’ll remove it in the bathroom.’

  The man holds me tight until I stop feel dizzy, the he leads me with his hands on my waist to the right room, and then says:

  ‘When you're done, put on your blindfold and call me. I will lock the door, just in case.’

  ‘I want to see...’

  ‘I'll make breakfast, so hurry up.’ The door slams behind my back. I missed my chance again! I could have blown his cover and finally found out who was hiding behind the black silk. Unfortunately, I am too weak and naive.

  And I can't stop thinking of him. I see Sullivan in my mind again – his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. A voice that forces me to obey... It does sound like the stranger's voice, but there are certain differences. Heck! The strange dream, combined with the memories of last night, terrifies me. That's too much for me. I can’t enjoy the presence of the stranger without thinking of his appearance, his face that he is hiding even now.

  When I look in the mirror, frightened blue eyes stare back at me. Not as bright as I usually see in the mirror, but not quite as pale as Adam's. Something in between. However, that's not very comforting.

  I try to refresh myself under the strong jets of water, bring my body and mind back to normal, but I can't do it right away. I can't focus my attention on anything. Neither the upcoming encounter with the stranger, nor the expensive interior of the bathroom I’ve never been to before, nor the stuff like shower gel and shampoo, which I reflexively used occupies my thoughts. Surprisingly, the washing stuff is the same I use – vanilla-scented. Even the Rolex watch on the counter by the sink doesn't bother me. It might be his watch.

  ‘I’m done,’ I put on the blindfold and knock on the wooden door twice, taking a deep breath into my lungs and letting it out sharply.

  I hear the footsteps almost instantly. The door opens, letting in the cool air, and a broad hand grabs my arm and pulls me forward. I walk hesitantly, slowly, being afraid to run into an invisible obstacle. His hand is stroking my fingers soothingly, but it doesn't help much – I'm still immersed in the unpleasant aftertaste of my dream.

  ‘What would you like: scrambled eggs or pancakes?’ he asks me after helping me sit down on a chair.

  ‘A cup of tea, please.’

  ‘Is that all?’

  I'll bet he’s arching brow ironically, like Sullivan did in class, but I push the unwanted thoughts to the back of my mind.

  ‘I think so, for now.’

  I hear him filling a cup with tea, moving it toward me, then his fingers touch mine again and let me touch the cup. It’s hot, warming, but not comforting. ‘There are scrambled eggs on your right in case you get hungry.’

  ‘How should I know that you are not trying to poison me?’

  It's ironic. For the second day in a row, I have a stupid feeling of permissiveness. I seem to forget why I'm here and what he wants me to do, but for some reason I keep thinking of Andrew's warning – the one about dismemberment upon completion of the contract.

  Suddenly I heard behind me a loud laugh, and I get goosebumps all over my body. But I am not sure what caused it – fear or...

  ‘We still work together, so there’s no sense in poisoning you,’ the man gasps. This is probably the first time I've heard such a happy note in his voice. It sounds hoarse, but not stern.

  ‘I thought you would kill
me as soon as I failed satisfying your needs.’

  ‘If you don't stop talking like that, I might be able to put your proposal into practice,’ he says more seriously.

  I almost choke on my tea. Hey! You promised that I would be fine! Don't you dare to make your secret wish for my destruction come true! No! I promised...

  And I promised myself not to get attached to you...

  I can't take the emotional strain anymore. I got fed up with the uncertainty, and prohibitions. I feel trapped and vulnerable. Is it caused by the dream or the current situation? I have no idea... However, the question instantly breaks from my lips:

  ‘How did you find me? I mean, for the first time...’

  ‘I’ve already told you that I saw your profile on the site,’ he says calmly, but I can feel a slight strain in the low frequencies of his voice.

  ‘How did you manage to learn so much about me? Who are you? You are not just a stranger, aren’t you?’

  ‘We've been sleeping together for weeks. Of course, I am not just a stranger!’

  Why is he so calm? What the fuck? Why do I feel so strained?

  ‘Tell me who you are! Say it now!’ I jump up from my seat, bracing my hands against the table.

  ‘Calm down,’ steel in his voice makes me freeze. ‘Stop being hysterical and eat you breakfast.’

  ‘I can't eat!’ I just can’t.

  Good Lord, why are you doing this to me? When will it all end? When will I get rid of this stupid tension? When will I breathe a sigh of relief? Breathe freely, without any obstacles?

  When?

  I don't know when the blindfold gets wet, when my chest gets cramped, and someone else's warmth embraces me. And this embrace is not constrained, but comforting, withdrawing my pain. The sensation is so strong that I feel like snuggling against the live battery that is stroking my head with a bear-sized hand.

  We keep silent. We don't say a word to each other. We don’t need to – I calm down in his strong arms. It doesn't take long. His hugs have got a strange effect on me. It’s so soothing. I do not even try to realize what's going on. His monster's paws can comfort, and he can easily turn from a tyrant into a nice, loving man. I feel like he is my loved one. There was only one guy who made me feel that way –

  Sean.

  ‘I’ve been making inquiries about you. I was wondering who I was dealing with,’ he says after a long pause.

  ‘Does it mean you know my real name?’

  Once again, the silence covers us with a veil of tranquility, I would say, but then certain strains between us emerge again, like the bowstring is pulled back before the final shot.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What about my personal life? Do you know that... ?’

  ‘Well, I know that you have had only one sexual partner. I know that you are persistent and will do anything for your loved one. I know that you start blushing when people look at you. I know everything.’

  ‘Then you probably know that I couldn't take my eyes off a new professor at his first lecture!’

  ‘Yes,’ he says after a short pause.

  Damn it! So he is Adrian Sullivan, isn't he? Or just a man who has spied on me, and learned everything about my life? My habits, likes and dislikes, friends, problems I've been trying to solve for months... What else does he know about me? Taste preferences? My favorite movies? Music? Or maybe he is interested only in sexual preferences...

  Heck!

  Even now, when I am still in his arms, soaking up the woody scent with hints of mint, I can't let him go. I just can't do it. And it scares me. It enrages me, and doesn't make me happy at all.

  Yes, I am angry! I am angry at myself, my reaction, the man standing close to me. I want to see his face. I want it! No matter how much I deny it, no matter how much I try to justify it, no matter how tired I am...

  ‘You know me too well, as if we were close friends.’

  ‘Don’t you think we are close enough?’

  ‘I don't think so. You are hiding your face, I know nothing about you.’

  I can't see anything but the rest of my senses are sharpened. My hearing picks up the scrape of a chair moving against the tile, and I feel the warmth on my hands and face. He’s stroking me. Gently. He is pampering me as if I were a child who had just been deprived of a coveted Christmas present. Then he pulls me forward, and in a few moments I find myself in his arms again.

  I nuzzle into his strong neck; I feel the throbbing vein under my lips. I suddenly realize that I've never touched it before. Not just his neck, but the naked body of the man, too. I have never caressed him, nor have I groped his taut muscles. Sex we had in the sauna doesn't count, it's different. I could only imagine what he really looked like.

  And now I feel like I've been given permission to put my arms around this well-built man, wrap my fingers in his thick hair, and inhale the scent that has fascinated me since I met him. The enslavement was gradual. With each encounter, I became more attached to him.

  ‘I can tell you about myself,’ he blurts out suddenly, making my heart race.

  ‘Really? Do you mean I can ask you any question?’

  ‘Yes,’ he breathes into my ear.

  ‘What’s you name?’ I blurt out the first thing that comes to my mind. The first and the worst...

  ‘Well, I am not going to reveal you everything.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don't want to ruin our relationship.’

  What! Do we have any? I thought it was just an illusion! Isn’t it just veneer? Dreams that will never come true?

  It hurts. After all, he knows everything about me, and I don't know even his name, not to mention his appearance and qualities. Why should I, if in a few days our agreement will be terminated and we will go our separate ways? But this is the way it should be. I want to get to know this man better. I want us to become closer. I don't care that I will fall into the abyss as soon as I take off my blindfold, I don't care that his masculine essence penetrates deep into my soul.

  ‘You kept the pancakes, didn't you? Does it mean you prefer pancakes?’ I finally break the silence.

  ‘Well...’

  ‘You promised me to be honest.’

  His fingers stroke the back of my hand, and he grunts a brief chuckle. I'm listening ardently to every sound. I expect him to laugh again, but instead he says:

  ‘Yes, I do. What about you?’

  ‘I thought you knew my tastes,’ I say hesitantly. I prefer pancakes to eggs. Apparently, he doesn't know everything about me.

  ‘The next question.’

  ‘Are you so rich that you could afford to throw thirty thousand away?’

  ‘You needed the money, so I don't think I threw it away, do you?’

  The stern tone of his voice makes me feel like I'm overstepping the mark. I’m entering the area where I don’t belong. Where I was not expected, where I wasn't supposed to be... But that's not what I meant. Not at all.

  ‘I wanted to ask you what you do for a living.’

  ‘I am a businessman.’

  ‘Do you own a commercial empire? A big company? Are you member of the royal family?’ there is a curious anxiety in my tone. I hope that he will give some clue, some hint on who is hiding behind the black silk, but...

  He gives a chuckle in response to my question. His breath touches my naked neck, and once again, I feel vulnerable in front of the man. But there is not mockery but rather tenderness in his mirth. There is no way to know for sure when you can't see facial expression of the person.

  ‘No, I am not a member of the Royal family, but I am rich enough to afford many things.’

  ‘Nice watch, by the way.’

  Now I give a slight smile, and he bursts out laughing again. A little, beautiful laughter. Have you ever heard a beautiful laughter? Did you know it exists? As for me, I’ve never thought about it.

  ‘Any other questions?’

  Sure! Should I ask? He said he was eager to tell me anything about himself. I should take this oppo
rtunity before he changed his mind. Again.

  ‘What do you like in women?’ I ask him in a rapid-fire manner. I wonder if he understood what I said at all.

  ‘Really? Let me think.’

  I can imagine the man scratching his chin covered with bristles, looking thoughtfully at the glass table, his eyes narrowed. Just like Sullivan used to do in the class, when he got distracted and then remembered where he'd left off.

  ‘Honesty. Devotion. Warm-heartedness,’ he says clearly.

  ‘What?’ I am perplexed by what he says. It's weird to hear it from the man who demands me to cum when he wants to.

  ‘You wanted to know what I like about women.’

  ‘And... When it comes to looks?’

  ‘If we are talking about a serious relationship, looks is secondary.’

  ‘What about me?’ I try to speak confidently, hiding my excitement and how critical the question is for me, but my voice still trembles. A bit. And my hands are shaking, as if I'm being judged. Is it life sentencing? ‘Do you like me?’

  ‘You suit me as a mistress.’

  ‘Do you like me as a person?’

  He falls silent, he never answers my question. I wait for him to say something, hoping in my heart that all is not lost. Perhaps our conversation will put things in perspective, and I will finally understand why I can't get him out of my head. Why I remember him every damn minute, why I'm looking forward to seeing him, even though I would never admit it. He might have feelings for me! Is that love?

  The stranger sighs heavily. His firm hand at my waist presses me a little tighter, then pushes me away from his lap. The man rattles some papers as if searching for something in a cluttered bag. Is it the contract? Is he going to give it away right now? Please, no! I'm not ready to part with him so soon. I need time to get used to the idea. To the fact that I will never feel him by my side again...

  I feel deep gusts of mint-scented air near me. And then a light touch to my hand makes me shiver. However, he abruptly terminates my agitation.

  ‘Don't forget about the essence of our relationship, Donatella. Today I did you favor, but I am not going to do it again,’ he says sternly, and moves away from me, leaving me alone in the chill. ‘You may remove the blindfold in five minutes.’