Billionaire’s Captive: A Beauty and the Rose Box Set

by Black, Stasia

  I shake my head and start to chide her for negative thinking, but only her gentle snores meet me. She’s fallen asleep.

  Her hand is cold in mine and when I feel along her arm and her feet, her entire body is cold. So I climb in bed beside her and nestle in behind her, chafing her arms lightly to warm her up.

  “Everything’s going to be okay, Mama,” I whisper, terrified I don’t believe my own words. “Everything’s going to be okay. Daddy’s going to fix you, just you wait and see.”

  But the next morning, when I wake up, it’s to the loud buzzing of machines alerting of a problem.

  And my mother is cold in my arms.

  Dead and gone from this world.

  Sixteen

  Present Day

  Daphne

  A huge dark shape moves over me in the darkness, then settles behind me, grabbing both of my wrists in one strong hand and holding them at the small of my back.

  “Surrender,” he murmurs, his cock gliding along my fingers and then settling in the cleft between my legs. He is a wall of heat behind me as his body weight settles into the mattress. His cock a hard, unyielding promise. My hands fist but my bottom rises to meet his thrusts. “Let go. Let yourself be mine. Every part of you. Don’t hold a single part back.”

  “Logan,” I whisper. I flex my fingers and he releases my wrists, but only so he can guide them over my head where he takes hold of them again.

  But not before a dark glint catches my eye. The ring is a weight heavy on my finger. Not a diamond, though. A signet ring crowned with a gold beast’s head. The mark of his claim. My heart soars at the sight.

  Logan threads his thick fingers with my small ones, covering my hand with his. In the dark, my lips curve.

  “I was always yours.”

  My eyes snap open and the sun hits me in the face. My pussy’s tight and aching, my hips rocking towards the ceiling. I breathe out in frustration, so turned on from my dream it must have freaking woke me up.

  And no wonder. I look down at myself and my breath hitches again. I’m still covered in Logan’s cum. Was it only last night? He barged in here, made me beg and then…

  I turn and bury my face in the pillow, wishing I could have stayed in the dream a little longer. Maybe in that dream world he would have eventually let me touch him. Maybe even wrapped his arms around me like he did that one night…after the funeral, when I felt more alone than I ever had before in my life.

  But then Logan came.

  I blink and lay on my side, staring at the sun pouring in the eastern window. For once in my life, there’s no rush to be anywhere. No lab tests, no meetings, no board breathing down my neck.

  No inconvenient fiancés.

  Still not getting out of bed, I reach over and pull out the bedside table drawer. The diamond flashes at me from the engagement ring. I pulled it off and tossed it in there as soon as I could, along with my phone.

  Tethers to my old life, which feels increasingly far away. If only I could walk away forever, wave a wand and have all my responsibilities disappear.

  The old Daphne would never feel this way. But…is that necessarily a bad thing?

  I shove the drawer shut. I was going to call my dad, check in, but I’m not in the mood. The last few times I’ve called, he’s been asleep or busy with PT anyway. I can call him later and it’ll be fine. And I can pretend this is my life—a simple existence as Logan’s plaything—a little longer.

  If I stop and think too hard, I know nothing about this is simple. And yet it is at the same time.

  I close my eyes and will the dream to continue.

  His arms around me.

  But it’s not a dream that plays behind my eyelids. It’s the memories again. Memories I can’t escape, that somehow feel so fresh it’s as if it all happened last night.

  His arms around me that terrible night, comforting me as I wept for my mother. How safe and cherished he made me feel. I think… I think that was the last time I ever felt that until… until now. Until he came back into my life.

  First with my mom’s death and then his disappearance out of nowhere. Everything just sort of…stopped.

  I just…stopped.

  Emotionally and as a person, all the gears inside me slowed down and came to a grinding halt.

  I was hurting so bad and there was no one there to help me understand or figure out how to get through it. Certainly not my father.

  I frown and finally roll out of bed, heading for the shower.

  The shower spray is cleansing hot. I wash, rinse, and rewash my hair several times, and survey the marks on my body. Mostly faded. Will Logan give me more today? Please, Master, will you whip me again? My laugh echoes around the luxuriously tiled room.

  Dear gods, what is my life?

  Because the thing is, while I might have been frozen in amber at 19, now at 27, I am waking the fuck back up. In a completely full-grown woman’s body.

  I get out and blow-dry my hair, taking the time to style it. The woman in the mirror is a sloe-eyed seductress. I pucker my lips and she blows me a kiss.

  Have I ever done this? Enjoyed a lazy morning, primping in the bathroom? Surely there was a moment in my teens when I posed for the mirror, figuring out how to get my hair to fall in sultry waves just so.

  I wrack my brain but there’s no memory of happy time to myself. My teen years were dedicated to school, research, taking care of my mom. No fun with girlfriends. Not even a sleepover.

  Not that I regret it. But, other than being the youngest recipient of the Avicennius grant, and a straight A student, and a dutiful daughter, who was I then?

  Who am I now?

  I run the brush through my hair. The woman in the mirror looks more serious now, but still calm. Of course she is. She doesn’t have a schedule. She has nothing to do but look beautiful and follow Master’s commands.

  I envy her.

  It could be like this forever.

  I grip the edge of the countertop. No, I can’t think that. Is that what I want? To be Logan’s slave? His plaything?

  But I’m more than a plaything. Isn’t that what I just realized? It’s not a one-way street.

  I look myself in the mirror and I’m finally honest with myself: I’m not here for the patents. Whatever Logan’s motives, I’m here because I got a taste of being awake and alive, and I can’t go back.

  Was your old life so much better anyway? The beauty in the mirror looks me straight in the eye. Well? Was it?

  A company on the brink of collapse. A father who loves me only as an extension of his own scientific accomplishments. A fiancé I never wanted.

  Still, it’s not like I can just give all that up, can I? Walk away from my responsibilities?

  Were they your responsibilities in the first place? Was it your life? Your choice?

  Yes. Everything I worked for, everything I was—I wanted. My heart starts beating quicker at all the rebellious thoughts. Right?

  A sharp knock has me scurrying out of the bathroom. By the time I open the door, Logan is gone. Either that, or little elves delivered a cart with a silver, covered breakfast tray to my door. I roll the cart inside, my stomach clenching at the smell of bacon.

  When I remove the cover, a note falls to the floor. My daily instructions.

  After you eat, open the box by your bed.

  I’m too curious to wait. Munching on a strip of bacon, I head to the bedside table where, sure enough, Logan left a plain black box, a bit bigger than the kind fancy chocolates might come in. It could hold anything.

  As soon as I open it and see the gleaming metal, I know. My stomach swoops and my heart starts to beat faster.

  Each butt plug is numbered strangely. 11:00-12:00. 13:00-14:00. 15:00-16:00. And the largest: 19:00. Times of the day, I realize. I’m to wear each one for an hour, graduating in size. This is my only task for the day.

  Under the box is a final note. Meet me in the dungeon at 19:30.

  The dungeon. Unf. My pussy clenches. I pick up the small
est butt plug and grimace at my distorted reflection.

  But it’s immediately followed by a thrill of excitement.

  Tonight, Logan claims all of me.

  * * *

  He left a final note with further instructions with my lunch. I could walk down the stairs to the dungeon. But as soon as I passed through the heavy doors, I had to crawl.

  But he laid out a carpet. Red. Strewn with rose petals.

  A second before I cross the threshold, I drop to my knees. I can’t describe what it feels like, the dirty thrill I feel at lowering myself to the ground. It’s dirty and sexy and when I crawl seductively, I can feel his eyes on me almost like a physical thing. Can he see the large plug in my ass from this angle? Gods, I never knew there could be such power in being on my knees.

  I crawl until Logan’s feet come into view. They’re bare, roped with veins and dusted with dark hair. He’s seated on a huge throne-like chair, the grandly carved wood dark with age. A king in his castle.

  I settle myself on my knees before him and wait. Seconds tick by like years.

  “Did you follow my instructions like a good girl?” His voice is a throaty growl.

  I dare then to look up. “Yes, Master.”

  His eyes gleam. “Up.” He indicates the table in the center of the room. With a shaky sigh, I rise and climb onto the leather-padded top. Sitting like a patient waiting for a doctor, bare ass naked.

  Except this patient has a huge butt plug stretching her sphincter. I subtly lean on one hip.

  “On your back,” Logan orders, and leaves his throne to collect items from a cabinet.

  Deep breath. I lay back and try to relax. As if this is a pap smear or some sort of similar torture.

  Sessions with Logan have a big advantage over a regular doctor’s visit, though. There’s more pain, but way more chance of orgasms.

  I school my face into a blank expression as Logan returns, rolling some sort of cart with him. His shadow falls over me and my leg twitches. I shift on the table, trying to get comfortable with the biggest butt plug I’ve ever worn stuffed inside me. I might not know what’s coming, but that’s always been part of the thrill, hasn’t it?

  “Do I need to tie you down?” Logan rasps when I shift again.

  “No. I trust you.” I give him a nervous smile.

  Nothing. He’s still wearing the mask. A black one tonight. With his silk shirt and slacks, he’s a thin mustache away from sexy Zorro.

  And now I want to smile. I must be nervous. That’s why I’m making bad jokes, even if just in my head.

  But the thing is, I meant what I just said. I do trust him, in spite of everything that’s happened. He’s never betrayed or hurt me. So I take a deep breath and still all my twitching limbs.

  “Since you wore the nipple clamps so well.” He holds up a tiny jeweled ornament. Similar emeralds, but no clamp attached. It takes me a second to recognize what it is and when I do, the breath leaves my body.

  Oh shit, he’s going to pierce me.

  This is permanent.

  “No comment?” he smirks at me. I shake my head slowly.

  If this is what he wants, then I want it too.

  Is it really that easy? Has it really been that easy all along? All I needed to come alive again this whole time, to find my freedom— the solution was never to clench tighter and try to control things like my life was a series of scientific labs steps to follow.

  What I didn’t know, what I could never know without Logan coming back into my life and showing me, was that the truest freedom can only be found in ultimate surrender.

  I don’t tell him this. Instead, I let my body sink into the table as he briskly brushes antiseptic over my nipples. The sharp, clean scent stings my nose. The act is supremely erotic. The silence, the slight tickle of the brush. The care Master takes with his slave. My breathing deepens, my body slipping into that submissive state, readying me for what’s to come.

  I feel like a new creature. Like my life is just beginning.

  “You told me you liked pain. That it made you feel alive.” Logan’s voice is level, but his fingers tremble slightly as they pass over my breast. Even without me saying it, he knows something of what I’m feeling. That’s how attuned we are.

  “It does. I do.” I raise my chin. “Give me the rose with the thorns.”

  He turns back to bend over the tray, but his cheek curves. “Leave it to you to see the beauty in pain.”

  “The way I see it, life is equal parts hurt and love. If I numb myself to one, then I miss out on the other.”

  “You speak as though you’ve had a lifetime of suffering.”

  Silently I tally up everything I’ve been through. My mother’s death, my father’s grief. The illnesses that have shaped my entire life. My own striving for love. “I’m not saying I’m the only one who’s suffered. Or that I’ve suffered more than most.”

  Logan remains silent and I keep babbling. I feel like I’m having such huge revelations and I want to share some of it with him.

  “Socrates says if all the world’s suffering was laid in a pile, most people would choose their own portion. I wouldn’t change my life for anyone else’s. But I’ve been numb for too long.” I lock eyes with him. “I’m ready to be awake to my life. Even for the parts of it that hurt.”

  He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stands there, ice blue gaze searing straight into my soul.

  Then suddenly he starts stripping out of his shirt and my mouth goes dry. Crossing the room to a sink, he washes his hands, then returns to show me the needle.

  I can’t stop my smile. “I’m not afraid of needles.” I’ve encountered enough in my lifetime.

  He shakes his head and starts to sterilize the needle. “This will earn you twenty patents,” he says gruffly, still turned away from me. The muscles of his back are as chiseled as the stone walls of his castle.

  When he comes to my side, I grab his hand. “No.” He is missing the whole point.

  His nostrils flare and his gaze is a blade. “This is happening, Daphne.”

  I drop my hand and soften my voice. “That’s not what I meant. You don’t have to give up patents for this. I want it.” I want you. But I’m not quite brave enough to say that yet.

  For a moment he’s frozen except for a slight widening of his eyes. The blue of his iris is a thin circle of ice. Then, in a growl, “What game are you playing?”

  “No games. Not any more. I want to do this.”

  “No patents?” The furrow between his brows is etched deep, he’s so confused.

  “No.”

  He stares at me a long moment. See me, I plead silently. See us. What we could become.

  “This doesn’t change anything,” he says, and pinches my nipple in preparation. I watch him, not the needle, as if I could communicate everything I’m thinking telepathically.

  I want this. I’ll do anything...for you.

  Because it’s true, I want to be awake. I don’t want to be numb or frozen anymore. But there’s more to it than that. I wouldn’t have woken up to just anyone. I want the man in front of me. My first crush. My first love. I want it all, with him.

  I’m a silent observer as Logan bends over me. I see him and the room as if I’m a ghost by the ceiling. A young woman prone on the table, her hair spread in a dark halo around her head.

  The pinch, when it comes, feels far away. Logan adorns my left nipple with a tiny barbell with green jewels. His eyebrows are furrowed again, but this time in concentration. Then he sterilizes everything and repeats the process with my right.

  He lets the needle clatter onto the tray. “It’s done.”

  I come back into my body, sucking air into my lungs. My nipples throb. But so does my clit. My full ass only emphasizes how my pussy is empty.

  Logan examines me thoughtfully. His fingers come to my cunt and slide inside. “Wet,” he says hoarsely.

  I stare at him as if I can see past the mask. “Always.” For you.

&nb
sp; He presses a button and the table starts to lower. I jolt. Now what?

  He kneels and tugs my legs down, dragging me to the edge of the table until I’m straddling his face.

  I rise up on my elbows. “Wha—?”

  “You’ve earned this.” His voice is muffled between my thighs.

  The mask is cool when it touches my skin. Soon it’s slick with my juices. I grab his hair and cant my hips, rocking into his mouth.

  “That’s it, baby. Grind it out.” He angles his head and probes my pussy with his tongue. A minute more and it’s too much. My toes scrunch and I cum, screaming.

  He rises over me, his chin and mask shiny. Grabbing his shirt, he mops his face.

  I lie back, insides still quivering. The pain in my nipples is a million miles away. “How many?” I gasp.

  He raises a brow.

  “How many patents did I give up in exchange for that orgasm?”

  He licks his lips, which are glossy with my essence. “None.”

  My heart stops for a second. I smile, and he returns it. Just a small quirk beside his lips, a tiny parentheses, but it’s enough.

  This doesn’t change anything, he’d told me. In that moment, we both know he’s wrong.

  Seventeen

  Present Day

  Logan

  She lies on the table, her body a delectable offering to a cruel god. Green jewels sparkle at the reddened tips of her breasts, the tan cleft of her ass.

  She spent the day training her ass for me, stretching it until she crawled in here with a plug so large it pushes her ass cheeks apart. It’s got to be uncomfortable, but when I twist and tug on it, her pussy weeps. Her juices drench my hand. Needy little thing.

  Needy enough not to want patents in exchange for what we just did. Is this just some new game? Another way for her to manipulate me?

  I frown briefly even as her eyes smile sleepily at me. I drop my hand. “You should rest.”