At His Command: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 3 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) by Delilah Fawkes
Authors: Delilah Fawkes
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At His
Command (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 3)
By
Delilah Fawkes
Have you
ever had one of those moments where something so strange and fantastic is
happening to you, that you wonder if you’re dreaming? One of those moments that
is so surreal, so unlike anything in your ordinary life that you’re positive
it’s a fantasy? But then you pinch yourself. The pain grounds you, and you
realize it’s really happening.
Your life
is changing forever.
This is
exactly how I felt as Mr. Drake led me into his secret dungeon and showed me
what he had in store for me.
For a few
minutes, he let me wander through the room, touching and exploring, asking
myself which things I’d like to try. He watched from the doorway, wearing only
his silk boxers, a knowing grin on his handsome face.
I picked
up a pair of wrist restraints, feeling the suppleness of the leather, longing
for the feel of being helpless before this powerful man. I ran my hands over
the tails of a flog, then picked up a crop, wondering what it would feel like,
laying into me when I was bent over, crying out beneath Mr. Drake’s skillful blows.
The cross
intrigued me the most, and I ran my hands over its dark surface before turning
back to the man watching me closely.
“What is
this thing?”
“It’s
called a St. Andrews cross. If we decided to play with it, I’d lash your wrists
to the top two restraints, and your ankles to the bottom two, leaving you
spread wide and vulnerable, unable to resist whatever I wanted to do to you.”
I
shivered, imagining the kind of things he might do when I was bound and naked
before him, stretched and ready.
He stepped
closer, looming over me.
“Would you
like that, Isabeau? Would you like to be helpless to resist while I bring you
orgasm after orgasm, denying you what you really want until you are begging to
be filled by my cock?”
My eyes
almost rolled back in my head from his words alone.
“Yes…
Sir.”
I wanted
it more than anything.
“Then get
some rest. Tomorrow, you’re mine to do with as I please.”
I groaned
at his words. “But what about work?”
“Isabeau,”
he said, grinning down at me. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
***
When I
woke, I noticed that my clothes were folded on the trunk on the foot of my
bed , with a note sitting on top in an
elegant hand.
I have business in the city to attend
to, but will return as soon as I can.
Please make yourself
comfortable. My house is your house while you stay.
I can’t wait to see you, little
temp.
I read the
note over and over again before holding it to my lips. I couldn’t believe this
was happening. The dream was real, and suddenly, I felt like a very naughty
version of Cinderella, living with my kinky Prince Charming.
What’s the first thing a princess to do? I wondered, then grinned. She’d explore the castle, of course!
I hadn’t
gotten a good look at my surroundings the night before, but now as I pushed the
door open and padded down the hall in my bare feet, I couldn’t help but be
overwhelmed. Mr. Drake’s home was lushly furnished with thick, soft carpets
cushioning my steps, and gorgeous artwork displayed in every room. I examined
one painting to see if it was a print, but brushstrokes were visible in the
lamplight, as clear as day. An original. How much money did he spend on
something as simple as decorating?
My one
Ikea print hanging over my bed seemed down right sad in comparison. Considering
that was my idea of a splurge item when I moved in said a lot about the
difference between our two worlds. Suddenly, I felt very small, and very out of
place.
The house
was enormous, and it took me awhile to find my way down a back stairwell and
into the kitchen. A stocky blonde woman looked up from behind the granite
counter top and raised a sharp eyebrow at me.
“Miss,
those are the stairs the staff uses. Guests use the grand staircase.”
I blushed,
my face feeling hotter than the
Command (The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 3)
By
Delilah Fawkes
Have you
ever had one of those moments where something so strange and fantastic is
happening to you, that you wonder if you’re dreaming? One of those moments that
is so surreal, so unlike anything in your ordinary life that you’re positive
it’s a fantasy? But then you pinch yourself. The pain grounds you, and you
realize it’s really happening.
Your life
is changing forever.
This is
exactly how I felt as Mr. Drake led me into his secret dungeon and showed me
what he had in store for me.
For a few
minutes, he let me wander through the room, touching and exploring, asking
myself which things I’d like to try. He watched from the doorway, wearing only
his silk boxers, a knowing grin on his handsome face.
I picked
up a pair of wrist restraints, feeling the suppleness of the leather, longing
for the feel of being helpless before this powerful man. I ran my hands over
the tails of a flog, then picked up a crop, wondering what it would feel like,
laying into me when I was bent over, crying out beneath Mr. Drake’s skillful blows.
The cross
intrigued me the most, and I ran my hands over its dark surface before turning
back to the man watching me closely.
“What is
this thing?”
“It’s
called a St. Andrews cross. If we decided to play with it, I’d lash your wrists
to the top two restraints, and your ankles to the bottom two, leaving you
spread wide and vulnerable, unable to resist whatever I wanted to do to you.”
I
shivered, imagining the kind of things he might do when I was bound and naked
before him, stretched and ready.
He stepped
closer, looming over me.
“Would you
like that, Isabeau? Would you like to be helpless to resist while I bring you
orgasm after orgasm, denying you what you really want until you are begging to
be filled by my cock?”
My eyes
almost rolled back in my head from his words alone.
“Yes…
Sir.”
I wanted
it more than anything.
“Then get
some rest. Tomorrow, you’re mine to do with as I please.”
I groaned
at his words. “But what about work?”
“Isabeau,”
he said, grinning down at me. “Tomorrow’s Saturday.”
***
When I
woke, I noticed that my clothes were folded on the trunk on the foot of my
bed , with a note sitting on top in an
elegant hand.
I have business in the city to attend
to, but will return as soon as I can.
Please make yourself
comfortable. My house is your house while you stay.
I can’t wait to see you, little
temp.
I read the
note over and over again before holding it to my lips. I couldn’t believe this
was happening. The dream was real, and suddenly, I felt like a very naughty
version of Cinderella, living with my kinky Prince Charming.
What’s the first thing a princess to do? I wondered, then grinned. She’d explore the castle, of course!
I hadn’t
gotten a good look at my surroundings the night before, but now as I pushed the
door open and padded down the hall in my bare feet, I couldn’t help but be
overwhelmed. Mr. Drake’s home was lushly furnished with thick, soft carpets
cushioning my steps, and gorgeous artwork displayed in every room. I examined
one painting to see if it was a print, but brushstrokes were visible in the
lamplight, as clear as day. An original. How much money did he spend on
something as simple as decorating?
My one
Ikea print hanging over my bed seemed down right sad in comparison. Considering
that was my idea of a splurge item when I moved in said a lot about the
difference between our two worlds. Suddenly, I felt very small, and very out of
place.
The house
was enormous, and it took me awhile to find my way down a back stairwell and
into the kitchen. A stocky blonde woman looked up from behind the granite
counter top and raised a sharp eyebrow at me.
“Miss,
those are the stairs the staff uses. Guests use the grand staircase.”
I blushed,
my face feeling hotter than the
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