At His Warning: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 8 (2 page)

When
we came together, he kissed me, stealing my cries away, making me feel like we
were part of one whole, one body, each part moving in perfect unison.

We
lay together intertwined, tasting one another, touching and whispering, until
the shriek of the hotel alarm clock brought our intimate moment to a halt.

It
was the last day with the investors, after all.

We
had work to do.

***

The
morning activities were almost underway, but instead of facilitating, Mr. Drake
wanted me to go back to the office ahead of him and gather the company’s financial
records from the last ten years. In secret and alone.

He
gave me the master key to the CFO’s office and sent me on my way with a look
that sent chills down my spine.

“These
losses are not a coincidence, Isa. We have to find out what Lex did before he
ruins this company. People are depending on us.”

I
nodded, my fists clenching by my sides. Could I do this? Sneak into the offices
and get the documents while he distracted the investors?

As
if he could read my mind, he said, “You’re the only one who can help me. Now
go.”

So,
I went.

The
CFO’s office wasn’t as large as Mr. Drake’s, but it felt vast as I fumbled for
the light switch, the rows of filing cabinets rearing up as looming shadows
against the curtain-covered windows. I found what we needed and began moving
stacks of files onto my boss’ desk, almost jumping out of my skin when the air
conditioning switched on with a rumble. The building was, thankfully, empty,
and I scurried from office to office without seeing another soul.

I
made a pot of coffee and made a nest of files on the floor of my boss’ office
before getting down to business. At 5 p.m. I heard footsteps outside and
tensed, my hands still full of photocopied receipts. The cadence of the steps
became clear, and I relaxed. It was him. My Mr. Drake coming to help me at
last.

Keys
jingled and the heavy door swung inward.

“Isabeau.”

My
breath quickened at his outline in the doorway. He was wearing jeans and a
soft, grey sweater that stretched neatly over his broad shoulders. It was
something of a shock seeing him in anything but a suit or tuxedo, but my pulse
pounding in my veins confirmed my thoughts. He was gorgeous, an air of elegance
around him even in this relaxed state.

“Do
you remember how I want you when we’re in this office together?”

“Yes,
Sir,” I breathed.

I
sat up on my knees and pushed them apart, putting my hands behind me. The slits
of my skirt strained against my thighs as I assumed the position, and I cast my
eyes down, even though all I wanted to do was meet that piercing green gaze.

“That’s
my good girl.”

His
voice was low, lustful, as he moved toward me. His shadow covered me, and I
sighed, calmed by his presence, despite the coffee coursing through my veins.

“Have
you found anything in the files?”

“Not
yet, Sir,” I said. “I’ve been going through the transaction records from the
last quarter, but nothing’s jumped out at me so far. The earnings figures are
on your desk.”

“Very
good, little slave.”

He
wound his fingers in my hair and pulled, forcing me to look up into his eyes.
“You’ve made your master very happy, Isa. Thank you for everything.”

I
blushed under his scrutiny, not expecting the compliment when we were
behaving... well, like
this
. The lines between work and play were blurring, and what’s
more was, I didn’t mind.

He
cupped my face with his other hand, caressing my cheek. His fingers traveled
down my neck, making me tremble, before tracing the line of my collarbone. I
didn’t take my eyes off him while he held me like this, didn’t want to even if
he’d let me. His hand dipped lower, popping the top buttons of my blouse until
I knew the swells of my breasts were exposed. He sucked in a sharp breath.

“Fuck.”
He broke eye contact, and I knew he was enjoying the view. “Stay right here,
little slave. Close your eyes. Understood?”

“Yes,
Sir.”

I
did as he asked, sitting back on my heels as I waited to see what he would do.
There was the sound of the storage room door opening in the back of his office,
then a scraping, like he was dragging something heavy over the carpet. There was
a loud
thump
, then the sound of his footfalls returning.

“Open
your eyes, Isa.”

I
opened them and was immediately more confused than enlightened. What was I
looking at?

Sitting
before me was a strange, and more than a little scary-looking, device, consisting
of a black metal frame, wrist and ankle cuffs, and an ominous looking
dildo-on-a-piston.
Oh, dear...

Despite
my hesitation, the thought of what Mr. Drake may want to do to me sent shivers
of anticipation straight to my core.

“I
want you.” Mr. Drake’s voice was hoarse with longing. “God, I always want
you... But we need to figure out what’s going on.” He reached down and caressed
my breasts through the silk, making me moan. “Lucky for us both, I do my best
thinking when I’m sexually frustrated out of my mind.”

He
bent down and removed my diamond choker, replacing it with my black leather
one. I smiled as he buckled it into place. The thought that he carried it with
him was interesting, to say the least.

“Strip
down, little slave, and get on all fours above the frame here.”

I
stood, slowly unbuttoning my blouse and unhooking my bra, loving the way he
eyed me, his gaze all hunger and need. When my skirt and panties were folded on
the floor next to me, I lowered myself down next to the cuffs, waiting for my
next command. Mr. Drake knelt next to me and fastened me in, making sure I was
comfortable, but secured in place. He lifted a bar off the frame, bringing it
up under my chin. It had a padded rest in the shape of a U that he asked me to
place my neck onto, and fastened the d-ring on my collar to the stockade.

I
was completely trapped.

He
moved behind me, and I tensed, a sudden jolt of fear stabbing through me as he
adjusted the machine’s piston arm. What would it feel like? Would it be too
hard? Too fast?

I
whimpered as I felt the black rubber of the dildo parting my folds.

“You’re
already so wet, little slave. So ready. I thought I’d have to lubricate it...”

I
felt his hands slide over my cheeks, kneading the flesh. I groaned at his
touch, wishing I could reach back and caress him, too. His lips brushed over
me, and I squirmed against the restraints.

“You’re
absolutely amazing,” he whispered.

His
tongue darted out, tasting me.

“Now,
I’m going to turn this on, and you’re going to receive the fucking of a
lifetime while I read these reports. When I’ve found what I’m looking for, I’ll
let you up again, and then take you myself. Understood?”

He
stood and walked into view, sitting down at his desk. I stared, open mouthed
before remembering myself.

“Y-yes,
Sir...”

How
long was he going to do this to me? What if I couldn’t take it? What if he
never found what he was looking for?

He
hit a remote on his desk, his eyes flashing as he watched me. Before I could
move, or even think, the dildo eased its way into me, stretching me around its
girth. I gasped as it worked its way into my channel, my body squeezing around
it as it filled me. Mr. Drake smiled.

“Good
girl. Take it all in.”

He
pressed the buttons again, like he was turning up the volume on his television,
and the machine began to whir, the piston warming up as it pulled out of me
slowly, then pushed back in,
  
making me
bite my lip.

It
was more than a little odd being shackled to this sex machine while Mr. Drake
shuffled documents at his desk, stopping to stare at me once in a while and tap
the controls, making the machine speed up, but if I was honest with myself,
being helpless like this, letting him use me in such a domineering fashion
right here in the office, was one of the most arousing things I’d ever
experienced. It reminded me of being under his desk while he took that meeting,
suckling him with my hands tied behind my back. I was his to control, and this
little edge of danger, the thrilling fear of being caught, made it all the
naughtier.

Mr.
Drake came over, and knelt before me again, handing me a stack of receipts.

He
grinned evilly as the machine pistoned into me back and forth again and again,
my breasts swaying as I succumbed to its rhythm.

“You
look beautiful like this, little slave. Your face so flushed and bright. Your
body so pliant and eager. I want you to cum for me soon.”

The
bulge in his pants was just at mouth level. I longed for him to feed his length
to me, to taste him as I knelt there, helpless and bound. Instead he moved back,
leaving me with a file in each hand.

“Look
these over, will you?”

I
whined as the machine picked up speed, fucking me in a way that made my fists
clench and my back arch beneath the onslaught. Mr. Drake laughed, the sound
making the hairs on my neck stand on end. He was loving this, and the thought
made me cry out, my body responding to his presence, his control... His desire.

I
shuddered as I came, my lips forming his name as delicious heat spread through
me, lighting up every nerve ending like stars in the night sky.

He
was back at his desk when I came back down, my body overly sensitive and aching
for more. His eyes burned into me, and I knew what he wanted. I awkwardly
flipped open the files with each hand, cuffed as I was, and tried to focus on
the papers within. My vision narrowed as the machine sped up again, pulsing as
it drilled into me.

“Please!”

Mr.
Drake just watched me, a wolfish grin plastered to his face.

“Get
to work, Isabeau.”

I
looked down, moaning as the dildo passed in and out, rubbing my tender folds,
the friction inside of me making my pleasure rise once again. I focused as best
I could on the first receipt, my eyes blurring with tears. I didn’t know if I
could cum again, I was so sensitive, but I knew I was helpless to resist.

My
eyes darted back to the stack of papers.

Cocktails at Morton’s Pier Yacht Club.
I twitched my
fingers, shuffling the page to the side.

Golf at the Hayworth Greens
. I moved it to look at the
next.

Four cases of toner from Office
Warehouse.
Next
receipt.

Coffee with clients.
Next receipt.

Reams of paper.
Next....

OH GOD...

All
the words danced and swirled as my body contracted, the piston whirring in and
out, faster and faster, electricity coursing through me until I couldn’t stand
it.

“Fuuuuck!”

I
screamed as I came a second time, my thighs shaking as I convulsed again and
again. Mr. Drake’s eyes were scanning one of the earnings reports, but his lips
twitched up into a smile at the sound of my cries.

“Please...”

I
felt wrung out and too tender to even think about another orgasm. Every rasp of
the black rubber against my lower lips sent jolts of sensation spiking through
me, pleasure so intense it became pain. I was a raw nerve, exposed and
delicate, being treated most
indelicately
by the heartless machine
plowing into me as long as Mr. Drake saw fit to torture me like this.

I
glanced down at the papers again, trying to distract myself from the pulsing
inside the very heart of me, making my eyes water and my limbs tremble.

Dinner at the Morton’s Pier Yacht
Club.

Software license purchases.

Office supplies.

Gift cards for clients.

Edible arrangements.

Next,
next, next...

I
was at the very edge of my limits, and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ward
off the heightening spiral of overwhelming feeling so like pleasure, but as
ruthlessly sharp as the edge of a knife, carrying me mercilessly toward another
peak.

I
cried then, tears running down my cheeks, wanting to pull away, but unable to
budge. I didn’t know if I could handle it if I came again. Maybe my atoms would
fly apart, or my body would simply alight, the sensation burning me alive.
Maybe I’d combust right here, setting his carpet on fire. Maybe, I’d...
maybe...

All
thought became impossible as I screamed again, wailing like a wounded animal as
the orgasm took me, crashing over me with the force of a tsunami. In the
distance, I heard Mr. Drake’s voice, although the words had no meaning. Not
while I was like this. Not while I was a slave to feeling, a human-sized nerve,
and nothing more.