At His Insistence: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 4 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

At His Insistence:
The Billionaire’s Beck and Call, Part 4

 

By
Delilah Fawkes

 
 
 

“I’m
waiting, Isabeau.”

I glanced
down at the diamond choker, sparkling even in the dim light of Mr. Drake’s
dungeon, perfectly juxtaposed with the black, leather collar sitting next to it
on a velvet cushion.

How could
I accept such a gift? And could I give myself to him when he might ditch me for
a newer model at any moment? What made me, Isabeau Willcox, different from all
the rest?

I looked
into his eyes, so intense, willing me to speak, to say ‘yes’ to his proposal. I
could tell my silence was grating on him, even as he held me close, the sweat
from our lovemaking mingling on our naked bodies.

“I can’t.”

The look
in his eyes made me cringe.

“At least…
not yet.”

His eyes flashed
dangerously, and he stood, pushing me off him onto my feet. My bones still felt
like Jell-O from the earth-shattering sex we’d just had, but now I wanted to
cover up, to hide from his accusing stare.

“Tell me
why.”

His voice
was deep and dangerous as he set the box aside, closing it with a snap. This
was obviously not what he’d planned on happening, and it visibly chafed him.
Mr. Drake was nothing if not a control freak.

“I…”

I reached
a hand out to touch him, to comfort him, but pulled it back on second thought.

“I’m not
sure. At the office, they say you go through assistants like Kleenex.”

My hand darted
to my mouth. I hadn’t meant to just come right out and say it! I didn’t mean to
blurt out what made me hesitate, when all I wanted was to run into his arms and
say I’d be his.

Damn it, Isabeau!

He moved
so fast, I didn’t have time to think. His hand was on my throat, his thumb
caressing the hollow of my neck in a way that made my blood boil and fear
course through me like a drug.

“So that’s
it, is it? You don’t trust me? Even after tonight?” He shook his head, pulling
me closer.

I gasped
in his grip.

“Answer me
when I ask you a question, Isabeau.”

“I do…
it’s just…”

I couldn’t
think with his hand on me like this, his face just inches from mine.

“Just
what?”

“What
makes me so different?”

I looked
him square in the eyes, and blushed as I felt the tears stinging my own.
Don’t let him see you cry. Get yourself
together.

The
thought of giving myself over to him only to be discarded was more than I could
bear. This whole thing felt like a dream, and maybe it was only that, and my
time was always limited. But was it worth it if it would only end in
heartbreak?

Mr.
Drake’s hand remained on my throat, caressing me gently, but reminding me of
who was in the position of power. His other hand stroked my face, brushing my
hair back, the touch making me tingle. Something behind his eyes changed as he
looked at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say they were tinged with sadness.

“You
really don’t know how special you are, do you?”

For a
moment, his words took my breath away.

Then he
turned, leaving me standing naked and alone in his dungeon. I froze, stunned,
for a few seconds, before hurrying after him, through the concealed door and
out into the study. I called after him down the hallway.

“Wait!
Aren’t I sleeping with you tonight?”

He turned,
and I could tell he was smirking even in the shadows. “I’ll share my bed when
you wear my collar.”

With that,
he walked away, leaving me alone with my regret.

 

***

 

In the morning,
another note was waiting for me, this time informing me that a car was outside,
ready to take me anywhere I wished to go.

Rich man brush off
, I thought, frowning. I’d definitely pissed
him off by not accepting his offer out of hand. Would he want to see me again?
Or was I Miss Self Fulfilling Prophecy? I covered my face with my hands. How
could I have been so stupid?

Mr. Drake
was everything I wanted in a man, and several things I’d never even considered,
but now couldn’t live without. Gorgeous, confident, self-made, and dominant in
a way that made things feel simpler. Calmer. Safer.

I chewed
my lip, turning that thought over in my mind. Why would I feel safe around
someone so dangerous? Why would I feel safe with a man who liked the things
that he did? Who enjoyed inflicting pain? Imposing his will?

His words
from the other night came back to me; what he’d said right before he’d shown me
his darkest secret.

“I could tell you longed for someone to
trust. Someone to take control.”

Was he
right? Did I long for someone to take control? To let me off the hook for just
a little while?

I thought
of those years I spent taking care of my family, making sure we had food on the
table, and then caring for Grandma Rose until she passed away. I’d always had
the weight of the world on my shoulders, but now that I was on my own, I felt
lost. Maybe giving up the reins was exactly what I needed.

Maybe it
would help me discover how to take care of myself. To put my own needs first,
even as I surrendered to
his
.

Mr. Drake’s…

The
thought of pleasing him, of being his to command, of doing as he demanded,
filled me with longing. But had I screwed things up before they had a chance to
get going? Would Mr. Drake still want me after last night?

I dressed
quickly and followed Mr. Daniels to the waiting Rolls Royce. I raised an
eyebrow at the choice of vehicle, then slid into the back with a muttered
“thank you.” I couldn’t believe I was going back to my crappy apartment in this
thing, but I supposed I’d have to get used to it if I was really going to
pursue this.

By the
time I reached home, I’d made up my mind: It was worth the risk. I would be Mr.
Drake’s slave. I would give him control when we were alone, and do my best to
please him.

That is,
if he’d still have me.

 

***

 

The next
day I arrived at the office in my best red dress and high heels, ready to
declare myself his, only to find that Mr. Drake was out for the day. I drummed
my fingernails on the desk, willing the time to pass, but the clock seemed to
be rigged to move at half speed. If I didn’t need the money, I would have left
then and there to go find him, but I couldn’t risk losing a day’s wages.

I fidgeted
as I worked through a pile of transcriptions, stopping frequently to daydream
about what I would say to him once I saw him again. I mumbled the words to
myself at my desk in the empty corridor outside the executive office,
practicing.

“I’m
sorry, Sir. I let my fear get the best of me. I do trust you, and I want to do
this. To be with you…”

It sounded
so stiff, but I’d never been good at voicing my emotions.

“This is
the best thing that’s ever happened in the whole of my boring-ass life,” I
said, sighing. “I can’t chicken out now.”

The bell
on the elevator chimed, and I sat up straight, smoothing my hair down in case it
was Mr. Drake returning.

A bike
messanger stepped out and made his way to my desk, holding out a manilla
envelope with one word scrawled across it.
Isabeau
.

“I was
told to leave this with you,” he said.

Curious, I
took it from him. “Do you know who it’s from?”

He
shrugged, looking bored. “I just go where I’m told, lady. Some guy had me
waiting in the lobby all morning to deliver this as just the right time. Weirdo.”

He made
for the elevator without looking back. I waited until the doors slid shut behind
him before tearing the envelope open. I pulled out a note written in an elegant
hand on Mr. Drake’s personal stationary.

 

I
knew you’d change your mind, my little temp. Stay with me tonight.

But
first, pick yourself up some new clothes. A car is waiting outside to take you
to the stores I prefer. You’ll need a cocktail dress, shoes and lingerie.

 

I opened
my mouth, wanting to protest, even though no one was around, then smiled as I
read the last line.

 

Do
as you’re told, or you’ll get more than a spanking.

 

He knew me
so well.

I raised
an eyebrow. He knew me
too
well. How
did he know I’d changed my mind about being his?

I peered
around me, scrutinizing everything on my desk for the first time. Then, I
spotted it—a Drake & Smith pen holder stood nestled between my stapler and
computer monitor. A black camera lense winked up at me from the middle of the
ampersand.

That sick
bastard has been spying on me! I wondered if there was a microphone in place as
well and shook my head. Suddenly, I grinned, and reached for my post-it-notes.
I scrawled a quick note, and held it up to the camera.

 

Your
wish is my command,
SIR
.

 

I blew a
kiss, then covered the camera with the yellow post-it. I giggled, imagining his
face contorting in annoyance as the visual cut out. I was definitely going to
be punished for that little stunt later. But for now, I had more important
things to do.

I turned
the envelope over, and a credit card slid out onto my desk. It was an American
Express Black Card, made of titanium, and it clunked as it hit the wood. I
gasped. I’d heard about these, but never seen one in real life. They were
invitation-only and as exclusive as it gets… and here I was holding one in my
hand.

I picked
my jaw up off the floor and headed for the elevator. It would be a shame to
keep Mr. Drake waiting.

 

***

 

When the
Rolls pulled up in front of the first store, I couldn’t believe my eyes. This
was a section of town I’d never shopped in, for obvious reasons. There was a
Tiffany’s next to a Gorgio Armani, and several boutiques with french names that
seemed more than a little intimidating. I stepped out of the car, and gave the
driver a nervous glance.

“You’ll be
fine, Miss Willcox,” he said, his smile making his eyes crinkle. “The boutique is
just up ahead. They’re waiting for you.”

I nodded
and mouthed a “thank you.” My mouth was too dry for words at that moment. What
was I doing? I didn’t belong in a place like this, wearing a dress that I’d
purchased on sale at the Gap. It was humiliating.

I gripped
my purse so tightly my knuckles were turning white, feeling queasy about the
credit card inside. How much did I dare put on there? It was all just too
weird. I felt uncomfortable just thinking about spending someone else’s money
on something so frivolous as clothing.

I forced
myself to walk, putting one foot in front of the other until I was at the door
of the boutique. But before I could touch the door, it swung open, and a
beautiful older woman handed me a glass of champagne.

“You must
be Miss Willcox,” she said, beaming at me. Her icy blonde hair was swept into a
classic up-do; her clothing impeccable and of the finest quality.

“My girls
and I are going to take excellent care of you today. If you’ll follow me, Mr.
Drake has laid some items out for you to choose from.”

I sipped
the champagne, letting the cool bubbles play on my tongue.
Of course he has.

I smiled.
He’s taken care of everything.
I should
have suspected as much.

 

***

 

Four hours
later, the Rolls Royce pulled up in front of the Drake mansion, coming to a
stop in front of the huge wooden doors. I fussed with the strap on my new
sky-high black heels, wrapped around my freshly pedicured feet. I felt
ridiculous in this dress, but it was my favorite out of all the choices laid
out by Mr. Control Freak himself. All of them were exquisitely made, not to
mention short and revealing, but something about this one had mesmerized me as
soon as I held it up to the light.

Metallic
silk draped low in the front, hugging my hips enough to flatter, and dropping
dangerously low in back, baring enough skin to make me blush. I’d never been
one for slinky dresses or showing off my body. Added together with the $500
heels and I felt completely out of sorts, like a pig in lipstick.

Hopefully
I didn’t look too ridiculous.

Mr.
Drake’s butler held the door for me as I entered, and I smiled shyly at him.

“You look
lovely, if I may say so, Miss Willcox.”

My cheeks
heated, and I knew I was blushing. “Thank you, Mr. Daniels.”

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