Bred for Riches: Billionaire's Breeding Dungeon (3 page)

“It's good that you know your place. But now, I'm curious – why this mask of sadness?” He reached down and stroked her cheek. His eyes widened as he felt the faint trails where tears had passed just minutes before.

“Nothing, nothing. Can't we just get on with it?”

“I don't like this, Rebecca. Not at all. I'm not the kind of man who gets off on total degradation. Now, tell me: why were you crying?”

She paused and drew a deep breath. “It wasn't supposed to be like this. Life, I mean. I'm happy to serve you and collect my payment, but I wish I had earned it a different way.”

“There's no shame in what you're doing. Not by my standards, anyway.” His tone softened and he lightly petted her neck. The massage speckled her back with goosebumps.

“You've got it easy, Rebecca. No matter how rough or demanding I get, you only have to do this for a year. Isn't that better than a lifetime of slaving away in some office?”

Rebecca shook her head in agreement, flicking her hair back over her shoulders. She hung on his words as though they contained otherworldly wisdom – what else could she do? – but she wasn't certain she believed them.

“If there's anything I've learned in all my business ventures, it's that time is king. I work hard for my money, but I play just as rough. You've got to seize life, slave, and shake every precious gemstone out of it.” Aaron's hand tightened along the back of her neck. He made a clawing motion with his other hand, his eyes staring off in the distance, as though he were remembering something traumatic.

“I understand.” She smiled unevenly. “Thanks for the words of encouragement. I appreciate it...I really do.”

Aaron looked at her for several more seconds and then sighed. His shoulders sank and a low breath hissed out his mouth.

He couldn't ignore her sadness. This wasn't the domination he had in mind. He wanted to force himself in her and make her hurt, but only enough to bring the superb pleasure they both craved.

“It's been about a week since you arrived. Some fresh air might be good for you...come on.”

Before she could refuse, his hand clamped down around her wrist, pulling her up from the futon. She walked behind him as he unlocked the door.

Soon, they were heading down a long hallway. A large glass door waited at the end, but he stopped before they reached it, undoing the dark black tie around his neck.

“I can't let you see where we are or how to get here...securities and liabilities, you understand. I promise that I'll take it off as soon as we arrive where we're going.”

Rebecca pressed her arms to her sides as he began tying the black strap around her forehead. His tie sufficed as a makeshift blindfold, turning her world to darkness.

The billionaire gripped her more tightly when he was finished, leading her down to the waiting car.

Plush seats comfortably pressed against her back. The leather's interior heat shifted through her sweater and pants, transmitting a warm, dull rumble as the car jerked to motion.

“Cafe 452,” Aaron said through the little window to the driver.

After about ten minutes, he reached across the aisle and undid the blindfold. The back of the limousine was dark and decorated as she imagined it: a lounge-like atmosphere of ivory cushions and gold trim.

He pressed a sparkling beverage into her hands. The fruity concoction gave her tongue a pleasant burn as it passed her lips, like a grand orchard's essence condensed into a couple ounces.

“Hard cider. My favorite. I hope you'll appreciate the crispness as I do.” Aaron clinked the rim of her glass and knocked back his own drink.

The liquor exploded in her stomach, stripping the earlier coolness away. Her brain fogged with a pleasant heat – one part confusion, the rest comfort.

What's going on here? He should be using me on the cold dungeon floor. Not taking me out on a date.

They made their way to a table near the little cafe's rear shortly after the car halted. Inside, a crystal labyrinth awaited them. Rebecca wasn't sure where the fragmented torch light stopped and the glass began, making it one of the most unearthly places she had ever visited.

“Dazzling, isn't it? I come here often when I need a quiet evening.” Aaron sat across the wooden table from her, discarding the menu. He pulled hers away from her hands, leaving a startled expression on her face.

“Let me order for you. The truffle mousse is to die for. I'm not much for chocolate myself, but I thought you would enjoy it.”

Can't say no to that,
she thought.
It's disconcerting how much he reads my thoughts, my tastes,
everything about me. How can someone own my mind after barely knowing it?

When a neat dressed waiter rounded their table, he echoed back an order for what he had told her, along with two more drinks for himself. The elegantly decorated dish of chocolate showed up in minutes, as did short glasses of scotch and more hard cider.

“Mmmm.” The dessert swept across her taste buds like shades of sweet night, coming in layers.

Rebecca's thoughts spun, lost in thick richness. She had only encountered one other pleasure as complex and tasteful as the soft sugars and cocoa rippling through her mouth.

“This is amazing. Do you do this for all your slaves?” She asked, her thoughts drifting back to that
other
pleasure.

Aaron raised his glass and took a long sip. It clinked against the table as he finished. He allowed the burn to burn evaporate off the sides of his cheeks before answering.

“No. But I figured you could use it. The best way to gain loyalty isn't always with the stick,” he said, as though he were giving an apprentice sage advice.

The decadent chocolate slid down her throat, releasing her pent up thoughts. In just a week, she had gone from a base middle class apartment, to a large dungeon room, to the most prized cafe for miles.

Memories swirled, as rich and ghostly as the bitter sweet contrast flowing down her throat.

“Master, may I ask you a question?” She waited for him to nod and swallow his scotch, watching closely as the alcohol distorted the stars in his eyes. “Who is Lex Hamilton?”

She expected the question to bring distaste. The billionaire's face crinkled with disgust, his strong facial muscles twisted into an unpleasant grimace.

“A real bastard who demands far too much of my attention. Hamilton was a protege of mine once...now he's the greatest existential threat to all of Westfield holdings.” The rest of the scotch splashed down his throat, as if he hoped to drown the bitterness in the amber sunlight.

“Sorry...I didn't mean to get into your business. It's not my place.”

“No, no, it's natural to be curious about your environment. I don't normally take calls while I'm downstairs, but the situation with Hamilton is...urgent. You may be getting off easy for the next few months.” He grabbed her hand, admiring the way her skinny wrist flowed outward, accenting her hourglass curves when her arms were at her sides.

“I'm not sure how often I'll be able to make it downstairs. But when I come, I need your complete cooperation. Is that understood?” His eyes pierced through her.

Christ. This is serious, serious stuff. I think I'm starting to see why everything has to be so secret with
him, and so intense too.

Rebecca nodded. She tried to plant herself squarely in his polished Italian shoes...and failed miserably.

Her biggest concerns before signing onto the contract were paying the rent on time and having enough money left over for a shopping spree at her favorite boutique. She couldn't imagine the brutal arena that contained his worries. While she struggled to balance the few thousand dollars she had to her name, he was managing billions every day as the hereditary heir to a global empire.

Aaron cracked his lips and pushed a warm, fragrant breath toward her. It reeked of sharp liquor.

Whatever nerves he had wrestled with earlier, they were soothed now, bent to his will by the strong drink.

“It's time to head back,” he said, pulling her up with him by the hand.

Rebecca gratefully submitted to his tight fingers. Tonight, she knew, was a rare treat. She was sorry to feel it slowly slipping away, though she didn't know what to expect once they arrived back in his basement.

The limo ride home was filled with tense silence. Aaron sat next to her, clutching her tightly to his broad shoulder with his arm. She slid in happily, comforted by his fine fabric and the strength beneath it.

Halfway home, his hand slid down toward her elbow, and then rubbed her side. He pawed at her breast, her soft belly, and lower still.

Aaron's handsome smile gradually changed into a wolf's predatory grin. Rebecca gasped as his hand pressed its way down her waistband. He found her wet and waiting, aroused by the taboo of being fondled in such public elegance.

“I'm going to tear you apart when we get back,” he said, circling her clit with his fingers.

She gripped the leather cushions around her for support, burying her face into his chest. Somehow, Aaron had managed to wipe away the sadness, giving her the finest outing with a man she ever had.

His eager hands reinforced the old relationship between them. Every circle and pinch along her wet folds reminded her that she was his property – nothing but a fragile decoration to do with as he liked.

Hiding the tears is so easy pressed into his suit, suffocating on these lustful screams.
Rebecca's thoughts were coming quick, broken each time he spread her open, exploring her in deeper strokes.
I
shouldn't have gotten my hopes up. All I owe him is my body, and he's obliged to fill my flesh and my
bank account.

Nothing more.

As the limousine pulled up the long drive, he reluctantly pulled away from her. His tie came off again and doubled as a blindfold.

Aaron saw the wetness circling her eyes, but he didn't care. He had done what he could to soothe her heartache – much more than he had done for her slightly less beautiful predecessors. All that mattered now was that his needs were seen to.

Rebecca squirmed, her nerves frazzled as he coiled the chains tightly around her arms and legs. She was no stranger to bondage, but she had never had it with someone so demanding, so truly capable of undoing everything she had.

The billionaire could disappear her tomorrow, and no one would ever know. Or, he might choose to leave her bound permanently, making her beg for release. The animal smile smeared across his face gave no hint about what was to come.

“Finally, you look like a proper slave. Now, we just have to see that you're treated like one,” he whispered. Aaron had slipped out of his jacket as he straddled over her prone body, taking time to fix the chains to the little posts surrounding them.

He had laid her out in a circle near the dungeon's corner. The posts were automatically planted in the ground, waiting to hold her in place.

Coldness circled her most sensitive parts, but it couldn't stifle the heat rearing up inside her. Rebecca clenched her teeth and moaned as he tore her clothes away.

Minutes later, she was fully in place. The sound of clacking irons surrounded her as she lay beneath his immense muscles.

He hadn't taken off her blindfold. The black tie remained wrapped around her head, a comforting darkness that wafted his spicy cologne toward her nostrils.

The scented shadow made her feel like she was buried alive, but in his all consuming presence, rather than the cold ground. Rebecca should've been frightened, but she wasn't. It felt natural, more right than anything.

“Go ahead, Master. Do whatever it is you need to do to me.” Her lips trembled as she spoke, but her words were sincere.

He was the unlikeliest man in the world to take an interest in her. Yet, by some mad fate, he had. The money wasn't on her mind, but their time together at the cafe hung heavy in her thoughts.

She smiled, wondering if this were some pre-planned scheme all along. His clothes rustled as he pulled them off, lowering his fingers and mouth to her soft flesh.

“I'll do it, Rebecca. What I need from you now is something I've thought about for a long

time...something I need if my family's fortune is going to survive Hamilton's attack.” His palms covered her enormous breasts and he squeezed.

“You can't even imagine it. This is a long war, and one I intend to win. The Westfields always come out on top, but only if there are Westfields left to fight. I need you as more than just a slave for pleasure. I need your womb.”

There. He said it,
Rebecca thought, feeling her heartbeat jump several notches, as if it were an instrument placed into a furious musician's hands.
Why don't I feel sick to my stomach, being used this
way?

The question answered itself as she spread her ankles as widely as she could in the chains. Her hips lifted automatically, rising toward his hard fingers. He rubbed her slit, coating himself with her musky wetness.

Aaron watched in amazement as she shifted her thighs open, her brow furrowed above the tie. She wasn't afraid at all. The fearless way she submitted to her breeding made him want her even more.

Naked, he crawled toward her, pressing his hard shaft in between her lips. He began to grind his hips from side to side, teasing her with his sensitive flesh.

When she began to whimper, his hands returned. Rebecca's nipples bloomed in the spaces between his fingers like pink rose tips, naturally drawn toward his hungry mouth.

His shaft ground itself faster as her hips arched up and down. Nipples pulsed in his mouth, until she thought he would suck her in, piece by piece, devouring her forever. Nothing prepared her for where his mouth went next.

Aaron's lips landed squarely on hers in a long, wet kiss. He probed her. Tongues coiled together like two sinful serpents, enacting a dance that only increased the magnetism, drawing his sex into hers.

A hoarse moan filled his mouth, bulging up her throat as he snaked into her. Aaron moved his face away and returned to her breasts, sucking and teasing her nipples with his teeth – a wicked distraction almost more pleasurable than the invasion curving up toward her womb.