Billionaire Black: My Billionaire Boss, Part 4 (A BDSM Erotic Romance) (3 page)

BOOK: Billionaire Black: My Billionaire Boss, Part 4 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)
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Once I was outside it got a little better. It was still mid-afternoon, getting close to four and there was a cool breeze sweeping down the street. I knew I didn't officially finish until five but there was no way I could stay in the office after what had just happened.

I walked down the street towards my bus-stop grinning like an idiot the whole way.

The next day at the office was filled with more emailed tasks from Mr. Stone and I got through most of the day without being sidetracked by thoughts of him. I didn't find any more information on business in my home town
and I wasn't yet ready to start snooping around without direct instruction just yet.

I don't know why I thought this but some part of me started to believe that whatever Stone-Black had done, Mr. Stone hadn't been involved. I had no reason for this idea except that it seemed at odds with the direction the company had taken under his control. They were working in solar technology and even had a branch working on plastics reclamation. There were many many fingers in many many pies but it seemed at least a good half of them were not, well, evil. Strictly speaking.

I say that I didn't think of Mr. Stone much but I did think a few things and then found the door to his office locked when I tried it.

Damn.

I returned from lunch (again at the cafe that took approximately four-point-six million years to make a sandwich) to find a pale golden A4 envelope sitting on my desk.

I sat down and tried to wipe the silly grin off my face. I had to get a hold of myself! I picked up the envelope and smelt his scent and bam, back came that silly grin. I opened it to find an invitation.

Saturday 7pm.

Mi-oh will pick you up on Saturday
to go shopping. You will need a dress, shoes and something sexy.

Do not disobey me.

I shivered when I read that last line and immediately planned on how I could disobey him in some way. His office was locked so I couldn't go in there again. He was out of the office and it looked like I wouldn't see him until Saturday night. I'd just have to improvise that night.

*

The rest of the week zipped by in a blur of work and soon it was Saturday. I spent the morning half doing housework and half watching home renovation shows. I'd just finished a late lunch when Mi-oh rang and told me she'd be downstairs in fifteen minutes.

I quickly changed into what could be called my "best" casual clothes and then spend the rest of the time thinking I should just dress in my business clothes. I'm sure Mr. Stone wouldn't be sending Mi-oh in a limo just to take me to Kmart.

I met Mi-oh downstairs and found her standing beside a pitch-black Bentley wearing a tweed cap, white shirt and red braces like she'd stepped out of some English 1920s bar after playing a spot of cricket.

"You look amazing," I told her as she opened the door.

"Thank you," she said and grinned at me.

She closed the door behind me and we were off. Soon we were chatting away about how obsessed we both were with home remodeling shows
and I didn't realize where we were going until she pulled us over and I looked out the window.

Billion-dollar brand. Billion-dollar brand with a little horse logo. French boutique. A shoe shop I know I saw on one of those life-styles of the rich and famous shows once. Places you didn't even go into, not even as a joke
, in case you sneezed on a tiny top and had to take out a second mortgage to pay for it.

Mi-oh m
ust have seen my discomfort when I finally got out of the car. I was clenching my purse and feeling like I was wearing old wheat sacks rather than actually-pretty-cute jeans and a top that, for once, didn't come out of the bargain bin.

"You're gorgeous and the big boss has it bad for you.
And these girls in here will take care of you. Have fun!" She waved her hand at the boutique behind her and gave me another wink. She looked so ridiculously cute that I just had to laugh and I instantly felt better.

I walked up to the boutique feeling like I was ready for anything. Before I reached the door, a beautiful girl with dyed red hair and a full-length arm tattoo opened it for me. She gave me a glass of champagne and pulled me inside.

It was like a bunch of supermodels had decided to open a boutique.
Except these supermodels had tattoos and piercings and had spent years studying how to not just look sexy but
be
sexy.

"You're Delilah. I'm Alma
. Mr. Stone has told us to take very good care of you."

She held up her glass and we clinked them together.

"Cheers to sexy billionaires," she said.

Cheers to sexy billionaires indeed.

That night, Mi-oh pulled us up in front of Mr. Stone mansion after driving past a row of cars each more expensive than the last.

I was floating somewhere between oh-my-god-I'll-never-fit-in-here and sheer panic and kept looking down at my blacker-than-black high heels wondering if anyone had ever fallen to their death from a pair of shoes.

Despite my sense of impending doom, I had to say that Mr. Stone certainly had taste. He had selected a range of dresses and shoes for me, none of which would be out of place at the Oscars. One dress though had called to me like a siren. It was deep red silk and almost demure at the front, hugging my body and showing off my curves rather than showing all. On the side it was slit up to forever and at the back dipped down lower than anything else I'd ever worn. Alma had given me a silver chain which encircled my neck and slid down my back. I'd had a pedicure, manicure, hair treatment and makeup session before they slinked me into the red dress and slipped the high heels onto my feet.

"You with the kickass dress - we're here," said Mi-oh, opening the car door.

I stepped out of the car onto a red carpet, making sure I wasn't going to be flashing anyone. Mr. Henry was waiting by the front door. He smiled at me, making me feel a lot better.

"You are
a vision," he said as I approached.

I blushed and mumbled thanks in return. If I had many more compliments my head would soon be too big to fit through the door.

"If you would come with me," he said. I followed him inside and heard the murmur of guests to the left. We went up the staircase and along the corridor to a guest bedroom. It wasn't the same one I'd stayed in but was just as luxurious.

Mr. Henry waved me in to the bedroom, gave a small bow and then closed the door. I turned around to see a pale gold envelope sitting on the middle of the bed. I picked it up and held it to my face and breathed in. Again, it was Mr. Stone. I opened it and pulled out the handwritten note inside.

You must wear what is in the box at the end of the bed. Be warned: once you put it on, only I can remove it.

Remember, you represent me and I expect you to be calm and collected.

I immediately went to the wooden chest sitting at the end of the bed and opened it. Inside was a small golden box. I lifted it out and set it on the bed. Had he left the leather collar for me to wear?

I opened the box and found a delicate pair of black underwear with a twist. In the front and underneath was a firm pad, much like the vibrating egg
and plug that he'd had me use. However there was no egg or plug this time. It was just a flat firm pad which, if I had to guess, probably vibrated. The waist band was also slightly thicker than normal but honestly I didn't see what was so special about these. What did he mean that once I put these on I wouldn't be able to remove them? Knowing his love of high-tech sex toys, I guessed they locked on somehow.

I examined the underwear for another minute and then decided to put them on. He wanted me to wear this while I met people - fine.
This was his challenge? I'd walked through a maze with a vibrating plug and egg inside of me. I slipped into the underwear and felt the front panel press up against my sex.

As soon as I pulled the underwear on I felt
the waistband tighten and felt it click into place. The only way I was taking these off now was if Mr. Stone unlocked them.

Nothing to worry about at all.

*

I was halfway down the corridor when a powerful vibration slammed into me and I dropped to my knees. It went for
about ten seconds but it felt like a lifetime of mind-melting pure pleasure. It switched off as quickly as it started and I started breathing again. My clit was pulsing and I was on the brink of orgasm already. I held still, afraid that if I moved it would rub against me and I'd end up a boneless puddle on the ground. A minute or so later I got my heart-rate under control and managed to get to my feet.

Whatever these underwear were, they were no simple vibrating sex toy.
It was completely silent to start with, yet massively powerful. I prayed to the god of sex toys that what I'd just felt was the maximum setting. I took deep breaths and walked to the main staircase. Mr. Henry was waiting at the bottom near the door. He smiled at me and waved his hand towards the murmur of people I'd heard earlier.

I gripped the handrail and walked down the stairs, still feeling a pulse in my body. Mr. Stone was out there somewhere
and holding the power to vibrate my brains out any time he wanted. I was going to be calm and collected. I'd orgasm with a straight face if need be.

I reached the bottom of the stairs and followed the sounds of the party along the corridor. It turned and led me towards the rear of the mansion and soon I approached a double set of polished oak doors staffed by
a young female butler dressed in black pants and a white shirt. She smiled and opened the doors for me.

I gasped as I stepped through the doors and looked down into the simply enormous room below me.
A giant glittering chandelier hung over a sunken ballroom. Bars were spotted about the place and there were multiple levels and nooks for beautiful people to congregate. Most of the men were in suits of black or grey and the women ranged from impossibly beautiful demure to impossibly beautiful in something slinky and gorgeous. Light sparkled from the chandelier on diamonds scattered throughout the crowd.

I stopped on the edge of the landing and gripped the banister, scanning the room for Mr. Stone. If I could see him it would be okay. I'd just focus on him.

I finally saw him standing near one of the bars talking to a group of gentlemen. He was dressed in a black suit, just like the rest of the men but somehow it barely seemed to contain him. He looked young and powerful and drop-dead sexy and I imagined I could hear the ice-cubes clinking in the glass of scotch he held.

He glanced up at me and then held my gaze, his face smooth and unreadable.
Then he winked and slid his free hand into his jacket pocket. I was so absorbed with seeing him that I didn't realize what him sliding a hand into his pocket meant until it happened. The powerful vibration surged to life and I gripped the banister, holding on so I wouldn't collapse to the ground.

Somehow I managed to hold his gaze when all I wanted to do was moan and fold down to the ground.
The buzzing stopped and Mr. Stone removed his hand from his jacket and waved at me to come down to him. I took a deep breath, put my shoulders back and, keeping a firm grasp of the banister, walked down the stairs. Halfway down I saw Mr. Stone smile at me, down his scotch and then excuse himself from the group of men.

He met me at the bottom of the stairs and held out his hand to me. I took it and stepped down, feeling like I had floated all the way.

"You are beauty itself," he said.

He smiled at me but then winked again and I suddenly remembered the switch he had in his pocket. At any moment he could press it...

"Thank you, sir," I said, the essence of formality.

He stepped closer to me, his strong arm encircling my waist, his lips near my ear. I breathed in his scent and felt myself relaxing.

"I will tear this dress off you later," Mr. Stone whispered in my ear and then stepped back. To everyone watching, it may have just looked like a quick embrace but my heart was thudding at the thought of being with him again.

"Now come with me," he said and led me through the crowd.

As we approached a group of women gathered around an older women holding court, a low vibration started, causing me to breath in sharply. Mr. Stone glanced at me but said nothing. The group of women moved away leaving the older woman waiting for us.

"Jackson Stone you must learn to return phone calls." She wiggled her finger at him and he smiled in return. I tried to smile but even the low buzz was making it difficult to focus. "And who is this beautiful girl?" she added.

"Ms. Delilah Neri, my date. Delilah, this is Andrea Wright, owner of Wright Technologies and currently on the cutting edge of solar panel research and manufacture."

"Number one in the sun," she deadpanned and held out her hand to me. I smiled and her and shook it, hoping that the beautiful madman next to me would have the sense to shut off the vibration so I could talk. The buzzing suddenly ceased, as though he'd read my mind.

"Very nice to meet you, Ms. Wright. I've read a lot about you." As I said it, I realized it was actually true. In the mass of contracts and work I'd done this week I'd read plenty about her and her company. They were simultaneously partners and competitors with Stone-Black, sometimes working together and sometimes competing against each other.

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