Don't Ever Stop: A BDSM Billionaire Romance (12 page)

‘So what if I let you do this to me? What then?’

‘There would be rules,’ he said gently. ‘There are ways it has to be done. You’d need to obey those rules.’

‘Would I have to be naked?’ I asked, fearfully.

‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘You’ve seen the statues around my house. The most artistic way to represent the human form is without clothes. Skin is the perfect canvas.’

I braced myself to ask the most terrifying question yet. ‘Is it about sex?’ I stammered, trembling. ‘Is this a sexual thing?’

Mr. Cooper took the rope from my hands, and pulled a section of it completely taut, then let it slacken in his hands. ‘Not necessarily,’ he said.

I held onto the end of the rope, which was still in the box, and we began kneading the same length of roper together, holding it at different ends, almost like two children with a skipping rope… except that we definitely weren’t children any more.

There was no way I could tell my boss that I’d never had sex. Besides, I didn’t think he wanted to have sex with me. He just wanted to do this rope thing. For the sake of art. Someone like Redmond Cooper would never actually want to have sex with me. Just humiliate me in some way.

‘Rose,’ he said softly, ‘this rope is an extension of me.’ I felt suddenly embarrassed that I was squeezing and kneading part of it between my fingers, but I didn’t let go. I held onto it even harder.

‘And I’d like it,’ he continued, ‘if it became an extension of you, too.’

He lifted up the rope now, taking it out of my hands, and slid it over my shoulders. Feeling the weight of it behind my back made me realise just how powerful it was, how tightly a rope like this would be able to bind me. How impossible it would be to break free of it if I was, say, held hostage somewhere. Was I being held hostage now? He slipped the rope further down my back, and I felt it running over my spine, reminding me how skinny I was, how much I’d enjoyed being told what to eat this week. As the rope passed further down my spine, the hairs on my arms began to stand on end.

‘I don’t know,’ I shivered, aware of a growing tingle between my thighs, a gradual moistness spreading at the top of my legs.

I looked into my boss’ eyes, and he stared back at me, harsh and serious, full of stern desire. ‘Think about it,’ he said.

‘Okay,’ I responded, gasping as the rope reached my coccyx, and he pulled it tight against me, sending quick ripples down into my buttocks. ‘I’ll do it,’ I said. ‘I’ll let you tie me up.’ I couldn’t believe what I was saying. I don’t know if it was the saké, or the wine, or the smell of Mr. Cooper’s aftershave, or the warm, wet feeling between my legs, but this wasn’t like me at all. I had no idea where I was going with this. I felt strangely free – and like I was tumbling forwards, unable to stop myself.

Mr. Cooper’s lips looked dry, and he ran his tongue across them quickly, looking down at my neck, my shoulders, not letting his gaze travel further, though I guessed he might want to. ‘If you agree to this, Rose, then you know I’ll have to be in complete control. This isn’t something you can dip your toes into. You go all in. You surrender. Completely.’

I felt the rope grazing my the back of my dress, looked at my boss’ big, strong hands. ‘I’m surrendering,’ I whispered. ‘I surrender.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

An Exercise In Imagination

There’s nothing much to tell you about the rest of that night. Don’t believe me? I’m serious. We didn’t make out. I didn’t stay over. Nothing weird happened. No funny business whatsoever.

In fact, after I’d finished my glass of wine, I felt pretty disappointed, heading home in the cab alone. I had been ready to give him everything that night. It was like I was under his spell. I’d have let him take my virginity. And that’s no small thing. I’d been waiting to pop my cherry in
just the right way
for years. How I thought losing it to my billionaire boss, while he tied me up into tiny, painful knots was the right way to do it, I don’t know. I suppose it felt so wrong that it just made nothing matter any more. Losing my virginity was never going to be perfect. Why not just accept that and make it as
imperfect
as possible?

By the time I got back to my parents’ house, they were both in bed. I crept up the stairs, into my room, and took a long look in the mirror. My lips and teeth were stained red from the wine. I looked like I’d been drinking blood. I looked at the rest of my face. My high cheekbones, my small, delicate features. I think, now that my boss had seen something in me, it made me see myself differently. I took off my cardigan, and unzipped my dress. I looked at myself in just my bra. It was an old, white, cotton bra, that had turned gray in the wash over the years. Good job I didn’t let my boss see that! I needed to go underwear shopping, stat.

Aside from my bra though, I actually looked okay. I tried to imagine I was someone else, looking at me. Like I was Redmond Cooper, looking at Rose Smith. Tonight, when I looked at myself, I actually thought I had some stuff going for me. I had a nice neck. Yeah. My neck was absolutely fine. I had a great neck! I was a bit tipsy, and couldn’t help laughing. It wasn’t just my neck that was okay. My collarbone was quite elegant too, and the shape of my shoulders wasn’t too far off the shape of the shoulders on that statue of Artemis. My pale green eyes sparkled like Amazonite crystals. I looked like something was burning inside me.

I felt different too.

I felt like the old Rose Smith was about to be put to rest. Like something momentous was taking place inside me. It made me feel powerful for the first time in I don’t know how long. It made me feel horny.

I took off my pants next and sat on my bed in my underwear. Then I lay on my back and looked up at the ceiling.

I wondered what Redmond Cooper was doing at this moment. If he felt horny too. He hadn’t even kissed me on the cheek when we said goodnight; just gave me a firm handshake and said he looked forward to our arrangement. No clue as to
when
this arrangement might take place. The thought even crept into my head that I’d made it too easy for him. That now I’d agreed to let him tie me up, he’d lost interest. The excitement of the chase had subsided.

You idiot, Rose! Always make them wait.

I tried to imagine my boss’ actions after closing the door. Did he finish off that bottle of wine? Stay up caressing the rope, thinking of me? Did he touch himself? It was strange to imagine my boss having a penis. He was the most gorgeous-looking guy I’d ever seen, but he was one of those untouchables, those A-list hotties that you actually know in real life, that you have to talk to on a daily basis, so you just tried not to imagine them as sexual beings, in case they could see it in your eyes when you next spoke.

But Redmond Cooper was all man. He had a penis, and I’d been sitting on the sofa beside it this very evening.

I let my hand trail down my stomach, running over my gray cotton panties. I was still wet down there. The muscles in my thighs kept tightening and loosening, as if they were fucking the air between my legs. I was desperate to find out how it might feel to have a cock in there. How much better than my own fingers would it feel?

I pushed my hands all the way into my panties, and stroked my fingers over the moist, silken lips.

I want my boss. I want to fuck my boss.

I imagined myself back on his sofa, wondered what might have happened if, while he pulled the rope across my back, I’d leant forwards slightly, pressed my lips against his…

My boss wants to tie me up
.

Or what if I’d let him tie me up? How might that have felt?

I reached down to the carpet and picked up the pantyhose I’d been wearing all evening. They were soft but heavy duty, forty denier so my legs didn’t show through. They felt strong. I wound the pantyhose around one of my wrists, then pulled them taut against my skin using my teeth. I pulled a little harder, trying to see how tightly coiled I could get them, but my teeth started to hurt, and the taste of nylon on my tongue was unappealing.

I lay back, frustrated, and began stroking myself again. I ran my fingers over the warm juices dripping out of me, and then stuck in an exploratory finger. How might two fingers feel? And now three? How big is a penis? All five fingers? I couldn’t get all five fingers in. The angle was a bit too weird, but I pushed in three, which felt most comfortable, and let my fingers sit inside me.

I hope my parents don’t walk in now
.

I tried to imagine my hand was Redmond Cooper’s cock. I imagined him whispering dirty things into my ear, running those jute ropes all over my body, dragging them across my skin, tying knots around my back…

He didn’t even ask for my number. Maybe he was just drunk tonight. Maybe he didn’t mean any of it…

I pushed my fingers deeper inside myself.

He didn’t seem drunk…

I began circling my clit with my thumb, and pushing my fingers inside me as fast as I could, feeling my nail nick the edge of one of my soft little lips, causing me to wince in pain for a moment. But I tried to embrace the pain, and carried on. I turned over onto my stomach and humped my fingers as hard as I could.

Imagine it’s a cock, Rose. Imagine you’re fucking a nice big dick.

My stomach muscles tightened. My inner thighs felt burning hot, like there was electricity running through them. I felt like I’d never be satiated, like my fingers could never be enough. With my free hand, I pushed off my bra and felt my nipple, squeezing it to make it hard beneath my fingertips. Then I squeezed it harder still, until it made me cry out in pain. I couldn’t stop myself. I continued to push my fingers in and out, as hard and fast as I possibly could, until I was sure the squeaking of my mattress would wake up my parents. I pushed my face into the pillow, cried out again, imagining Redmond Cooper’s dick, hard and red and pumped full of blood, desperate to fuck me, imagined him lying on his bed, just like me, ejaculating all over his smart silk sheets…

I pressed my thumb hard against my clitoris just as I felt myself come. I breathed heavily, the ripples of pleasure running all the way through me.

Then I picked up my cell phone, beside my bed, and wrote a text.

Patrick, I miss you. Let’s meet up. xxx

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Negotiation

Thursday. It had always been my least favorite day of the week. I think it went back to my schooldays. I used to have double math first thing on a Thursday morning, which always filled me with a sense of dread. But I also hated the fact it was so close to the weekend, but not quite close enough to get excited about it yet. By the time you reached Thursday, you’d become sort of institutionalized from nearly a full working week. You’d forgotten how freedom felt, what it was like to get up at a leisurely hour, eat breakfast in front of the television in your pajamas, go for a walk in the park and stop to look at squirrels and birds, to see nature getting on with its thing, all around you.

Today was a Thursday, and it was no different to any other. I was tired and ratty, and desperate for the weekend. Mr. Cooper hadn’t said a word to me since Tuesday night, which confirmed my suspicions: he was drunk, or out of his mind, when he said all that weird stuff to me at the restaurant, and showed me back to his apartment, and he sincerely regretted making such a fool of himself. The only silver lining was that Patrick had replied to my text and we’d arranged to meet up on Saturday. He’d suggested we drive out into the countryside, and go to a ‘pick your own fruit and veg’
farm. The asparagus and beets are in season, he said, and if we were lucky we might get some chard. It sounded…
kind
of
romantic. Maybe not the chard bit. But at least he was making an effort. And I’d been a fool to think Redmond Cooper was any sort of serious prospect. He was my boss. He was a billionaire. He was drop-dead gorgeous. I mean, sure, he was eccentric… But he could have
anyone
. And he’d clearly forgotten all about me.

‘Oi, Daydream Believer…’ Tegan’s voice surfaced in my mind. ‘Earth to Rose? Hello?’ Tegan had been saying something. Shit. I was sitting back in my chair, slack-jawed, staring at the ceiling. I sat up straight, wiggled my mouse to make my screen crackle off the screensaver and back into action, and I looked at Tegan.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘What can you do for me?’ Tegan scoffed. ‘Jesus, Rose. ‘You’ve been in this job less than a fortnight. You need to apply yourself, sweetness! I don’t know how you got the job, considering you have zero journalistic qualifications, but now that you’re here, you need to get on with it if you want to get anywhere. You’re on
probation
, you know. You need to learn your shorthand and learn the ropes. All I’ve seen you doing the past few days is staring dreamily into space, and stuffing yourself with wasabi nuts, popcorn, and all kinds of crunchy shit that I hear you chomping away on all day long. Come on lady, pull your socks up!’

I looked down at my computer keyboard, full of crumbs, in embarrassment. Mr. Cooper had sent me a long, and very detailed, food list for the week. As the days went on, he was getting me to snack more and more. He had obviously been keen for me to put weight on my bones, and fast. The food was all very healthy, and I was a fairly active person, so I didn’t have a problem with it, from a health perspective. Besides, the more I’d been eating, the more of an appetite I’d been starting to build up. Even though I was pissed at my boss, he’d really helped me out with this diet plan. I felt like my clothes were starting to fit me better already.