His Command: (Billionaire Bound: Part 1) A Dark New Adult Romance (5 page)

Her cheeks were scarlet, and Ciaran stepped back slightly, his gaze roaming over her ample form as she stood practically naked in one of the rooms of his penthouse, watching as she trembled. For just a second, her gaze flickered toward the door anyone could walk though, and his eyes followed, narrowing slightly. “Go sit on the piano bench,” he told her simply.

Licking her lips compulsively, Beth nodded faintly, her step in her heels even more faltering than before as she turned and moved to that piano, sitting down upon the bench uncertainly.

“No. Back to the keys.” She jumped at the order but quickly corrected herself, looking over her shoulder at him. He hadn’t moved, his fingers in the pockets of his suit and drawing something out from them. The way his eyes narrowed at her glance made her look away again. Her heart was going a million beats per second, and she was trembling—and yet there was a heat that was pooling in her lower stomach, that had been pooling since he had kissed her. That was pooling for the fact that he was commanding her. “Take off your bra.”

He was suddenly standing in front of her, looking down at her where she sat with her thighs so tightly together, and she had to crane her neck to look up at him. “M-my bra? Ciaran, I’m not… sure about this. I mean, I just—”

“Bethany,” he interrupted swiftly, “when I give you an order, I expect it to be followed. Is that understood? I will not harm you, and I will not do anything you are uncomfortable with, but I
will
be obeyed. And I will not repeat myself a second time.”

Flushed, Beth reached behind her and unclasped her bra, peeling it off and dropping it onto the floor beside the piano bench. She had the urge to reach up, to wrap her arms around her breasts and their hardening, aching tips, but his next command precluded any such idea. “Put your wrists behind your back.” This time, she obeyed without questioning him, and he smiled slightly, pleased with how quickly she learned. Ciaran knelt down, reaching around behind her.

She jumped when she felt the sensation of silk on her skin—drawing her wrists together, and then tying them together, firmly and intently, so that as she tugged upon the material, testing the sensation, she couldn’t break free. Beth looked over her shoulder uncertainly, never having been… tied up before. God, she had never been tied up before—she had never been naked in front of a perfect stranger before! What the hell was she doing? And why did she like it so much…?

Ciaran had turned his attention to her breasts, though, one hand lifting and grasping the underside of one, lifting it toward him as if inspecting it. Beth blushed, noticing how her nipple grew harder under his gaze. He smirked again, and then his tongue emerged once more, swirling around it, coaxing it into further hardness, for a long moment until she moaned, squirming on the piano bench. He drew back and released her breast, his attention shifting away from it as quickly as it had come. Beth was panting a little bit, watching him where he knelt. “Spread your legs open, Bethany.”

She felt her heart leap into her throat, and she bit her lip, but she didn’t move to obey, not yet. His eyes flickered up to her disapprovingly, and his hand moved to the breast he hadn’t licked; Ciaran’s fingers wrapped around that nipple, and she squealed as he pinched her in punishment. Gasping, she parted her thighs, quivering, and he released, turning his attention to her ankles. The same silk fabric was tied around each ankle before being fastened to the leg of the piano bench, keeping her spread there where she sat. Completely helpless…

“C-Ciaran…” Beth stammered uncertainly, though he wasn’t looking up at her face and instead his eyes were focused on her panties, the only bit of modesty she had left. “I’m not really… sure about this…”

His hand lifted, and she moaned as he pressed against the core of her panties, rubbing slowly back and forth across her covered mound. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she could feel a wetness growing inside of her. “Bethany,” he murmured, ignoring her concerns, “I am rather pleased with you tonight. The cakes and cupcakes you provided were exquisite, and as delicious as you promised. You will receive a substantial tip, just as I promised.” He leaned nearer to her, his hot breath brushing against her throat. “But I have the intention of rewarding you in a different way as well, right here, right now. Just be a good girl, and let me…”

Trembling, heart pounding, Beth shut her eyes tightly at the words. He meant to reward her with sex—she wasn’t stupid enough not to realize that, of course, but the words, set there so plainly, made her mind race, and she thought about that word again, wondering if she should say it, put an end to this.
This
was insane, absolutely crazy, and she couldn’t actually be considering letting him—

“Do not think about it so hard,” he interrupted her rambling thoughts, and Beth squealed as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her panties, ghosting through her cloud of curls before slipping between the wet folds of her loins, rubbing at her slowly, maddeningly. “Just give me an answer, Bethany…”

“Yes,” she gasped without thinking, all at once, and Ciaran smiled, pressing a kiss to the hollow of her throat—except then his fingers were pulling away from her slit, and she let out a whine of disappointment, opening her eyes to look at him.

“Fear not,” he murmured, his other hand stroking her cheek, “I’ll return in just a moment.” He turned, moving back out toward the party.

Beth turned her head, eyes wide, and watched him go—before testing the strength of her bonds again, a bit more adamantly than before, with some part of her not able to believe she had agreed, even though her slit was burning and upset for having been left wanting. Despite the fact that they amounted to little more than silk scarves, however, she couldn’t even budge the knots a little bit, and instead all she managed to do was… tighten them, against her. They didn’t hurt in the slightest, but she found herself squirming just to feel them tighten around her, her hips slipping back and forth across the piano bench, rubbing at herself. Her breath got quicker.

“Tip your head back and open your mouth.” Ciaran had returned without her even being aware of it, and she turned quickly to look at him, startled, before shifting to obey, blushing as she opened her mouth like that. A moment later, though, she found him trickling a golden stream of champagne into her open lips, and she gasped, startled, before lapping it up as it splattered around her mouth, quivering. She had always loved champagne, even if this unorthodox way of drinking it left it to spill down her chin, dripping onto her breasts and gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Ciaran was moving to kneel in front of her again once he had stopped spilling the champagne, setting the flute on the floor, and something else on the piano bench beside her. “Do not close your mouth until I tell you to, Bethany.” She nodded a little, and then his hand was rewarding her by slipping back into her panties, and she moaned, her loins pulsing around him a little bit as he grew slick with her wetness. He leaned forward, licking a line of champagne off her breast. “Mm… You’re already so hot, sweet Bethany… I wonder if you’ve ever imagined something like this before…” He smirked, and she blushed—and then he was rewarding her by letting his fingers wrap around her clit.

Beth squealed and arched, forcing herself to keep her lips open even for the way she shuddered at the sensation. Beneath the folds of her panties, he spread her lower lips for himself, letting her wetness gush forth, staining her panties and escaping onto the polished ebony top of the bench. And yet his fingers drew away from her clit far too soon, and she whimpered, looking down at him uncertainly, as her hips thrust toward his hand, wanting more, desperately wanting more…

“Tell me,” he murmured, reading the look in her eyes. “Tell me what you want, Bethany.”

She swallowed hard. “I want you to touch me,” she whispered, embarrassed.

“How?”

Her blush grew darker. “I want you to… to play with my clit… like you were before.”

Ciaran smirked at her, knowing all of this perfectly well, and yet seeming to utterly enjoy making her say it. “Do you want something inside of your slit, Bethany?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I want… I want something inside of my slit… I want to… t-to come…”

“Open your mouth again.” She obeyed him, and squeaked in surprise when his fingers pressed into her mouth, carrying with them a glob of cake. “Suck them clean. Suck and lick them clean, sweet Bethany, and I will make you come.”

Her eyes widened, utterly embarrassed at the idea, and yet his fingers plied teasingly at the entrance to her tunnel, thumb drifting around her clit but never quite touching, and she whimpered before her mouth closed down on his fingers, and she started to suckle at him. Her tongue lifted, lapping at the cake, searching for the sources of sugary sweetness.

“Good girl…”

Beth squealed, muffled, a moment later as he pressed a finger into her slowly, her slit tightening around him at the sensation; his thumb brushed her clit.

All at once, she realized the game he was playing, and regardless of the blush on her cheeks, Beth started suckling his fingers more ardently. She pressed herself closer to his palm, and he rewarded her by pressing another finger into her, making her shudder, and beginning to thrust into her. Her tongue explored the ridges of his fingers, his nails, lapping away every bit of her decadent cake. This one had been chocolate fudge, with a rich buttercream fondant making up the mural on top of it, and his thumb pressed down on her clit, rubbing slowly back and forth and making her hips buck.

“Good girl, Bethany… I should not be surprised that a baker knows how to use her mouth so well,” he teased into her ear, leaning forward to lick at the nipple he had pinched so harshly before. “Although these lovely lips down here… They need a bit more instruction…” All of a sudden, he was slamming his fingers into her as deep as they could go, moments after they had just drawn out to the tips. Beth squealed and arched, gasping around his fingers. He took the opportunity to withdraw them from her mouth, inspecting them; he hadn’t told her to do it, but her mouth opened back up, remembering his command. “Not bad at all… Quite clean, all things considered… Tell me again what you want, sweet Bethany…”

“I want you to make me come,” she whispered, without hesitation this time, glad the piano was closed over the keys so she didn’t make a discordant sound as she leaned back, her hips thrusting up at him. “I want your fingers to move inside of me, and your thumb on my clit, and to come for you on this piano bench.”

His eyes flashed at her, and yet he indulged her request, thrusting harder into her slit, rubbing her clit more ardently. “For me?” he repeated softly against her skin.

Beth was moaning, barely coherent, spreading her knees wider where her ankles were bound at the legs of the piano bench, and she nodded. “Y-yes! I want to come for y-you, I want to please you…” She groaned for him desperately.

“Then be a good girl, sweet Bethany, and come for me.”

His order did the trick, and even with the blasting music in the other room, he pressed his mouth down onto hers to muffle her cry as she arched, as her entire body went taut, hips jerking. White heat flashed through her, burning at every nerve end, before her hips bucked a few more times, and she slumped against the piano behind her. She trembled, soaked and panting as his lips drew back from her own. Ciaran’s fingers lingered for a moment on her core, coaxing a few more jerks from her tender center, and then he drew back, smirking down at her as he stood, stroking her hair affectionately.

“Good girl, Bethany. You’ll be perfect.”

Bethany didn’t have the presence of mind to wonder what his words had meant, still coming down from the high of her arousal and quivering some as he untied her wrists from each other, and her ankles from the posts of the bench. Her eyes were glazed over as she looked up at him, accepting the flute of champagne without a sound and taking a long drink of it as he left her sitting there for just a moment. Ciaran returned with her dress from where it had been discarded at the statue, and after she was done taking a drink, he was calmly, silently assisting her in getting dressed again, her bra covering her breasts and her soaked panties hidden beneath her skirt. She was still blushing, though, even as she regained coherency, as she realized what exactly had just happened.

Ciaran stood before her quietly, and his fingers ghosted against her cheek for a minute before he reached into his pocket and withdrew his wallet. “As I said, I am very pleased with the desserts you provided, Miss Monroe,” he said at last, and Beth felt her throat constrict at the sudden formality in his voice. “Here is the tip I promised you.”

A fat stack of bills was put in her hands, and glancing at it quickly made it apparent he had given her at least seven hundred dollars; Beth swallowed, ignoring the desire to ask if she had done something wrong, that he had suddenly gone back to being the distant businessman. He had to be pleased with her to offer a tip this large, and… really, had she expected anything more than that? Well, what had happened was already more than she had expected, so anything more than that was just ridiculous to expect.

She took a deep breath and moved away from the piano a little bit. “Thank you, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she answered quietly, folding the bills small enough to fit them into the palm of her hand, so that no one else could so easily see them. Beth started to leave, to head back out to the party.

“Miss Monroe,” he stopped her. “As much as I would like to imagine you would enjoy the rest of your time at my party, would you like a car to take you home? I will see that your friend, Miss Sutton, is taken home safely as well, once she has exhausted herself.” So he had realized Kylie had come with her. But she stopped and looked back at him. There was a part of her that thought she should stick out the rest of the party so that her disappointment in how he’d reverted wasn’t as obvious, but…

“That would be great,” she decided with a sigh. “I’m really not used to things like this. My feet are killing me thanks to these heels.”

He chuckled slightly. “Of course. If you head downstairs, I’ll have a car brought around front. Thank you again for your fine work this evening.” Ciaran brushed past her, and Beth stood there for a minute, feeling a hand constrict tightly around her heart. Then, she was taking a deep breath and heading to the elevator—the service elevator again, instead of the main one. There might be still people coming and going in that one, and she didn’t feel like being harassed anymore tonight, not when she could still feel his hands and lips on her.

As soon as the doors to the elevator shut, it got much quieter, and she leaned her head back against the cool metal as the gears worked their way downward to the street. She couldn’t figure out why she was so disappointed. Ciaran was still basically just a stranger, and the fact that he had done something like that at all was something she would wonder as to the reality of. It had completely… blown her mind. But she could still feel the scarves that he had used to tie her up, and the slightest shifting of her hips made her blush a little to feel her wet panties rubbing at her slit. God, she didn’t know if she’d ever had an orgasm like that, regardless of the fact that she wasn’t a virgin. Sneaking it in the backseat of a high school guy’s beat-up car didn’t really have the same effect that that did.

Beth straightened when the elevator door opened, and exited the building out the side door she and Kylie had come through before. With how late it had gotten, she had still been inside for the better part of two hours once the party had actually started, which almost impressed her considering how out of place she had been. God, he had actually seemed to care that she was being bullied by those girls, but then he had just turned away from her like she was… nothing.

As promised, there was a car waiting for her at the front, the same driver from before, probably to make sure she was recognized, and he opened the door for her. Once he had climbed back into the driver’s seat, Beth rattled off her address and peeled off her heels, leaning into the seat and closing her eyes. Kylie would probably be at the party until the small hours of the morning, but she was already exhausted after just those couple of hours. It didn’t take too long to get to her apartment, and she thanked the driver as she climbed out. She hadn’t wanted to bring anything with her that she might lose, so she pressed a button to the front office and waved at the camera. Whoever was on duty buzzed her in upon recognizing her.

Barefoot, Bethany climbed three flights of stairs to her apartment and reached up onto the frame of the door for her key, unlocking the apartment and heading inside. Carelessly, she tossed aside her shoes as she flipped on a light and sighed at the place. Six hundred a month was very cheap in San Francisco, but up until, well, right this moment, she had gotten used to the tiny dining area being separated from her bedroom by a folding screen partition. Her clothes were overwhelming her closet, and the only part of the apartment that was actually wonderful was the relatively spacious kitchen. The bathroom was even smaller, with the toilet wedged right up against the tiny cubicle of a shower.

She rubbed her forehead as she closed all the windows and drew the curtains shut, plunging the tiny room into darkness, before heading into the bathroom. Painstakingly, she searched for all the pins Kylie had left in her hair, neatly setting them on the pedestal sink’s edge as the yellow light washed out her face, smeared with mascara and lipstick. A few minutes later, her dress similarly joined her shoes, discarded thoughtlessly on the floor, and was quickly accompanied by her panties and bra. Needing to sit down on the edge of her bed to get into her dresser, she pulled out her nightgown and a fresh pair of underwear and dressed again before yanking the covers of her bed back and pressing down into the blue sheets.

For a few long minutes, she stared upward as the streetlights filtered in past the top of her curtains to shine on the ceiling, occasionally disrupted by a shifting shadow. Car horns sounded off in the distance, and, aggravated, Beth rolled over onto her side, staring at her alarm clock. Kylie had been anticipating her staying there much later, so her shop was actually going to be closed all day; she didn’t have to set the damn thing. After a moment, though, she was reaching out and in annoyance flipping on the alarm for nine in the morning. Maybe that would convince her she was really tired and needed to go to bed.

She shifted back onto her back and closed her eyes. The moment she did, though, Ciaran’s gray eyes were looking down on her, and she clenched her jaw, opening her eyes again. No. No, no, no. Whatever that had been, it wasn’t anything. That much was… painfully obvious, but it
was
obvious. He didn’t want anything more to do with her, and she would never see him again. He had probably just wanted to make up for those girls who had been picking on her, and he had… done that with sex.

Her attempts to make herself angry over what had happened, though, just filled her with a sort of upset disappointment. Why had he done that when that was the last time he was going to see her? Why had he done any of that to her, this… baker he’d just met? Why had he tied her up and made her undress and then touched her in the most exquisite of ways…?

She drew in a ragged breath when she realized that the thoughts were making her hot again, and she swallowed hard. Beth sat up uncertainly, peering around her dark room, and raking her fingers through her black curls. For a moment, her eyes flickered to her laptop on top of her dresser, wondering if she should try to distract herself for a while. But instead she was climbing out of bed, plunging into her closet and trying to sort through the mess for a long moment. At last, she found a single scarf buried against one side and drew it out. It wasn’t as nice as the ones Ciaran had used, and she blushed to even be considering this.

She went back to her bed and set the scarf down on it, and then reached under the hem of her nightgown to pull her panties down her thighs, letting them fall to the floor. Beth climbed back onto her bed and proceeded to figure out how to tie up her wrists with the scarf, fumbling with it for a few minutes and then tightening the knot with her teeth. It was by no means perfect, the rough, puffed-out material a mess, and if she tried, she’d be able to break out of it in mere moments.

But she ignored that. Instead, she was lying back into her pillows and shutting her eyes. Ciaran’s face was hovering over her again, and she felt her breath picking up as she squirmed on her bed for a minute and then spread her legs wide. With her hands tied together, she rubbed at one of her breasts through her nightgown, until she could feel her nipple starting to harden, and his face in her head smirked down at her, enjoying watching her playing with herself. Her thighs spread wider, and her hands slid downward, over her stomach.

Delicately, her fingers brushed the insides of her thighs a little bit, making her shiver, before she found her slit, already growing wet before she’d so much as touched herself. Beth’s lips parted with a gasp as she rubbed her fingers between her lower lips, able to almost hear his voice ordering her to do it. To spread herself wide, to play with her clit… Every command, she obeyed, making herself wetter and wetter. Her hips bucked upward, and she moaned, sinking into her pillows.

Finally, he told her to put her fingers inside of herself. Beth didn’t hesitate, crying out softly as she plunged the soft digits in, thrusting against her core, feeling her wetness spill out across the sheets of her bed, her toes curling against the fabric. Releasing a stuttering moan, she stared up at Ciaran’s face in her head, silently, desperately begging him to let her…

“
Come
.” The order came and she gasped sharply, jerking, shuddering, and feeling her arousal gush around her fingers, staining the makeshift bond she had used. Breathing hard, Beth opened her eyes, alone in her apartment, and she moaned faintly.

Damnit. Why did that feel so amazing when she would never see him again?