Punished - A Dark Billionaire Romance

“Relationship?” I ask. “Sorry,” I say quickly, realizing I’ve interrupted him.

“No need to apologize. I want to make sure you’re extremely clear about the terms of our arrangement before we take it further. Yes. This is a relationship of sorts. It will be more intense than any relationship you’ve previously been in. It will be more inclusive, more intimate. It will be more. When we’re together, you will be mine. Heart, body, and soul. You will do as I say when I say it. You will place complete trust in me and know that my desire is to explore the limits of your fantasies, but not to push you beyond those limits. After today I’ll have a document drafted for you to sign so that I can have a better idea of your hard and soft limits. Beyond that, our relationship will be based entirely on trust.”

I frown. “This feels so formal.” Some of the sexual excitement has drained from me, even though there’s still a faint throb in my core. What he proposes sounds so different than anything I’ve ever imagined. I’m overcome by a powerful sense of curiosity and tentative excitement, but it also scares me. It sounds like he could hurt me if he took advantage of my trust, just like Ronnie hurts my mom.

He stands motionless, looming like an angry god while he waits for my response. Trust… The word keeps repeating in my thoughts. A relationship completely built on trust? I want to agree to it. I’m drawn to the idea, even as I know there’s no way I could completely trust someone else. My life has been a long, never-ending line of betrayals. Trust only leads to pain, and I’m not here for more pain. I’m here for the money, and I’m here for the chance to experience something I’ve been missing my entire life. If I have to tell him what he wants to hear to get that, I’m not proud of it, but I’ll do it. I just have to hope that trust comes with time, because I can’t stand the thought of watching Logan walk away. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“I trust you,” I say.

The smile that slowly spreads his lips is not kind. It’s full of promise and darkness, and I’m ashamed by how much that thrills me.

“Get on the bed. Lie on your back,” he says. His voice is hard. Emotionless.

I step toward the bed a little hesitantly.

“Stop.”

I freeze.

“Take off your clothes and your bra, but leave your panties on.”

I swallow, closing my eyes to gather the courage to do this. It’s not hard though. My body has never felt like this. I can practically feel every nerve tingling with the expectation of his touch. My core feels like a void and the only thing that will bring me satisfaction right now is to have his thick cock plunged inside me.

I do as he says, stripping my clothes off quickly at first and then realizing he probably expected me to undress sexily. I force myself to slow, unhooking my bra as seductively as I can while I peek over my shoulder to see if he’s watching. I catch his eyes and the way they are roaming my body, taking me in. And I catch the outline of his cock against his expensive slacks. I let my bra fall to the floor and step out of the dress pooled at my feet, climbing on the bed.

“Shoes,” he says.

I kick them off and wait, sprawled out and completely exposed as he approaches. I’m self-conscious of the wet spot on my panties, but when he runs a hand down the length of my body, seeming to cherish every last inch of my skin, lingering on my wet panties, I know I don’t need to be self-conscious. I feel like a prize, laid out like something precious and valuable. It’s the way he looks at me and touches me. It’s impossible not to feel special when his attention is focused on me.

“I will give you the orgasm you want, but I have to punish you first. You made me come find you. I expect you to find me. Do you understand?”

I nod my head, eager for him to do whatever he’s going to, as long as it ends with him inside me.

He moves to the rack of toys, running a hand along them and watching me as he does, likely judging my reactions to see which tool I would prefer him to use. I flinch a little when he moves past a three-tailed whip. I only have a hazy idea of what I really want sexually, but I get the impression Logan has an even better idea than I do about what would bring me the most pleasure.

He reaches the leather paddle and I bite my lip, remembering when he punished me last week. I still remember how I held on to the slight tenderness in my ass the following day and loved it every time because it was a reminder of what transpired between us.