I stare at his retreating back unable to grasp what just happened until Brandon turns sharply to repeat his order. “Follow me.”
The invisible forces keeping my feet rooted to the ground lets up, I nod and trail behind him like a diligent puppy ready to serve its master. Silence is my only companion as we go down the long stairs and onto the lone corridor, passing through doors I didn’t know of their existence. He stops without notice and I almost run into his solid back.
A string of apologies leaves me, I twiddle my fingers, bite the inside of my lips and sigh. Brandon shifts to the side, I take one look in front of him and understand why he stopped. Seconds go by as he works the key into the keyhole of the door and my heart picks up pace, beating hard against my ribcage. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, I swallow. This feels like an execution with me as the prisoner up for slaughter.
The door opens and a strong, minty smell hits my nostrils as we step in, I sneeze and swipe at my nose. Taking cautious steps as if afraid an animal will jump out from the shadows, I wrap my arms around myself, doing my best to keep the rising fear at bay. My jaw slacks when my eyes settle on the whips and chains hanging on the wall, I blink multiple times, trying to understand this, this dim-lit room he brought me to and why.
Brandon barely gives me time to study the room, he comes in front of me and I find myself moving away from him. “Strip.”
“W... what?”
“I will not repeat myself. Strip.”
He takes calculated steps towards the door, a switch goes off and neon lights flood the room. I squint and the breath is knocked out of me when my vision clears, my hands go to cover my mouth as I spare the room another glance, afraid for what might happen next.
The drapes covering most of the cream walls compliment the scarlet covering on the king-sized bed which screams attention and promises guilty pleasures. I swallow and lick my lips when my eyes come to rest on the items atop the table Brandon is standing in front of, the only things I can identify are the floggers and handcuffs.
A lump lodges in my throat, I nod feverishly and start for the door when he turns in my direction, causing my feet to come to an abrupt stop. The need to race out of the room grips me but Brandon’s gaze keeping me captive has my brain on a lockdown. I stand there and stare like a robot waiting for orders, fear written all over my face.
Cold sweat breaks out on my forehead, a shiver runs down my spine and panic sets in as he stalks towards me like a predator ready to bounce on its prey. I find myself edging backwards until my back hits the wall and I let out a small shriek at the contact. Clutching my jacket as if it will protect me from him, I look away when his eyes narrow to slits, focused on steadying my trembling hands. He won’t hurt me, I try to remind myself, he might be upset but he is still my Brandon, my husband. He won’t hurt me.
“Strip.”
My kimono drops to my feet with insane speed, my spaghetti strap gown joins it shortly. His eyes darken as they zero in on my underwear, I gulp and take it off, standing naked in front of him. My hands move over my breasts but the look he sends me has my arms falling back to my sides, I swallow the lump in my throat and grimace, I should have ignored Josh’s call. That has to be the reason he is doing this, right? Why else?
“I’m sorry.” Unsure why I’m begging him, I take a step forward and say, “I’m sorry.”
“You will be by the time we are done,” he whispers, making sure to step away from my reach. “Use your safe word if you want me to stop.” I nod in reply, still confused.
The missing pieces start to fall in the right places as Brandon walks to a table with whips and I nod again, grasping the situation. This. This is my initiation into the BDSM world as his sub. The weight on my shoulders chips off as I start to comprehend this, the initial fear turns into something else, a mix of apprehension and excitement. I want to know what sex in his world is like, see how far or extreme he will take it with me.
YOU ARE READING
Mr Reluctant Billionaire || BWWM
Romance"I cannot love you, Elna." Grinding my waist against his groin, I cup his face and say, "Then fuck me." * * * When Elna's father first suggests an arranged marriage between her and Brandon Stark--the hot British billionaire--she is reluctant to go...