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Home / Stormy Night Publications Newsletter / Bound by His Command: A Dark Billionaire Romance by Piper Stone – Extended Preview

Bound by His Command: A Dark Billionaire Romance by Piper Stone – Extended Preview

I was going to burn in hell.

I’d just made a deal with the devil himself, a man who truly believed he was a king. I was shocked that I’d agreed, but what choice did I have? He’d hunt me down just like Aleksandr would.

Or had.

However, Christopher wouldn’t break me. I refused to allow that to happen. I’d leave here tonight with my head held high and never return.

Then what?

I’d cower in my house until one or both of them found me? The odds weren’t in my favor, but I was locked into my situation, at least for the time being. I had a house that I adored and a job that needed me and a few friends and…

I studied Christopher, his stance completely that of a predator. He was staring at the three vile-looking apparatuses in the room, likely sizing up which one to use to dole out the harshest punishment. Maybe I deserved it, given the words I’d tossed in his direction. He’d been my boss after all. What was I doing? Playing with fire. The answer was easy, the consequences not something I longed to face.

Then why is your pussy tingling? Why is your heart racing?

The questions weren’t ones I could answer. Maybe I simply didn’t want to face some kind of crazy reality.

“I suggest you also learn that I am not a patient man. Undress or I will rip off your clothes.”

“You are a real asshole, Christopher.” The words rushed from my mouth just like the others and the look he gave me was intense. However, I no longer felt as if formalities were needed, although I had a feeling that he’d require me to call him ‘sir’ or even ‘Master.’ Unable to take his stern glare, I shifted away from him, my hands numb as I attempted to remove my coat. A cold wave skittered through every muscle and tendon, my entire body aching. What I hated more than anything was that I was still attracted to him.

His chiseled face.

His dominating force.

His demanding ways.

A part of me loathed the various emotions rolling through me as well. Anger. Frustration. Longing. Even the way my body betrayed me, my nipples hard as little pebbles, was infuriating. I’d refused to date a single man who’d appeared controlling in any way. Maybe I was afraid of my reactions all along, fearful that I’d revert to the girl from so long ago, one far too naïve for her own good.

Whatever the case, I was in boiling water, already scalded. I had no other recourse but to shove my mind into another place for the remainder of the night. After that, I would figure out what or if I could do anything to resolve this. With any luck, Aleksandr would forget all about the experience, slithering back to whatever city he resided in. I could only pray he wasn’t living in DC.

A bitter laugh erupted from my throat, the sound difficult to mask. If the magnificent man heard me, there was no indication.

“You can put your things over there.”

His voice boomed into the expansive room, the husky sound both thrilling as well as deprecating. He wanted to control every aspect of the night, assuming that I wouldn’t fight him any longer. The arrogant asshole had another think coming. If he wanted me to speak my mind, I was going to continue doing it.

I closed my eyes as I eased one strap of the simple gown from my shoulder then the other, slowly slinking the silky frock to the floor. As I folded the costume, placing it over my coat, I had the distinct feeling that he was watching me.

Hungering for me.

Preparing to devour me.

I took a deep breath before removing the rest of my clothes, embarrassment riding over me. The man was testing my resolve in his attempt to find out the truth. I had to wonder what secrets he was hiding, why his hatred of the swaggering Russian was significant. Maybe if I had something important to tell him, then my life could go back to normal.

Whatever that was.

“Come, Willow. It’s time,” Christopher said in a softer voice than I’d heard so far.

I shifted around to face him, cognizant of how enlarged my nipples seemed and how wet I was between my legs. Wanting any of this was the mark of an insane woman, not one who’d spent her entire life in an organized and pragmatic fashion.

In his hand was a strap of some kind, the thick-looking piece of leather formidable. He smacked it against his palm several times, the slapping sound creating goosebumps dancing along my naked skin. I was sick to my stomach, the butterflies, having formed claws and fangs, eating at my insides. My head ached, my mind reeling from worry that I couldn’t handle the pain.

Or his control.

I sucked up my anxiety and walked closer, staring him directly in his eyes. He stood next to a spanking bench, the wooden and leather horse larger than life. I’d stood in this very room only two weeks before, watching one of the members spanking a guest the pompous man had brought for the night. I’d winced every time the paddle he’d selected had been smacked down against the submissive’s naked backside.

I’d also been excited at the sight, unable to take my eyes off the event the entire time.

I could no longer feel my legs as I managed to walk closer, holding my arms in front of me the entire time. Did I honestly think my stance would curtail the extreme embarrassment or his burning gaze roaming the length of my naked body?

“Should I open the door, allowing guests to come inside?” Christopher posed the question as if I had some kind of choice in the matter. I knew better.

Another warm flush swept up from my neck, sliding over my jaw to my cheeks. Wasn’t I already humiliated enough?

At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to find somewhere to hide, but I was caught by the gleam in his eyes, a knowing that was different than before. His hunger knew no bounds, but it was his possessiveness that caught me by surprise. He’d already brought me into his world, claiming me as one of his expensive trinkets to play with at will. I should be sickened at the thought, but my pussy muscles clenched and released several times.

Another damn betrayal.

Another realization that I was a sick woman.

What was next, a cage to keep me in?

I shoved the thoughts aside, wishing I could fly away to anywhere. Another laugh threatened to bubble to the surface. I was nervous as a kitty cat.

When I was within inches of him, I could see the heavy rise and fall of his chest, his long and lean body looking even more rugged than before. He’d even removed his tie, unbuttoning far enough down that I was able to catch a glimpse of his sculpted chest. I forced myself to look away, fear of humiliating myself even more looming large.

He slipped a single finger back and forth across my cheek, forcing my head to turn as he loomed over me. “Do not turn away from me ever, sweet Willow. While I command respect, I want you to see everything that’s about to occur at all times. I may be a bastard, or what some would call a monster, but I refuse to treat you like anything but what you deserve.”

“And what is that, a toy? Your pet?”

Laughing softly, the husky sound filtered down from my neck to my legs, slithering all the way around my hips and breasts. My mouth was suddenly dry, my throat clamping down, making it difficult to swallow.

“I do enjoy how you speak your mind. You are much more than a pet, Willow. You are a vibrant and eloquent woman, one who will surrender without hesitation one day.”

Dream on, buddy.

I ignored the thought, my jaw clenching as he traced a circle around my lips. Every cell was on fire from his gentle touch, my heart racing to the point I could hear echoes in my ears. When he forced my lips to part, sliding the tip of his finger inside, my instincts were to bite it off, but I resisted. He was testing me more than anything, trying to find out if I would break from pleasure or pain first.

Neither.

He had no understanding of the utter anguish that ballerinas experienced almost every day, lingering effects lasting for several years. I could handle anything he had to dish out. I darted my tongue across his skin on purpose, trying to unnerve him. Instead, the taste of his finger only fueled the building desire. I was sickened at the thought but drawn in by his seductive mannerisms. When I was allowed to ease away, the look on his face reeked of utter possession.

He gripped my face, pulling me within inches of his heaving chest, shaking his head slightly. “You are dangerous in your own right, sweet angel.”

I glared at him defiantly, unable to take my eyes off his shimmering pools of darkness.

Within seconds, he was breathing raggedly, his nostrils flaring. Even his pupils seemed dilated. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck, yanking me onto my toes. I was teetering on the edge of sanity, my core pulsing. He lowered his head until our lips were almost touching, drawing a line in the sand between us. This was all about his need for complete dominance, his refusal to allow my rebellion to continue.

When he kissed me, the warmth of his lips was startling. I slammed my hands against his chest, doing everything I could to shut down the immediate effects of his advances soaring in my body, but as with everything else about him, he was far too powerful. I succumbed as his lips pushed apart mine, his tongue easily finding the dark recesses of my mouth. That was when I melted into him, my fingers wrapping around the soft material of his shirt as the kiss turned into a passionate roar, the kind of ragged intimacy that few couples ever experience.

He dominated my tongue, swirling his back and forth. Then he trailed a line of rough kisses along my jaw as I clung to him, longing to feel his hot lips scalding every inch of my skin.

That’s the very second that he resumed control, something I doubted he would relinquish again. “You are a tease and I will thoroughly enjoy tasting you, but it’s time for your punishment. Pain before pleasure, and only if you’re a very good girl.”

Good girl? What the hell did he actually think he was going to accomplish?

As he tossed me over the bench, kicking out my legs, I was forced to take several shallow breaths. Every inch of my body was shaking as he took his time securing my ankles, dragging my legs further apart. The feel of thick leather wrapping around my bare skin was horrific, the tug as he clasped one buckle then the other disturbing. I was so exposed, so open to him.

A stranger.

A monster.

And he was obviously enjoying himself, humming as he tickled the inside of my leg with his fingers before taking deliberate steps toward the front of the apparatus. “You will learn to obey me, sweet Willow. You will also learn the importance of trust. I need to trust you. What you say. How you act. Only then can we enjoy the bounty of our experience together, my beautiful angel.”

My God, the fucker was being philosophical? I couldn’t stand the thought of being his angel or anything else, no matter the attraction. I closed my eyes as he tugged on one arm, still humming some melodic tune as he secured my wrist. When I was finally locked down in place, he fisted my hair, yanking my head as he leaned over, his whisper sultry and overwhelming. He was so masculine, defined and particular with his words. I could feel the power emanating from every aspect of his being.

“You will learn that my command is the only thing that matters.”

Arrogant.

Possessive.

Confident.

I hated every aspect of his words, the edge to them what I would remember the most. And the certainty.

This time, I bit back a retort, fisting my hands as he pressed a single kiss against the side of my face. He gently let go, pushing my head onto the head support then trailing his fingers down my spine. Every inch of my body was so alive, the electricity soaring through every cell and muscle. The man is a pig. The man is an asshole.

Even as I attempted to believe my own thoughts, I couldn’t fight the inevitable attraction. When I felt the strap sliding down the same trail where his fingers had left a series of tingles, I bristled, trying desperately to curtail a moan.

But as before, I failed.

I sensed his hunger just underneath his perfectly tailored surface, as if a beast had been lying in wait, famished for a taste of the forbidden. He’d called me innocent. Maybe that’s what he’d been searching for his entire life.

The first hard crack against my backside wasn’t something that I could prepare for. The harshness of the sting wasn’t something anyone could prepare for or fathom. The sensations boiling over me set my skin on fire while dangling a carrot of pleasure at the same time. While my body tensed, my toes curling, my pulse raced for an entirely different reason than anguish.

I felt exhilarated.

God help me.

The second strike brought an entirely different rush, both physically and emotionally.

Panic.

There was nothing more that I wanted to do than run away, far from his devilish good looks and demanding ways. But I was caught in a trap, lured by his musky scent and deep baritone that had evoked so many vile thoughts. I concentrated on the whooshing sound, trying desperately to shove my mind into distant places as he brought the strap down several times in rapid succession. But it was no use. I was caught in the moment, struggling with the thick bindings that held me in place.

Everything seemed larger than life.

The squeak of the leather from the cuffs.

The scent of the powerful man wielding the implement.

The sound of the light music playing in the background.

Acceptance at Club Darkness should have come with a warning, a simple glance into the future. There should also be hazard pay for dealing with a man as lethal and dangerous as Christopher. As the pain continued to explode throughout my body, I heard him whisper another series of words that made no sense.

“You are exactly what I need. My perfect angel. My complete salvation.”

What the hell? Was he freaking kidding me?

Another four strikes were given, two hitting my upper thighs. Adrenaline pulsed into every vein much like the juice from my pussy had slickened my thighs, likely staining the slick wooden surface. The notion almost brought a smile to my face.

But the anguish continued.

Strike. After. Strike.

I wasn’t prepared for another caress of his hand, his fingers moving gingerly over my aching bottom, sliding up and down the crack of my ass.

“Do you understand why I’m punishing you?” Christopher asked, as if my answer was going to change anything.

“Because…” Dear God, my voice was shaky, almost unrecognizable. Swallow. Breathe. Swallow. Breathe. “Because I defied you.”

His chuckle was far too enticing. Damn him.

“While no one goes against the rules without learning the consequences, I’m spanking you because it’s what you want.”

I realized I had no real answer to his claim, could barely think clearly. “No…”

“No? You’re going to learn that lying to me isn’t in your best interest.”

He smacked me again, bringing the strap down on my sit spot. I jerked up, gasping for air.

“I’m not lying.”

The words sounded so damn hollow, haunted. The thrum of my pussy was infuriating, the scent of my ridiculous desires wafting into the air as if he was right. Damn him. Damn this entire situation. I’d worked so hard to become a nobody, going about every day in a methodical manner, saving my money and pretending that I didn’t need anything.

Or anyone.

Then he’d captured me. Not in a cage, at least not yet, but with his stunning good looks and suave mannerisms. Any girl could get lost in such darkness. Right?

“Ten more. You’re doing very well.”

Christopher issued the words so damn casually, as if this was just another day at the office. Did he have a string of women on the side, submissives who craved fulfilling his sadistic needs? The thought evoked curiosity as well as something else.

Jealousy.

Really?

Could I really give a shit whether he did this with other women?

“Count them off for me,” he commanded, driving another wave of sweltering heat crisscrossing my body.

Crack!

“One,” I struggled to say, fisting and flexing my fingers.

He delivered two more then waited.

Goddamn him.

“Two and three.”

“I require respect.”

Was he freaking kidding me?

I didn’t have time to argue or even think about his demands as he smacked me twice more. “Fine. Four and five. Sir.”

His deep exhale highlighted his disapproval, the next strike even harder than the one before.

“Six… sir.” My tone had shifted, the sound entirely different.

He slid his finger along the inside of my thigh, pulsing the tip of one across my slickened folds. “You are very wet, my sweet angel.”

No. No.

The next hard crack was unimaginable, the burn inside now a booming firestorm. I reeled from the anguish and the second the damn asshole slipped his fingers inside my tight channel, there was no possible way of stopping the ragged series of whimpers escaping my mouth. I bucked hard, gasping for air, barely able to follow his command. “Seven… sir.”

“With every moment of raw pleasure there is inevitable pain, which only intensifies the experience.”

His words lingered in my mind as he issued the last three in rapid succession.

“Eight. Nine. Ten. Sir.” I was exhausted, no longer able to feel my legs. Nothing made sense any longer. Not the thoughts running through my mind. Not the sensations wrapping around my extremities. And not the desire that remained. Another set of claws digging into me. Another catastrophic wave of sensations.

The sound of the strap being tossed to the floor was cathartic, allowing a beautiful moment of freedom to float through me. But I knew he wasn’t finished. He’d make good on his… promise.

Every synapse on fire, he brushed his hands up from my calves, rolling his thumbs back and forth across my bruised skin. The anticipation was killing me, my mind reeling from what he would likely do. I wanted to beg him to stop, although there was nothing that had prepared me for the tingling still remaining.

When I heard the rustle of his clothing—a belt buckle being unfastened, a zipper releasing his throbbing cock—I struggled to catch a glimpse of him. I wanted to witness the atrocities he was doing to me, to see the hardness I’d felt pushed against me. Yet I only caught a glimpse of his profile, the sternness that remained on his face. Shuddering, I held my breath as he stroked my bottom, sliding his finger ever so slowly down the crack of my ass.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you, sweet angel, taking what belongs to me.”

The same finger whispered around my asshole, daring to dart just inside. My entire body clenched, my muscles so tense they almost cramped. When he pushed the tip of his cock against my wetness, I was tossed into another surreal moment. Bliss. Ecstasy. I couldn’t stop panting.

Couldn’t stop wanting.

The need was almost desperate, my hips bucking as much as the tight confines would allow. I was no longer embarrassed at the wetness of my pussy, only humiliated that I’d surrendered in some crazy way. To him. Him. I didn’t even want to think of his name any longer.

“Now I’m going to fuck that pretty pink pussy of yours.”

Everything out of his mouth was said with purpose, but so damn casual I wanted to rake my nails down his back. Right. As if that would bother him in the least. I imagined he was used to the behavior of a difficult submissive, prepared for a rough and tumble kind of woman, allowing his sadistic side to feel vindicated.

No foreplay.

No romance.

Just taking what he wanted.

Christopher wasted no time, pushing the tip of his cock past my swollen folds.

“Fuck. You’re so wet,” he muttered as he gripped my hips, digging his nails into my skin.

Oh. Oh. Oh. I wanted to scream, but the sound was caught in my throat as various sensations seared every nerve ending. I was lightheaded as he pulled out, biting my lower lip to keep from begging. Begging! Jesus. What had I been reduced to?

A growl left his sensuous lips seconds before he thrust the entire length of his cock inside, the force unbelievable. When he pulled out again, several strangled moans erupted from my throat. “Oh, God. Oh…”

“That’s it, angel. Moan for me. I want to hear your cry out my name.”

Over my dead body.

“Fuck you.”

“My beautiful, defiant angel. One day, you will be mine, but your spirit will never be broken.”

As he pounded into me, his guttural sounds drowning out my ragged moans, stars floated in front of my eyes. My muscles strained to accept the brutal fucking, his cock filling me so completely.

He was relentless in his actions, growling savagely like the true beast of a man that he’d become. I was locked in this nightmarish moment, unable to think or even focus. Everything became a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, images parading in the back of my mind like some ridiculous movie. This wasn’t real life. This couldn’t be happening.

But I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I was forced to deal with the devil.

In another round of utter embarrassment, my body responded to his brutal actions, my pussy clenching and releasing. Clenching. Releasing. I could feel him sliding even deeper inside as I did everything I could to avoid accepting the extreme pleasure.

But I became lost, the rapture unlike anything that I’d ever experienced, joy and revelations so damn powerful that when I opened my mouth to scream, there was only silence.

Sweet, maddening silence.

The climaxes were raw, insanely delicious, one turning into a mind-bending second.

Then a third.

How could anything so filthy feel this damn good? His growls became even more animalistic, his fingertips branding me just like the strap had done earlier. He became more aggressive, thrusting harder and faster, as if fucking me was his life’s blood. I was catapulted into another round of rapture, vivid streams of light showering over my periphery of vision.

“You are mine, sweet angel. Mine.” His growl was just as savage as before, the tone guttural.

And for some crazy reason, I knew I’d never be able to get away from him.

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