I cried out when the ice cube touched my nipple.
Mr. Drake circled it gently as I mewled beneath him, and I could practically hear him smiling. He lifted it away, and I felt his cool breath blowing on my bud, making it tighten, and my pu**y tingle in response. He trailed the ice across the other, then brought it up to run across my lips. I opened my mouth, and he teased me with it, letting me suck it a little before taking it away and running it down the curve of my throat. I shivered.
When he traced the line of my belly, I was squirming beneath him, the cold stinging me, but the anticipation, the wanting, the cruelest thing of all. I bit my lip when the ice touched the sensitive bud between my legs, and tried not to scream as he began moving it in small, deliberate circles.
“Please...” I whimpered.
He held the ice still, making me burn beneath him. “Please, what?”
“Please, Sir,” I breathed. “Please, Sir!”
He laughed, the sound making me arch into his touch. The ice moved lower, tracing my folds, making me writhe on the bedsheets.
“Do you want my c**k now, little slave?”
“Yes! Oh, God, please... Yes, Sir...”
The ice lifted off my aching sex. I heard the sound of a buckle and lifted my hips, searching for him with my body. A hand on my stomach pressed me back down, pinning me onto the bed. Then, he was pushing my legs apart, spreading me open, and I felt the weight of him lower onto me. I cried out wordlessly, wanting him inside of me, wanting him to f**k me already, instead of leaving me needy and burning beneath him. I yanked on my restraints, straining toward him, but couldn’t budge, the silk tightening against my wrists.
He pressed into me, aligning himself carefully. Then, his c**k rammed into me in one sure stroke, and I screamed, my head slapping back against the pillow. I squeezed his h*ps with my thighs, wanting to be closer to him, to hold him, even as he ground into me, his pubic hair tickling my clit.
“I love how much you want me,” he said, pulling out slowly, before thrusting home once again.
I bucked up to meet him, my body humming, every cell was alive, every nerve firing. His lips captured mine, his kiss taking my breathe away. He stroked into me, and I moaned into him, his tongue matching the rhythm of our lovemaking.
He gripped my ass, lifting my h*ps off the bed so he could hit me even deeper, pulling me to him with each thrust. My toes curled, gripping at the sheets as my wrists strained above me. I suckled on his tongue, wanting all of him, wanting as much as he would give me, my lower lips squeezing him as we collided together again and again.
“Cum for me, Isabeau...”
He gathered me in his arms, my back lifting off the bed as he supported me. I gasped against his lips, feeling him in every part of me as my pleasure crested. I came as he commanded, convulsing around him as he held me close. He groaned, too, and I felt him inside of me, filling me up, sharing my joy as we both found completion.
We lay there a long while, him holding me, bodies still joined, our sweat mingling between us. When he finally pulled away and untied me, he left the blindfold on. He lay beside me, and I curled onto his chest, the darkness making me feel safe and warm. Maybe that was why I had the courage to ask what I did.
“Why me?”
It was the question that had nagged me from the start.
“Why am I so different?”
Silence fell, except for the sound of our breathing and the beating of my own heart, loud in my ears. Then, he spoke.
“Because you see me as a man.”
I wrinkled my forehead, his meaning escaping me.
“Not as a CEO or a boss or a wallet full of money... You see me for what I am, Isa. Just a man. Just Chase Drake... And I love you for that.”
I pulled the blindfold off, letting it tangle in my hair. He was staring at the ceiling, his jaw set. I touched his face, turning his gaze to mine. I leaned up and kissed him softly, my lips brushing over his.
“I love you, too.”
We didn’t say another word that night, lying in one another’s arms until sleep finally claimed us both. We didn’t have to.
***
The next day moved at a break-neck pace.
Mimosas and morning golf soon segued into horseback riding for the ladies and Scotch and cigars for the men. Presentations to the well-lubricated and entertained board members went off without a hitch. Meetings transitioned into massages at the hotel spa, then h’ors d’oeuvres and cocktails by the pool.
By the time evening came, I was exhausted, tipsy, and aching for the weekend to be over and life to get back to normal, but there was still one more event before I could crash onto Mr. Drake’s bed and let my exhaustion take over. There was a high stakes poker game tonight that Mr. Drake said would seal the deal with the investors.
Apparently if there’s one thing rich men love more than drinking, it’s gambling grotesque amounts of money. All of the most important people would be there, and I was to be on the boss’ arm, at least for a hand or two. Then, I could make my escape, and wait for him under the covers.
Mr. Drake was already in his tux when I emerged from the bathroom in my short, black cocktail dress. He gave the lock charm on my choker a gentle tug, and kissed me.
“Aren’t you going to wish me luck?”
“Do you need it?” I raised an eyebrow at him, and grinned.
We walked arm in arm to a private room in the back of the casino that looked like something out of a spy movie. Lex Smith sat at the table sharing a laugh with a pasty older man over some off-color joke. I hesitated, but Mr. Drake urged me toward the table. I took my seat next to him, but kept my eyes averted. The last thing I wanted was to do was gain Lex’s attention again.
Wives and girlfriends came in, chatting together as the cards were dealt, some hanging back at the bar, and a couple joining in on the wagering.
I was only half paying attention when Mr. Drake slid a small pile of chips forward.
“I’ll raise you to twenty five.”
Lex was one of the two who hadn’t folded yet. His eyes bored into Mr. Drake’s as they stared one another down. Mr. Drake leaned back, and traced his bottom lip casually with one finger, looking as cool as ice.
“Do you call?”
“Come on, Lex. You can’t let him beat you in the first hand,” the fat man next to him said. He laughed, the sound ending with a guttural hack.
Lex shot him a dark look before pushing his own chips forward. “Fine. I’ll call.”
The other man folded, shaking his head.
“Show them,” Lex said, leaning in.
Mr. Drake laid down his hand. Three of a kind. Kings. Lex swore under his breath. He only had a pair of nines.