At His Desire: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 7 Read Free

head.
    “Can
you see anything?”
    “No,
Sir.”
    I
felt him near me, but my world was now as black as pitch. The blindfold molded
itself to the contours of my face, sealing out all light. He snapped his
fingers an inch away from my ear, and I jumped with a little shriek.
    “Good
girl. I think you’ll agree, it’s more fun if you’re honest with me...”
    Hands
caressed me through my dress, teasing as they ran down my ribcage, stopping
just before squeezing my breasts.
    “Hold
your arms out at your sides and lie back, little slave.”
    I
let him gently push me down until my head hit the pillow and both arms were
stretched out like a cross. I heard a rustling near my head, but held still,
waiting with bated breath to discover what my master had planned for me.
Something silky wrapped around my wrist, then tightened, stretching my arm out.
I heard soft footfalls on the carpet, and then my other wrist was being bound,
tied in place with something strong but soft. One of his neckties, maybe? I
gave an inquisitive yank, but I was held firm to the bedposts, helpless to
escape.
    “Now,
you’re mine to do with as I please. The question is... what am I going to do
first?”
    His
low chuckle sent shivers down my spine.
    There
was silence for a few endless moments, stretching out until I couldn’t stand
it. I strained to hear him, to figure out where he was. I pictured him staring
at me, bound beneath him, plotting how he could drive me crazy.
    I
heard a rasping noise from the edge of the bed, like metal sliding over metal,
and my body tensed.
    “Let’s
get these clothes off you. I want to see that beautiful body of yours.”
    Something
cool and hard grazed the inside of my thigh, and I sucked in a breath, pulling
at my bonds. Fear sliced through me, irrational but so real it was palpable.
What was he doing?
    “Shhh,
little slave. Hold still.”
    There
was a sharp, metallic snip , and I felt the material of my dress give way, the satin sliding
down my leg.
    Oh, God. He’s going to cut my clothes
off. Picturing
large metal shears anywhere near my naked body sent pins and needles running
through me. But if I trusted anyone with my safety, it was my Mr. Drake. I held
as still as I could, trying not to freak out.
    I
whimpered as he dragged the blade of the scissors upward, teasing me, before
slicing through more of my dress. My nerves felt like they were on fire as the
metal moved upward, the cold steel tickling as it moved toward my panties. Arousal
warred with anxiety as the snip, snip, snip moved closer.
    My
breathing was ragged by the time I felt the scissors’ edge work beneath the
thin lace. The metal moved slowly, oh-so-carefully, working its way beneath the
crotch until I felt the dull edge caress my lower lips.
    “Oh,
God...” I said, my voice high and strained.
    One
slice, and the fabric fell away. I realized then I’d been holding my breath,
and let it out slowly.
    “You
naughty thing,” Mr. Drake said, his voice a low rumble. “You’re soaking wet
already.”
    The
scissors snapped down, and one side of my panties ripped apart beneath the
blades, then the other. The top half fell away, and the scissors moved upward,
caressing my stomach and making me gasp.
    I
felt my dress shredding open, the sound of the satin parting whispering in the
darkness. I tried not to move, but my chest heaved with each breath. When the
scissors reached the place between my breasts, they stopped. I knew Mr. Drake
must be enjoying this, watching me tremble beneath him. The thought made me
wish I could take off the blindfold and end this game, but another enjoyed the
sweet torture far too much to stop.
    The
scissor blades snapped together, and the rest of the dress fell apart, exposing
my bare breasts, for I hadn’t worn a bra tonight. I felt my nipples draw tight
under the stare I couldn’t see, but could feel with every piece of my being.
    I
was his.
    There
was another sound of movement, and I felt him draw back. The carpet