Dare Me: A Dark Billionaire Romance (5 page)

“Yes—yes, Sir,” she gasped, arching on the bed, tugging mindlessly at the bindings on her wrist. She felt like an animal—as if everything in her mind had dissolved away except for the need to obey Harper’s command, and her desperate the need for relief. Jasmine lost all track of time, all ability to think as Harper teased her, withdrawing all stimulation at the very moment when she thought all control was on the verge of deserting her.

Harper finally withdrew the vibrators, leaving Jasmine shivering and needy, writhing on the bed. Her pussy was soaking wet, her whole body tingling. Jasmine gasped and panted, trembling as she reeled. Just as she began to calm, she felt Harper slip down between her legs, his fingertips grazing her. Jasmine’s breath caught in her throat as she felt his hot breath brushing against her drenched folds. Harper gently spread her labia and buried his face against her pussy, licking and sucking, and Jasmine cried out, her back writhing up off of the bed.

She clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into her skin while her hips moved instinctively. Harper slid his tongue up and down, barely swiping the tip against her clit before moving down to her slick inner labia. Jasmine moaned out over and over again, struggling to keep herself under control, fighting to keep from reaching orgasm as Harper worshipped her with lips and tongue. “Please, Sir—please!” the words ripped out of Jasmine’s throat as she struggled, reaching down with her bound hands to grab instinctively at Harper’s head. Harper pulled back, looking up at her with his blue eyes dark with lust. He moved her hands away, pinning them against her abdomen.

The next moment Harper buried his mouth against her once more, licking and sucking, bringing the tip of his tongue against her clit to swirl and flicker against the bead of nerves. Jasmine cried out, gasping and panting, as she struggled to maintain control against the rising tide of her orgasm. Jasmine was somehow certain that if she couldn’t come—if Harper didn’t give her permission—that she would die. Pleas flew from her lips with every moment as she fought to keep control, and Harper continued to torment her.

Just when she thought that she couldn’t possibly hold back any longer, that she would climax even without permission, Harper pulled back again. “I think that is enough torture for now, don’t you think?” Harper asked her, licking his lips. Jasmine nodded, unable to speak for a moment.

“Y-yes, Sir. Yes, it is.” Harper chuckled and Jasmine watched as he stripped off the remains of his tuxedo, slowly revealing a strong, muscular body. She trembled—even without being on the edge of orgasm, she would have been almost too attracted to him to bear. Harper’s broad, hard chest was speckled with dark blond hair, his arms lightly furred with it up to the elbow. As he stripped his underwear off, his cock sprung free, fully hard and larger than she had even fantasized. Jasmine drank in the sight of him for a moment, and Harper seemed to enjoy her gaze as her quickly rolled on a condom.

Seconds later, he descended upon her, covering her body with his own. Jasmine shivered as she felt Harper’s cock brush against her slick folds; he rocked his hips against hers, rubbing his length along her labia, the tip barely brushing against her clit. “Beg me to fuck you, Jasmine,” he murmured lowly in her ear. Jasmine trembled, biting her bottom lip; she didn’t want to beg—but the feeling of Harper’s thick, hard cock rubbing against her steadily, with every movement of his hips, made it nearly impossible for her to resist. “Come on, Jasmine,” Harper murmured again, his voice wheedling.

“Please, Sir,” Jasmine cried out, pushing her hips down, struggling to force him to take her. “Please fuck me, Sir. Please, please—please fuck me until I come.” Harper chuckled lowly.

“I’ll fuck you until I feel like allowing you to come,” he told her, shifting his hips against her. He thrust into her slowly, filling her up inch by inch, and Jasmine moaned out loud. She gasped as he began to move inside of her, pushing past the resistance of her body. Harper rocked his hips, rubbing all along her inner walls. Jasmine threw her head back, eyes closing, hands pulling at the silk ropes that tied her wrists together. She pushed her hips down to meet his thrusts, twisting and writhing underneath him, and Jasmine could feel her pleasure building up, becoming more and more intense by the moment. Jasmine bit her bottom lip and clenched her teeth, struggling against the silk ropes binding her wrists together. She wanted—needed—so badly to be able to come, as Harper pushed deeper and deeper inside of her, every other thrust of his hips bringing the tip of his cock up against her g-spot.

Jasmine whimpered and moaned, twisting her hips as she fell into rhythm with Harper’s thrusts, taking him deeper and deeper. “Please, Sir,” Jasmine cried out, her whole body tingling, hot and cold flashes of pleasure crackling through her nerves. “Please let me come—please. Please.” Harper thrust harder and faster into her, rubbing up against her g-spot steadily. “Please! Please! I need to come—I want it so badly! Please.” She whimpered as she struggled to keep from reaching orgasm, from tumbling over the edge of her self-control and into the abyss of pleasure. While she pleaded, Harper held his silence save for a few moans as Jasmine’s muscles flexed around his hard cock.

Finally, when Jasmine was certain she would lose her last shreds of control in just a matter of heartbeats, Harper’s lips brushed against her ear. “Come for me, Jasmine,” he murmured, his voice a purring growl in her ear. Jasmine cried out, every muscle in her body flexing and relaxing in spasms; the words were like a key unlocking a vault full of water. Wave after wave of orgasm washed through her, blotting out all thought, and Jasmine heard herself shrieking with pleasure. She barely heard Harper’s moan of pleasure, barely felt his cock twitching inside of her. As Harper reached his own climax, thrusting hard and fast, deep inside of her, Jasmine’s orgasm intensified. After a few moments of unspeakable pleasure, Jasmine collapsed against the bed, eyes closed, darkness washing through her as the final spasms of her pleasure began to abate.

Chapter Five

Jasmine came back to herself slowly, aware of the lingering soreness in her wrists—and suddenly that the silk rope binding them was gone. She heard Harper murmuring praise in her ear, and felt him touching her everywhere, soothingly caressing her. “You did so well, Jasmine. You were so good. Beautiful girl.” Jasmine opened her eyes, looking up to see Harper’s face. She smiled weakly, stretching even as she felt the pull of sore muscles she wasn’t aware has been used.

“That was amazing,” she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, shaking her head. “Quite literally mind-blowing.” Harper grinned more broadly, giving her a lingering caress before he sat up in the bed.

“I believe the hour is well and truly up,” he said. “Do you want to call this game of truth or dare a tie?” Jasmine considered the question. She could feel the fatigue settling into her bones as the delirious haze of orgasm dissipated, and knew that she should get home.

“Let me think about it while I get dressed,” she said, giving him a little grin. Her legs felt unsteady underneath her as she slipped out of the bed. Looking down at her arms, Jasmine could see she still had marks where the ropes had rubbed her skin—but she thought, giving them a cursory examination, that they’d easily fade over the rest of the weekend. The last thing she wanted was to have to wear long sleeves to the office on Monday thanks to a tryst with the company CEO. She felt a flicker of fear and disbelief that she had essentially just had sex with not just her own boss, but her boss’ boss’ boss—as high up in the company as one could get. She shook the thought away and dressed quickly, accepting her wrinkled panties from Harper’s hand.

She glanced at herself in the mirror; she certainly didn’t look as obvious as when she had done the “walk of shame” in college. Jasmine’s body still tingled all over from the intense orgasms she’d received at Harper’s hands—at his command. She took a deep breath, her heart beating faster in her chest, and turned to look at him as she stopped by the door to the bedroom of his suite. “I actually am not quite sure I want to end it on a tie—not just yet,” she said, giving him a little grin. “I dare you to call me and arrange another meet-up sometime.” Jasmine took out one of the business cards that James had left in her keeping and turned it over, writing her own number and name on the back and leaving it on the desk as she walked quickly to the door, without even giving Dominic a chance to tell her whether or not he accepted her dare.

By the time Jasmine’s cab reached her building, the fatigue had set in in earnest. She climbed the stairs slowly, leaning and listing against the wall in the stairwell and pausing on the landings as she considered what she had done. The date with James had been the goal of the evening; but that had fizzled.
At least I was able to salvage the evening,
she thought, smiling to herself as she unlocked her door and stepped into her apartment. Stripping off her clothes, she groped in the darkness of her bedroom for her makeup remover cloths, then fell into bed without even attempting to find pajamas or a nightgown to wear. She wiped her makeup away as best as her tired, fumbling hands would allow, letting the used cloth slip out of her fingers and onto the nightstand before sinking into a deep, unworried sleep.

When she woke on Saturday morning, Jasmine’s first impulse was to check her phone for missed calls; there was one from one of her girlfriends, but nothing else. She sighed but forced herself to get out of bed and go about her normal business nonetheless.
It was a one-night stand. Don’t worry about it... Even if it was the most amazing sex of your life.
Jasmine shuddered, remembering how deftly Dominic had gotten her off using little more than his hands. She had had a few boyfriends in the past, who had all attempted to bring her to orgasm that way; none of them had really succeeded.

And then there had been the tremendously confusing and satisfying act of submitting to Dominic. It was something completely out of Jasmine’s experience, something that in any other context she would never have even considered; more than one of her boyfriends had asked if she would be okay with being tied up and dominated—and she had entirely rejected the idea. But somehow, in the context of their game, with her pride on the line, she had been persuaded—and Jasmine was so glad that she had.

She took a shower, bringing her phone into the bathroom with her just in case Dominic thought to call her that day. As Jasmine’s hands moved over her body, scrubbing away the lingering residue of her encounter, she couldn’t help the vivid flashes of memory that bubbled up in her mind: Dominic twisting and rolling her nipples with almost cruel sharpness, the feeling of him inside of her, the way he had looked fully naked. She had seen him several times in his capacity as CEO of the company—but while she had always found him moderately attractive, she had never allowed herself to give much thought to what he would look like underneath his tailored suits.

As Jasmine went about her weekend chores, forcing herself back into a kind of normalcy, she kept her phone by her side at all times, fully charged, just in case. Each time the phone rang, she jumped, fumbling with anticipation and eagerness to answer it. Of course it was never Dominic, and she had to pretend to be much more enthusiastic than she felt when talking to her friends. As Saturday dragged on, Jasmine’s stomach roiled inside of her, twisting and pitching with anxiety.
Should have had him give me his number,
she thought as she washed the dishes from her lunch in the sink.
That way, at least I would hold some power over the situation. But then he could have rejected it, given me a fake number or no number at all.

As daytime became evening, Jasmine’s thoughts turned to the fact that ultimately, she had committed one of the cardinal sins: sleeping with the boss. Dominic Harper was the CEO of the company she worked for; he was the single most powerful person who existed in her life—practically, from a career standpoint, God himself. He could have her fired without having to have any real grounds for it. Even as she folded her laundry and put it away, Jasmine’s mind gnawed away at the idea. It would be only too easy for Harper to get her employee files, to look up her name; even a cursory search online for her information would reveal her place of employment, even though she’d set her privacy levels as carefully and as strictly as possible.

On Sunday morning, sitting in her living room and pretending to watch TV, Jasmine’s thoughts were occupied by what she considered the only too probable circumstances: Harper could have done a Google search for her name, curious about just what sort of woman he had spent most of his evening with, and that search could have led him to discover that she was not at all who she had said she was.
Such a great idea to give him your real name, Jasmine,
she thought bitterly. She had thought that Dominic would have recognized her immediately; that the worst thing she could have faced at that point was the possibility of him outing her in front of everyone.

But now, in the aftermath of the best night of sex of her entire life, Jasmine thought that it would have been better for her to have risked Dominic recognizing her; apparently, she thought wryly, in spite of having been introduced to her a handful of times professionally, she was unremarkable to him.
He is all about a pretty face, but somehow my face wasn’t pretty enough when he met me in the office.
Jasmine tried to avoid fidgeting as she sat at home, waiting for the call to arrive; but she couldn’t help it as she checked her phone every five minutes. Had she given him the wrong number? Had she written it so quickly that one of the digits had been blurred? Jasmine cleaned her apartment twice on Sunday, just for something to do, worried that she had been found out and that as soon as she reported into work on Monday morning, she would be called into HR and fired.

Even if he hadn’t already figured out who she was, Jasmine thought anxiously, he had seen her at the office before—even if she hadn’t made an impression on him. She had to think that he would recognize a woman who he’d slept with. Surely, she had made enough of an impression on him this time for him to recognize her when he saw her. He could come into her department on one of his inspection tours, or just to speak with the various department heads; and he would see her, recognize her. And then—at that point—there would either be an incredible scene, or she would get her marching orders in the next few days.

But what if he doesn’t recognize me?
The thought intruded on the panic, calming everything down. It had taken an expensive dress, jewelry, makeup, and the proper setting for Dominic to notice her in the first place; in the office setting once more, in her usual steadfastly professional attire and minimal makeup, would he even notice that she existed, much less recognize her from the party and the evening of sex that followed? Or would his gaze merely slide over her as another insignificant assistant manager, someone he didn’t even truly have time to hear the name of?

It could be fun, if she could pull it off, Jasmine thought as she ate dinner on Sunday night. The office was huge; she was one of over a dozen people in the same position, albeit in different departments. What were the odds that Dominic would choose to come to her section anytime soon? It would give her a bit of something back for all the humiliation and disrespect that her job dished out to her daily—to be sleeping with the CEO all along, with no one the wiser for who she was. She could—if Dominic would arrange another meeting—toy with him, pretending to be the person she had claimed to be, and then go back to being her office-flunky self with thoughts of just how much dirt she had on the company’s chief.

As she stripped down for bed, Jasmine realized that she couldn’t really be angry with Dominic for not recognizing her, not anymore, anyway. Her hopes depended on him not noticing, not recollecting the name she had given him. As she slipped naked between the sheets, she began to remember their evening together more and more vividly, calling details to mind that she hadn’t even considered before. She remembered the way he had taken charge of the situation so early in the evening; he had immediately gotten into the game—he had set the bar for their dares so high right from the start, with the command to take off her panties right there in the middle of the dance floor. Jasmine’s hands began to wander over her body, touching and teasing, as she remembered the way that he had caressed her. She could still call to mind the feeling of her hands bound in front of her, the tug of the silk rope against her skin, the way it had pressed into her wrists, making them ache, reminding her constantly of her vulnerable position.

As her fingers drifted downward, barely brushing her already slick labia, Jasmine drifted out of memory and into fantasy. What would it like to really submit to Dominic again? Now that they had had one session together—would he push her farther? His comment about taking it easy on her because she had never been paddled before echoed in her mind. What other kinds of toys did he have? Jasmine shivered as her fingertips found her clit and she began to stroke and rub herself, her fluids flowing more freely now. The vibrating clips he had put on her nipples gave her hints of darker, more thrilling toys—she imagined cuffs and clamps, whips and restraints that would make her even more vulnerable, that would leave her with red-hot stripes across her skin instead of diffused hotspots that went away after a few hours. She might even have a tryst with him in his office, making up an excuse for her proximity, and let him whip her, only to go back to her desk later and feel the burning tingle for hours afterward.

As her mind dreamed up more and more feverish fantasies for what she would let Dominic do to her, Jasmine’s fingers worked her pussy faster, rubbing her clit in tight, swirling circles, two fingers drifting down to her inner labia to slide inside of her body, curling and wriggling, brushing her inner walls. She felt her muscles tightening in spasms around her fingers as she came closer and closer to orgasm just from the thought of being Dominic’s plaything, as she thought of all of the things she would allow him to do to her—if she got the chance. She cried out in the darkness, every muscle tensing as she reached a quick, heady orgasm, her fluids gushing around her fingers. Jasmine continued to work herself as the climax intensified, moaning out again and again, imagining Dominic’s fingers working inside of her and against her clit instead of her own. As the spasms began to abate, she withdrew her fingers slowly, panting, her heart racing in her chest from the pleasure crackling through her veins. It was a pale substitute for what Dominic had given her, but Jasmine found herself drifting off to thoughts of what their next meeting together might bring, smiling as she fell asleep.