Billionaire's Prisoner

15. Devil’s Playground

Emma's breath hitched as Damien's fingers closed around her wrist, guiding her deeper into the dimly lit warehouse. The air hummed with anticipation, thick with the scent of leather and Damien's intoxicating cologne.

Her pulse thundered in her ears as she took in the space- the plush lounges, the bar lined with expensive liquor, and the far wall adorned with an array of equipment that made her cheeks burn. Ropes. Silk ties. A sleek, padded bench.

Oh god.

Damien's thumb traced slow circles against her inner wrist, his voice a dark caress. "Nervous?"

Emma swallowed. "Should I be?”

His lips curved, slow and sinful. "That depends." He stepped closer, his body a wall of heat against hers. "Do you trust me?"

The question hung between them, weighted.

Emma's gaze flickered to the restraints, then back to his smoldering eyes. "I'm paying you," she breathed, defiance lacing her words.

Damien chuckled, low and rough. "Then consider this part of the service."

With a single motion, he spun her around, pressing her back against his chest. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as his hands slid down her arms, pinning them to her sides. "Safe word?"

Emma's heart stuttered. "W-what?"

"If it's too much," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "Say red.”

A shiver raced down her spine. "And if I want more?"

Damien's teeth grazed her earlobe. "Then beg.”

The silk tie slithered around Emma's wrists, cool and smooth against her flushed skin. Damien secured them to the headboard with practiced ease, his fingers lingering just long enough to tease.

Emma tested the restraints-firm, but not painful. "You've done this before."

Damien smirked, trailing a finger down her bare arm. "Would you believe me if I said no?"

She arched her brow. "Not a chance.”

His laugh was dark velvet as he leaned down, his lips hovering just above hers. "Good girl."

Then his mouth crashed into hers, hot and demanding. Emma melted into the kiss, her body arching off the bed as his hands roamed-skimming her ribs, cupping her breasts, thumbing her n*****s into stiff peaks through the emerald fabric.

"This dress," he growled against her lips, "is obscene."

With a sharp tug, the delicate material tore at the seams, baring her to his hungry gaze. Emma gasped, but the sound morphed into a moan as Damien's mouth found her throat, her collarbone, the swell of her breast-

Then lower.

Her back arched as his tongue flicked over a taut n****e, his teeth grazing just enough to make her whimper.

"Damien-"

"Beg," he commanded, his voice rough.

Emma's breath came in ragged pants. "Please."

"Please what?" His fingers dipped between her thighs, stroking through her slick heat.

"Please don't stop.”

Damien's touch was relentless-alternating between featherlight caresses and sharp, stinging slaps that left her skin tingling. Every sensation was amplified, every nerve alight.

When his palm connected with her inner thigh, Emma gasped, her hips jerking.

"Red?" Damien paused, his grip tightening just enough to remind her of his control.

Emma shook her head, her voice trembling. "Green."

His smirk was wicked. "Good answer."

Then his mouth was on her, laving slow, torturous circles over her clit while his fingers plunged deep, curling just so-

Emma's vision whited out.

Boneless and breathless, Emma lay sprawled across the sheets, her wrists still bound. Damien loomed over her, his chest glistening with sweat, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"Still think I'm just an escort?" he murmured, tracing the marks he'd left on her hips.

Emma's laugh was breathless. "I think you're dangerous."

Damien's smile was all teeth as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was somehow tender amidst the wreckage.

"You have no idea.”

Damien's mouth was relentless.

Emma writhed beneath him, her wrists still secured to the headboard, every nerve alight with sensation. His tongue traced slow, torturous circles around her n****e before sucking hard enough to make her gasp. His free hand skimmed down her stomach, fingers dipping teasingly between her thighs-just enough to make her hips jerk, but not enough to give her what she craved.

"Damien," she panted, her voice ragged.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. "Yes, Miss Smith?"

Emma tugged at the restraints, her body trembling. "Touch me.”

A slow smirk curled his lips. "I am touching you." His fingers trailed higher, brushing the inside of her thigh but deliberately avoiding where she ached for him.

Emma let out a frustrated groan. "You know what I mean."

Damien leaned down, his breath hot against her ear. "Say it."

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. She could hold out. She should hold out. But the way his body pressed against hers, the way his fingers teased just there-

"Please," she whispered.

"Please what?" His thumb brushed her clit, featherlight, and she nearly sobbed.

"Please I want you inside.”

In one fluid motion, he freed himself from his slacks, his length heavy and thick in his hand. Emma's breath hitched at the sight-the way his arousal glistened at the tip, the way his grip tightened as he stroked himself slowly, his eyes locked on hers.

"Tell me you want it," he commanded, his voice rough.

Emma's thighs trembled. "I want it."

"How do you want it?"

She swallowed. "Hard."

Damien's smirk was pure sin. "Good girl."

He didn't make her wait.

With one sharp thrust, he buried himself inside her, filling her so completely that her back arched off the bed. A cry tore from her lips, her muscles clenching around him as he set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips sending shockwaves of pleasure through her.

"f**k," he gritted out, his fingers digging into her hips. "You are the same f*****g tight and hot inside"

Emma could barely form words. Every thrust stole her breath, every drag of his c**k against her walls ratcheting her higher, tighter-

Then his hand slid between them, his thumb pressing firm circles against her clit.

That was all it took.

Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, her body seizing around him as pleasure ripped through her. Damien swore, his rhythm faltering as her tight heat milked him, and with one last deep thrust, he followed her over the edge, his groan muffled against her throat.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was their ragged breathing.

Then Damien reached up, deftly untying the silk restraints before gathering Emma against him. Her limbs felt like liquid, her body humming with satisfaction as she curled into his warmth.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice rough but oddly tender. "So, how was today's transaction, Miss Smith?"

Emma's lips curved against his skin. "I think you're very good at your job."

No wonder you charge ten thousand a week! She thought.

Damien chuckled, low and dark. "You have no idea."

His eyes narrowed for a second, as his lips brushed her earlobes, “tell me, Bella. Do you love your husband?”

Damien waited. Every vein in his body held their breaths for some reason. Emma slowly moved. Meeting his stormy eyes she chuckled, “of course, not.”

“Then why did you marry him?” Damien questioned.

“Because…” Emma stared at him blankly for a second. “Hold on! Didn't I tell you not to dig into private life?”

Damien let out a rich chuckle, “fair enough.” His lips kissed her forehead, “I will wait.”

I will wait for you to tell me everything, bella! I will wait forever.

And as his fingers traced lazy patterns down her spine, Emma let herself drift, just for a moment, pretending this was more than just business.

Pretending it could last.