Bound to the Billionaire

Chapter Seven: Sorry, My Hands are Tied

I ran. I was used to running, I think that's why its the first thing I taunted him with. I'll run away, that's all I'd ever done, it's the only threat I could give him. I didn't know his little apartment well, hardly knew it all. I knew a kitchen attached to a living room; I knew a bedroom where the bed wasn't made and there were books all over the floor. I sprinted toward the door, but I was a puny man, and Nico was this big Adonis, this man who could have had whoever he wanted, beautiful and very, very buff. Suffice to say, I was toast. 

My hand was already on the door knob when he caught me. His arms wrapped around my trunk, and he tore me off the door. It was a squeezing hug, I squirmed but I only felt his arm dig into my rib cage, the friction of his body against mine.  

I kicked. It felt good, I hated to admit it. To be trapped. To not have that control; I was always in control day-to day. I had to be. Dimitri, how do we file our taxes, Dimitri, if you don't advertise, you're not going to get any customers. Dimitri, the house is dirty, the dishes haven't been done in weeks, who's fault is this? What are we going to do? Dimitri, Dimitri, Dimitri. 

My wolf growled, but it was a playful little growl. He was subdued because he loved Nico, he remembered all the stories I didn't bother to pay attention to as a child, stories about Moon Goodesses creating mates perfect for each other, the other half, the perfect someone.The wolf wanted to takeover, dominate. But I wouldn't let him, I couldn't. So when he started growling, I melted. Went limp against Nico's tight grasp. And I was smiling, why was I smiling?

He lifted me up, slipped an arm under my knees, this cute bridal carry. I'd wanted him to be rough, I wanted him to treat me like someone he'd found in a sleazy bar, someone he just wanted to f**k. But he didn't treat me like that. He had this glow on his face, this light in his eyes when he looked down at me. And it made me squeeze my arms around his neck, made me feel warm and gooey on the inside. The fucker had turned me soft and buttery. Like a baked good. 

I didn't fight him when he carried me into his bedroom, didn't fight him as he placed me down onto his thick, navy sheets. It felt good. I laughed, except it could barely be described as that. It was a giggle. A titter. He just wants you because he thinks the Moon Goddess told him to, that's all! But I didn't believe that when he looked down at me with those black, searing eyes. The light in them made me feel so warm. Made me feel wanted.

"You should, uh, tie me up." I tried to sound sly about it, but it was such a nervous sound. My hair must've been sweat-drenched, my eyes must've been rung with dark circles, and there he was, looking beautiful as always. I'd never seen him look anything but beautiful. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, pressing his knee into the bed beside me. His hips ground down on mine, and the pressure of him on me didn't feel as rough. It felt warm, it felt close and intimate and I wanted to wrap myself up in him, I wanted to be his. "You know, for someone who doesn't want to be my mate, you sure like putting yourself in these situations." He waggled his eyebrows. "I could mark you."

"And I could kill you." It just comes out, and my wolf whimpers. "Mark me and I'll, I'll f*****g obliterate you."

He takes his shirt off, balls it up in his fist. I wriggle my hips under him, testing the snuggness on his hold. He's got me squarely pinned, no matter how much I squirm I'm trapped in the cage of his body. And it's a wonderful cage.  "And—"

He took the ball of fabric and pressed it into my mouth, wedged it behind my teeth. It was such a startling motion, so sudden, I gave a little "mmph!"

"Quiet," he said. He didn't have to call me 'slave,' he didn't even have to deepen his voice. He said it sternly, the way he'd talk to an employee. It was a command, and I obeyed. Even though my wolf makes a growl, challenging. I don't let him fight. I give in. And it makes my face fill up with heat, makes my body go pliant under his beautiful, calloused hands. I'm his, if only in these moments. His to tease, his to torture. 

Looking up into that face, then down into those glistening muscles, I smiled as he reached underneath the bed: it was a little exciting, he never showed me all that he had for this, well, "purpose," in his room tour. I was  at his mercy to all his possible secrets, all his possible tricks. It made me vulnerable, which was bad, for sure, but to be fair, I was horny. He lifted up a silky black length of rope. The satiny type, the kind made specifically for the purpose of, well, tying up delicate little twinks like me. 

He grasped both my wrists, and I couldn't help but go live again in his hands. I squirmed, I whined. My wolf snarled, desperate to fight him for dominance, and a little bit of my wolf's fight bled into me. I wanted to play. I wanted the billionaire to overpower me, control me, for only these moments. I could get the urges, the yearning to belong to him, out of my system. I could go back to being an independent dude who didn't need another person telling me what to do, I could do it as soon as I left his bedroom. I could do it...

He wrapped up both my wrists, over and over, in the soft  I growled, I whined, he looped the last length of rope between them into a thick knot that rested between the bony parts of my wrist. With the little left, he wrapped it around one of the spokes that made up his headboard. I tried the rope, and when I squirmed my hands the knot nipped my skin. I was trapped. Trapped in Nico's bed, trapped in the silky oasis of his sheets, the throes of his wonderful scent. My heart fluttered, frantic, in my chest. 

I wanted to say something. I don't know what exactly, maybe a little quip at him. Good job, boy scout. Or a plead. Please don't mark me. I could've spit the shirt out, or at least tried. But I didn't. I let him run his nimble fingers down my chest, let him peel up my teeshirt, my sad, cold, wet teeshirt, and roll it up over my eyes. All I could see was white, and the faint semblance of shadows criss-crossing at the edges of my eyes. I let myself fall into the delicious smell of his body, let my wolf whine and howl and beg for his touch. 

He slipped his fingers into the waistband of my boxers, and I shivered at his touch. "Look at you," he said. "All tied up and nowhere to go."

It was cheesy. It was endearing, strangely, I have to admit, but endearing nonetheless. I couldn't tell how much of this adoration for him came from me or my desperate wolf, but it was enough that when he drew his hands up my chest, I wriggled and moaned, swept my tongue up against the gag that smelled so much like him it caused me to whimper. 

Nico's soft lips pressed against mine. All I could see was the white of my shirt, all I could feel was the pressure of his mouth jammed against mine, how when I tried to push my tongue against his, all I could feel was the gag pushing back against it.  As he spidered his hand down into my boxers, I could only do as I had been: struggle and whine. Struggle my body toward his calloused, roving hands. Whine for him to release me from the sweet torment of his body being so close while I could do nothing, nothing. 

"You like this, don't you? You're a little submissive for an alpha, aren't you, Dimitri." His taunting voice. I wish I could've seen his face, wish I could've seen the handsome smirk that had me literally and figuratively all knots. "If you took me as your mate, I could keep you like this for as long as I wanted to. And you would like that."

I would. I opened my mouth a little to tell him that hey, an alpha can be a sub in the bedroom, too. That hey, maybe if I didn't have to take care of my shitty pack and my business stuff, maybe I'd have enough energy to want to dominate someone else. That maybe, I was already pretty dominant day to day anyway, thankyouverymuch. But I couldn't get a word of it out. His fingers scraped up against my teeth and the gag became wedged even tighter behind my molars. So my protests became soft mmphs!

A hand dropped to the waistband of my boxers for a second time. I bucked up against him, felt the firmness of his hips as he ground them down into mine. "You want me, don't you?" 

I did. Drowned in his scent, tied down to the sheets that smelt so faintly of his cologne, that dark musky smell, tortured by his finger pads as they teased my hips, my waist, my chest. I groaned into him. He kissed my forehead, my cheek. Kissed my neck, butterfly kisses that tickled and made my skin flushed, sweaty. I felt those lips open against my jugular, felt the flat, cool touch of his teeth as they grazed me there. Grazed me, a gentle teasing motion. 

"You want this mark, don't you?"

I did. In that moment, I wanted it. I wanted him. I wanted to belong to him, to be his mate, to be his. To be possessed by this powerful, mysterious man. To lie my head on his shoulder and learn everything there was to know about him. I didn't know him, but it felt good. I liked him. And the Moon Goddess was supposed to know, right? I never believed in "other halves" and all that, but it had to be...

"I wish you would show me your wolf, it must be beautiful, Dimitri."

His scent, his hands, they'd clouded my senses. I hate to admit it, but I would've done it. I would've arched my neck and left my throat exposed for him to sink his sharp, white teeth into. I would have let him see my wolf. I would've let him understand. 

But in the distance, there came a crack. A snarl, a sound so inhuman, a sound so wolfish, that the whimper that tore from my mouth had nothing to do with a longing for Nico. It was out of, simply put, fear.