Anything He wants

THE BILLIONAIRE’S OBSESSION

For months, he’d been waiting for just this moment. Where his hand could trace along the hollow of her throat and feel her swallow in fear and nervousness. Where he could see the little goose bumps jump up

all along her flesh in his chilly bedroom. Where her lip trembled as she wondered what next awaited her.

This moment had been such a long time coming. For a year, he’d been watching her. Every morning, every afternoon, he saw her walk by on the way to school, and from the first day he knew he had to have her. He’d spent so much money on getting his room just so – buying all the leather straps and collars and harnesses, the silken sheets. Hell, he even splurged on a new king size bed with a canopy.

And why shouldn’t he? He’d made it rich, right from the safety of his computer chair, and it gave him ample time to watch her, to follow her, to go over his plan for her again and again, deciding what he’d do once he lured her in.

She went to the local college and he was older than her, and already divorced. His wife had left him just before he made his fortune, and he couldn’t have been happier for her timing.

It had given him more time to work on his goals, and he looked better than ever. When he wasn’t working or spying on the sweet Aubrey, he was exercising, running. Getting fit, strong.

So that when he had her, he could keep her.

Two days ago he’d struck up a conversation with her at her favourite coffee shop. Sometimes she went in the middle of the day, off campus, to drink some horribly sugary concoction, all by herself. Almost every time he’d seen her, in fact, she was by herself. Certainly it wasn’t because of her looks. The girl could have been a cheerleader if she didn’t seem so out of place in her own body. She had an awkward, cautious way of moving, and you could tell she was conscious of it.

Her height was average, her hair long and dirty blonde.

He thought of those silken strands filtering through his fingers, prickling against her scalp as he made her look at him.

She always wore loose fitted tops and skirts, but her legs were divine, and her outfits just added to the intrigue. Throughout the winter it was even worse, with her large coat, scarf and hat, but it had only made him more smitten.

He’d thought of stripping off those layers, one after another, discovering what prizes she hid beneath it all.

It had been easy to approach her in the overcrowded cafe, asking if he could share her table just for a little while. His head had been spinning and he couldn’t quite recall all the details of the conversation, which he cursed himself for, but eventually she told him it had just been her twentieth birthday. When he bought her a cupcake, she’d broken down in tears.

He was the only person who had wanted to celebrate with her.

She couldn’t afford the tuition at any of the better schools and was stuck living with her parents until she could graduate and move into the big city for work.

“Well if you want,” he’d offered, never before having felt such a thrill, “I could offer you a place to stay. Rent free, until you graduate, of course. I have a spare room.”

“I couldn’t,” she’d protested, her green eyes seeking out his matching pair. “I couldn’t do that to you.” Maybe there was some hesitation, some caution. It was wise of her, but he simply smiled as if it were all up to her.

Surely his height and build could be intimidating. But he’d hoped that his green eyes, his carefree stubble, his strong jawline would balance that out. Make him seem ruggedly handsome rather than dangerous.

“Listen. I know what it’s like, having parents who don’t appreciate you.” He spoke slowly, with measured beats, in a controlled tone.

She wiped away her tears as he spoke, her lower lip trembling. He wanted to bite it. To kiss her so hard she’d stop shaking and melt into him.

“I have a nice house, good neighbours. You’d have your own room and all that. Privacy.” He leaned back in his seat, nonchalantly, reaching into the breast pocket of the fine tailored jacket and retrieving a business card holder. Unclasping the fine platinum holder, he took out one of the thick pieces of cardstock with his name, business, and phone number on it.

“You don’t have to decide now. But if things get too tough at home, it’s an option, okay? I work from home, and that’s my cell number. If you need me, I’ll come running.”

Her caution melted away, her slender shoulders slumping with gratitude, and she nodded. His heart beat faster and his loins began to stir at the image of this wary vixen.

“I’ll think about it,” she’d said, and he gave a calm smile as if it was all up to her.

He watched as she swallowed, traced her pink tongue over her pale lips and left a slight sheen behind. Her cheeks were a bit flushed, her outfit a bit too heavy for the crowded cafe, but it left her looking like a porcelain doll, so artfully painted.

As he stood from the table he was thankful his jacket hid the bulge in his pants. He leaned down and his index finger went to her chin, making her look into his eyes. He held her gaze for a few seconds before he spoke,

“Happy birthday, Aubrey.”

Tears glittered in her eyes again and a smile formed on her wet mouth.

“Thank you, Ryan.”

It wasn’t even a full four hours before he got her call, and he went to pick her up in his black Audi. It was all dark at her address, and for a few minutes he wondered if she was yanking his leg.

It wasn’t a great neighbourhood. The grass was overgrown in most of the lawns, and there was a broken down vehicle in her driveway. He momentarily wished that he hadn’t just waxed the car earlier that day, making it sparkle under the few street lamps that still flickered in and out. It stood out too much, was too flashy in the poor neighbourhood.

But when she quietly closed her front door, an oversized duffle bag in her hand, eyes widening at the sight of the car, he knew he’d done the right thing. Silently, he slid from the driver’s seat and walked over to help her with her bag, like a gentleman.

This was the start of something amazing, for both of them. She just didn’t know it yet.

“I ‘m not sure about this,” she protested as she heard the camera flash go off again, her arms bound behind her. She was still dressed in that oversized white shirt, the black skirt pooling around her legs as she kneeled before him. A soft, leather collar was worn tight around her throat and she wouldn’t stop swallowing, as if to make room.

She’d already accepted more than a couple of drinks that night as they celebrated her final midterm exam. She’d been living with him a few weeks, and he couldn’t have been more elated with the company, the companionship. It had started out as lust, as a passing curiosity, but had quickly exploded into something more. A friendship of sorts.

When he’d told her that he made and sold bondage equipment online, it wasn’t a total lie. He was the middle man, an intermediary for a bunch of fetish sites. But he didn’t make it, and he certainly didn’t need a model for his newest designs.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.

But she was cautiously curious, and that’d been enough. When he asked if she’d be willing to take some pictures – totally clothed, totally anonymous – she’d been afraid but that temptation gleamed in her eyes.

When he’d offered to pay her, to help her gain her independence, it was what toppled her over the edge.

“You look great, Aubrey. The collar fits you perfectly.” He smiled as he looked down on her, the camera separating them yet making him feel so in control. So in charge. “We’ll take it slow and just do what makes you comfortable,” he reassured her in his deep voice and she nodded.

“I’ve just… never done anything like this.” Her eyes were blindfolded, her arms bound, her throat collared, and he’d never seen her look more perfect. Her pristine skin looked so fresh and clean after her shower, and even though it was the middle of the night, both of them were wide awake. Alert.

Not even the wine could inhibit this, not when there was such electricity between them.

“I promise, no one will know it’s you. I really appreciate this, you know. And I’m sure the $500 will go a long way towards a lease, eventually.”

She stilled her uneasy fidgeting for a moment at the reminder of why she’d really agreed to do this, and she gave another nod.

His cock throbbed in his pants.

He could scarcely believe that this was happening, that all his dreams were coming true, and the grin across his face widened as he dropped to one knee in front of her. He could smell that light vanilla perfume on her, see every little detail of her skin as his eyes greedily devoured her blindfolded form.

“This will be the easiest money you can ever make, Princess. If you don’t watch yourself, you might get addicted.”

The way her back arched at the word ‘princess’ made his loins jump again, responding so acutely to that odd mix of emotions he sensed within her. The submission in her, craving to be coaxed out.

Ryan didn’t touch her, though. Not then. Even though he wanted to, he only appreciated every bit of her body in its fully-clothed glory, up close and personal. She was bound and helpless, but he didn’t want her to fight.

He didn’t want her to struggle.

No, he wanted something grander. He wanted to possess her.

To get in under her skin.

The next day, he doled out 25 crisp $20 bills, placing them into her hand with a wink. She was already feeling more comfortable, now that he’d proven his word and not taken advantage of his bondage shots. She’d come out of it unscathed. Untouched.

He almost felt like a father, paying her allowance, and when he watched her head out to classes there was a noticeable skip to her step. She’d be back, begging for more before she knew it.