Page 38 of The Billionaire

Or was God trying to protect you from going in?A little voice taunted me.

The door opened with a giant squeak.

“You may enter.”

I entered into the chilly . . . er, what I assumed was the entryway?

The door shut behind me and all I could do was wait for what was next.

“She’s here, sir.” The man said.

“Here. You may sit right here.”

Sit right here? This was rather different than last time.

The nerves sent heat throughout my body and I suddenly felt hot. As I struggled to get out of the jacket, the man hastily ordered me to leave the jacket on.

So, I sat waiting. Completely nervous. I felt nauseous again and was reminded of that foreign sensation down there with the plug deep within me. This was all very uncomfortable.

“Ah, there she is.” A man’s voice boomed. A man’s voice that commanded a presence.

“My Queen for the night.” Two hot kisses appeared on my cheeks by the apparent king of the night. His flood of cologne alerted my senses, as did a heavy thickness of cigar smoke.

He draped my arm through his and began walking, leading me as I coughed.

“Ah, we are going to have a lovely time together.” He said very eccentrically, his Bostonian accent blaring.

My heels echoed loudly in what sounded to be another grand palace judging from the empty acoustics.

I couldn’t help but imagine this man next to me wore a pointed mustache like men wore in the olden days. He just sounded like one of those men.

I wrapped my right arm tightly around my stomach as a protecting mechanism.

“Ah, don’t you worry your little pretty face.”

Suddenly, I felt the lifting of my blindfold and a flood of dimly lit candles from gas lanterns stung my eyes. I was stunned. Last time everything was so secretive. I wasn’t able to see anything or anyone until I was in a private room with him.

My eyes continued to adjust to the dimly lit stone hallway. It felt like we were in a cave of some sort with the plunging temperature and the way the halls were covered in stone.

“No need to hide your eyes any longer. You won’t figure out where you are.” He smirked. “How is the little plug?” His accent was even more prominent now.

The question jerked my observance from the lit candles on the walls on to the very raw realness of the moment and what lay ahead next. The taking of my ass. I was terrified.

“Uh . . . .” I bit my lip as he laughed gregariously.

“I chose the right one for tonight. I just know it.” He laughed wickedly as he pinched my cheek hard.

“I—“

I couldn’t find the words to speak. I didn’t know what to say. I suddenly felt like the virginal maid in medieval times being taken to a king to “lay”.

Using my peripheral vision, I discreetly study this man who allegedly was the king of this night and my stomach dropped to the tip of my toes. I was terrified! He was atrocious looking! He indeed did have a mustache, yet it was shorter. He wore a crisp tuxedo. The little hair he had left was gelled back creepily around his receding hairline. He was short and fat, and his cigar hung precariously in the side of his mouth.

He looked like the perfect fit for what a man in charge of the mafia would look like. He turned to stare at me.

Oh my God, I’m terrified!

After briefly looking into his crystal sky blue eyes surrounded heavily with laugh lines that sat proudly above the dark bags under his eyes, I quickly looked down at the stone in utter fear.

---