Bound by His Command: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 3

  I wanted to scream, to rake out his eyes. The second I heard a deep snarl coming from near the door, I felt a sense of relief.

  But I knew it would only be short-lived.

  Christopher

  As I walked into the last room along the long hallway, a flash of anger rolled through me, the Russian’s advances obviously predatory in nature.

  “You will do as I say. No one is coming to save you,” Aleksandr snarled, his massive body pushing hers to the wall. “Besides, I’ve already bought you. Every. Single. Inch.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, she reacted, slapping him hard across the face, the force enough that the Russian’s head was shoved toward the side.

  As he spouted off in Russian, the majority of which I couldn’t understand, the single phrase I did recognize yanked the beast from his den.

  “Poshel ty, malen’kaya shlyukha.”

  Fuck you, little whore.

  There was no hesitation. I tossed the asshole against the wall, immediately issuing a hard punch to his kidney followed by one under his jaw. When he came out swinging, I managed to snag his arm, yanking it behind his back while wrapping my arm around his neck and squeezing.

  “Ty svin’ya,” she retorted, stamping her foot on the floor.

  Aleksandr narrowed his eyes, hissing as he glared at her.

  “The lady doesn’t take it kindly to being called a little whore and it is definitely something I will not tolerate in my club.” The fact she knew Russian, calling him a pig was as pleasing as the fact she’d stood up for herself. It was also a red flag. The timing was far too coincidental to his arrival. “I suggest you and your friends call it a night.”

  “No. She has agreed to a dance, even taken my money. It is my right to require that she finishes the transaction,” Aleksandr snarled as he nodded to the cash on the table. “If not, then she must be punished.”

  While my brothers and I had changed a significant number of the rules since taking over, a few remained, including what the asshole Russian was referring to. My grandfather had considered the submissives working in the club more like slaves, requiring them to do almost anything requested by one of the members. If not, they were to be punished in a method of the guest’s choice.

  What absolute bullshit.

  The Russian had been here before. Years before. I didn’t like the odds that he suddenly returned, demanding attention from one of my dancers. My instinct was to gut him.

  However, I remembered Gregory’s warning, words that continued to piss me off. As he continued to struggle in my arms, I squeezed my arm around his neck. “You will listen to me, Russian. I don’t care who you think you are or why you’re here. This is my club and she is my employee. You will not touch her again.” After a few seconds, I eased my hold, prepared for him to retaliate.

  He broke free, taking two steps back, rubbing his jaw as his eyes fell to the lovely dancer. “Be careful, Mr. Dunmore. You have no idea who I am.”

  Very slowly I eased my suit jacket aside, allowing him to see the handle of my weapon. “As if I give a fuck.”

  He swore under his breath as he rubbed both hands through his long hair, a sneer crossing his face. “Very well.” After a few seconds, he smiled. “However, I have a proposition for you, Mr. Dunmore.”

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Name your price. I want her and I always get what I want. How about one million American dollars for a single night?”

  A million dollars.

  Aleksandr’s arrogance was intolerable; however, his insinuations that he could buy anything he wanted were akin to words that I would say.

  “She’s not for sale, Mr. Prentikov. No one inside this club is.” Asshole. The prick reeked of something other than vodka, the slight shimmer in his eyes an indication of his intoxication level. That made him even more dangerous.

  “Everyone has a price, Mr. Dunmore. A man such as yourself knows that all too well.” His eyes twinkling, the wall of gloating he gave me was one of knowing. What the fuck was the asshole doing here? I was even more determined to find out, slicing and dicing him if necessary to do so.

  I offered a smile, shaking my head as I closed the distance, standing over him by a solid three inches. “I’m not a man to be fucked with, Aleksandr. Not now. Not ever. Now, you and your goons are going to leave here tonight, and you will not return. I quite frankly don’t give a shit whether or not you have a membership. As far as the woman. She belongs to me. My property. If and when she needs punishment, it is a task that only I will handle. Do I make myself clear or do I need to pound your head against the wall in order to ensure that you do?”

  The lovely dancer wadded up the cash, taking long strides in his direction, holding out her arm defiantly. “I don’t want this. I will never be for sale.”

  Laughing, he refused to take it.

  She smiled, the kind of practiced smile that could turn a man into ice then dropped the wad of cash onto the floor. His facial expression was difficult to read, but his eyes held the same kind of fury that burned deep in my psyche.

  After gazing down the length of her, he maintained the eye contact with me for a full thirty seconds. Then he gave a single nod, turning swiftly and walking toward the exit. He slowly tipped his head, the action enabling him to take another look at the dancer.

  “Ot menya nekuda spryatat’sya. Ya naydu tebya. I kogda ya eto sdelayu, ty budesh’ moyey.”

  What the fuck was his threat? While I knew several expressions in Russian, whatever he’d spouted off I could barely understand. However, there was no doubt by her paling skin and the nervous tic appearing in the corner of her mouth that his threat troubled her significantly.

  I moved toward the door, reaching inside the pocket of my jacket for the handle of my Glock. I knew I hadn’t seen the last of the prick. I would enjoy putting a single bullet between his eyes. I turned to gaze at her, realizing that the Russian’s words had dual meaning, as if she’d requited his advances before.

  “What is your name?” I demanded after returning to the room.

  She remained defensive, the mask covering a good portion of her face barely able to hide her rage.

  “If I have to ask you again, the punishment you do deserve will be severe. Or if you would prefer, I’ll be happy to allow our illustrious member to return, providing whatever discipline he believes is necessary.” I’d spent enough time around people who’d spent their life harboring secrets to recognize when they were.

  Huffing, she ran her tongue across her lips, forcing my cock to twitch.

  “My name is Callie. Thank you, Mr. Dunmore, for saving me from that pig, but I am not your property,” she said with utter defiance.

  I sucked in my breath, pulling my weapon into both hands, watching as he strolled down the hallway, heading back into the main portion of the club. I doubted the asshole would leave quietly. When he rounded the corner, heading for the main portion of the club, a part of me knew I should go after him.

  Another part of me wanted nothing more than to punish her exactly as my fantasy had played out. She was certainly risking my wrath with her attitude. However, I was more intrigued with her than ever. Still, she needed to learn her place. I slid my weapon back into my pocket, controlling my anger. “Callie, you are going to learn the hard way that rules were created for a reason.” She had to know I’d find out who she really was. Her attempt at continuing to hide behind her persona provided a clear indication she was prepared to lie to me about her relationship with the asshole.

  Grabbing her arm, I yanked her over the edge of the dressing table, bringing my hand down against her backside.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded, adding gasoline to the already raging fire.

  “Calling our members pigs isn’t allowed.” I ripped at her outfit as I studied her in the mirror, the burning look in her eyes matching my own. She was a handful. When I managed to rip down her panties, exposing her rounded buttocks, she gritted her teeth and clawed the edge of th
e table.

  “How about asshole?” she retorted.

  I cocked my head, my desire building to the point of no return. As I peppered her naked skin with one brutal smack after another, the force shoving her hard against the wooden surface, I could almost read her vile thoughts.

  “I suggest you learn about obedience and remorse.” The sting on my hand was invigorating, my cock now pinching against my zipper.

  She pushed up from the table, taking deep breaths as a beautiful warm blush crept along her cheeks, the color similar to the rosy red appearing on her bottom.

  “I know my place.”

  Her rebellious nature was stimulating as fuck, although no one challenged me, not if they didn’t want to face my wrath. I couldn’t believe the fire in her eyes or the way she twisted her mouth. She would soon have my cock pushed past her voluptuous lips.

  “What did he say to you, Callie?” I asked as I caressed her skin, taking my time to run my finger up and down the crack of her ass.

  Tensing, her entire body quivered but she remained silent.

  “I am not a patient man. You will answer me and yes, you are my property. What did he say to you? I know you understand Russian. I can tell by the look on your face that whatever he spouted off troubled you. So. Tell. Me.”

  I studied her face, the tense lines crossing her brow and the way her mouth pursed. She was hiding, holding secrets that the Russian threatened to undermine. What I was unable to determine was whether the two knew each other or if his hunger had turned him into a savage. Either way, the need for additional punishment was a possibility.

  “If you do not tell me, I will continue punishing you,” I said after a few seconds. The scent of her infiltrated my senses, fueling the fire burning deep within. She was like a true innocent, beautiful and beguiling in an unassuming way. My beast broke through the surface, my cock yearning to feel the warmth of her pussy.

  And I would.

  She laughed before pushing her hand across her lips, every action riddled with nervousness.

  “Have it your way.” I smacked her bottom hard and fast, the slapping sound filtering into the space around us.

  Biting her lower lip, she arched her back as if she was enjoying the spanking. Damn the woman. Why did I have the distinct feeling that she didn’t want to tell me the truth?

  I kicked her legs apart, smacking her upper thighs before sliding my fingers in between her legs. Only then did a single moan escape her lips.

  Every cell in my body was sizzling, my heart thudding against my chest. I’d never felt such a draw to a woman. All the same dark and filthy visions manifested themselves in my mind again, desires threatening my control, the last thing I needed. “I take the behavior of my employees very seriously, no matter the circumstances.”

  “Why, yes, sir.”

  When she ground her hips back and forth, her eyes shimmering even from behind the mask, I almost took her. “While I am a brutal man, Callie, I also enjoy giving pleasure when it’s justified.” I barely dipped my fingers between her swollen folds, sucking in my breath from the feel of her extreme wetness.

  The nervous tic on the corner of her mouth was the only indication that my actions either delighted or disgusted her. She was doing everything she could to maintain power. I rolled the tip of my finger around her clit then resumed spanking her, issuing twenty in rapid succession.

  When I was finished, I remained directly behind her, planting my hands on either side. She was uncomfortable as hell at the closeness, but I could smell her intense desire, the same longing that furrowed deep inside of me. “I’m going to ask you one more time, Callie. If you don’t answer me this time, I will have no choice but to continue into a second round of punishment and I assure you, that is one you will remember for several days. Do I make myself clear?”

  A few seconds ticked by as she studied me.

  “Fine, Mr. Dunmore. The bastard said,” she snarled, her tone as icy as her glare, “‘There is nowhere you can hide from me. I will find you. And when I do, you will be mine.’”

  What did the unseemly Russian have on her? Something was off, my instinct telling me that at minimum she’d had dealings with Prentikov before.

  I slowly backed away, a combination of venomous fury as well as an irrational need to ravage her entering my system.

  It was as if something snapped deep within me, my desire refusing to be denied.

  I would protect her.

  Then she would be forced to surrender to me.

  “You will stay in this room until I return, and you will obey me. Then we are going to talk. Make no mistake. I am a dangerous man, one who refuses to be lied to. I suggest you keep that in mind.”

  Chapter 3

  Willow

  Punish.

  I held my breath until Mr. Dunmore left, lifting my arm and giving him the middle finger as soon as he walked out. Who the hell did he think he was, giving me a spanking in the middle of a dressing room? Was he trying to humiliate me, sending a message to the other girls?

  Be very afraid of the big bad wolf?

  Fuck him.

  Fuck everything.

  The same warm flush of embarrassment as before remained, my cheeks likely as red as my bottom. Grimacing, I yanked up my panties, furious that I’d gotten myself into such a ridiculous position.

  Dangerous.

  He’d thrown the word around as if he was some kind of god. Fuck him twenty times over.

  I closed my eyes briefly, unable to rid my mind of his gorgeous face.

  Or his rugged, muscular body as it had been pressed against mine.

  Damn it.

  The way his cock had felt was… delicious, throbbing sensations continuing to rocket through me. What was I thinking? And why was my body still trembling?

  I’d been attracted to him since the day I’d accepted the position, yet I refused to be treated like some possession. Been there. Done that. And I had the scars to prove it. I’d seen the look in Christopher’s eyes only minutes before, the same kind of longing that the Russian had. The men were similar in far too many ways, their need to indulge in their commanding desires more terrifying than the majority of women could imagine.

  What the hell was I supposed to tell Christopher? Of course I knew what Aleksandr was capable of, but that had been from years ago. Oh, God. Everything was coming to a crashing end.

  My life.

  My future.

  Any hope of happiness.

  My tummy churned, my head aching as fear replaced the exhilaration of being on stage. I loved dancing, the time spent in my fantasy world something I’d searched long and hard to find all over again.

  Dancing three nights a week also paid my bills.

  However, no man was ever going to control me again, no matter how incredibly good-looking or desirable he was. I glared into the dressing room mirror, scrutinizing the outfit I’d pieced together, wanting nothing more than to rip it into pieces. Provocative. Sensual. I’d heard the various phrases used, men fighting to follow the rules imposed by the club. I’d felt protected by the regulations until now. Somehow, I knew that world was coming to an end.

  Christopher Dunmore had proven himself to be harsh, strict on every level, yet he’d remained appealing, calling to the woman I’d buried deep inside. I couldn’t get over the dominating look on his face or the way he’d issued demands. He was primal.

  Savage.

  Desirable.

  And he’d spanked me like I was some freaking bad girl.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  I moved toward the dressing room door, slamming it shut and taking several gasping breaths. “Damn it.” I’d been such a fool. While every dancer used a stage name in order to keep their real identities hidden, Christopher could certainly find out the truth regarding my identity if he was so inclined. At least the fierce Russian had never learned my real name, or so I prayed to God. Why did I have a feeling it was only a matter of time until he’d turn over every rock in DC in order to find
out? It was the look he’d given me, not quite one of recognition but of molding me into the girl he’d once attempted to own.

  A shudder slid down my spine, my mind reeling from the fact Aleksandr had appeared out of nowhere. I’d done everything I could to leave the world I’d known for so long, forging a new path in DC as well as being forced to accept a new identity. But Christopher’s demands were something else entirely.

  I darted a quick look at the door before lifting the silky material of my dress and tugging on my dancewear that he’d treated as if I’d been wearing a G-string. My fingers remained stiff as I pulled down the elastic, biting back a gasp from seeing the redness covering both ass cheeks. They were a horrific shade of crimson, my bottom aching from the material scraping back and forth.

  I had to get the hell away from Christopher, or maybe just the club. While the money was incredible, I refused to risk everything I’d worked so hard to achieve, only to have it yanked away because of one horrible night. I couldn’t help but think about Christopher’s words of preaching obedience. Really?

  After ripping off my mask, I grabbed what few things I’d kept in the dressing room, my heart racing as I hurried to remove my toe shoes. I’d been a fool to think I could allow a small portion of my previous life into a situation I could barely tolerate. As I jammed them into my satchel, grabbing a few of my other things, I couldn’t stop shaking. What had I done in my life to deserve having an asshole like Aleksandr Prentikov come into my world again?

  Snagging my coat, I took a series of deep breaths as I struggled into it then stuffed my street clothes into my bag, also grabbing what little makeup I’d shoved into one of the shared drawers. There was nothing else left that mattered. Maybe slinking out wasn’t in my best interest, but I couldn’t risk having Aleksandr follow me. I adored my little house, was working hard on renovating various portions when I had the time and money.

  Fuck this world.

  To hell with the money.

  I’d take a job at McDonald’s to make up the difference.