At His Mercy: The Billionaire's Beck and Call, Part 2 (A BDSM Erotic Romance)

At His Mercy
(The Billionaire’s Beck & Call, Part 2)

By
Delilah Fawkes

“Isabeau!
Get in here this instant!”

A shiver
of anticipation raced down my spine and I allowed myself time for a smile
before jumping up from my desk. This was the second time Mr. Drake called me
into his office today, and from his tone, he sounded like he was about to lose
it. Just as I’d planned.

I eased
open the mahogany door and slipped inside, checking my hair to make sure it
hadn’t escaped its chignon. Mr. Drake sat on the edge of his desk facing the
doorway, perched like a bird of prey. His wavy hair was perfectly in place, but
his green eyes had a wild look behind them, like I was trying his last nerve.

And maybe
I was.

“Come
here.” His voice was dangerously low.

I walked toward
him slowly, suddenly feeling nervous. What if my plan backfired? What if
instead of punishing me like last time, he just fired me instead? I swallowed,
my mouth suddenly drier than a cotton ball.

I stopped
a couple of feet away from him, but he crooked his finger, beckoning me closer.
I gulped and complied, moving forward until we were eye to eye, his gaze boring
into me. He was so close now that I could smell the fresh scent of his
aftershave just inches from my nose.

“What,” he
said, “Is this?”

He thrust
a piece of paper in front of me, and I suppressed a smirk. The copy I’d made of
the boardroom minutes was off center, the edge cut off in a way I knew was
making him crazy. Mr. Drake was nothing if not a control freak.

“It’s the
copy you asked for,” I said, innocently.

He
grimaced before crumpling the copy into a tight ball.

“This is
not the standard of work I require,
Isabeau
,
and I think you know that. Where the hell is your head today?”

He grabbed
my hand, making me jump, and shoved the wad of paper into it.

“Get this
out of my sight and do it again. RIGHT, this time!”

I waited
another moment, hoping he’d say something else, but he just stared at me like I
was an idiot.

“Don’t
make me repeat myself,” he growled, and stood, towering over me.

“Yes,
Sir,” I said, and high tailed it out of there.

I sighed
as I recopied the minutes, feeling the sting of embarassment coloring my cheeks
as I thought about my gorgeous boss. I’d hoped if I provoked him, he’d lose
control again and ask me to bend over his desk, like he had just one week ago.
It had been one of the hottest experiences of my life, being totally at his
mercy as he spanked my ass red and brought me to orgasm… All because I was
naughty and needed to be punished.

But where
was my punishment now? He said it would never happen again, but I couldn’t
accept it, not after what had passed between us. I bit my lip anxiously,
replaying our interactions over the past few days in my head. He had been
nothing but purely professional, if a little gruff at times.

He was
still Chase Drake, demanding billionaire CEO, after all, even if he did have
one indescretion with his lowly assistant. Maybe that’s all I was to him. A
replaceable toy that he would never stoop to sleep with, much less date. Now
that he’d had his fun, he’d cast me aside.

Who was I kidding? Maybe he was serious when he said he’d never touch
me like that again. Never lose control.

I handed
him the fresh copy with his afternoon coffee, and he didn’t so much as look at
me. My heart clenched in my chest, but I kept my chin high, and my eyes
impassive as I backed out and took my spot at my desk.

It was
like he’d already forgotten that anything had happened.

And maybe you should, too, Isa. Don’t get
involved. It was a terrible idea from the start, messing around with the boss.

I sighed
and lay my head down on the wood, hoping against hope that the clock would
speed up and the day would end. And that maybe, I could forget what happened,
too.

***

“Isa…”

I awoke to
a gentle hand on my shoulder. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The room
was dim, the lights out, and only the rays of the street light cast a glow
through the window. I realized my head was on something hard, and raised up,
moaning softly as my back popped. I had a crick in my neck and rubbed it, still
groggy and disoriented.

“You fell
asleep at your desk.”

My eyes
widened at the familiar, low voice. Chase Drake was kneeling down next to me,
his cufflink gleaming in the beam of light, his face cast in shadow. I knew he
was watching me carefully, even though I couldn’t see his expression.

“I… I’m
sorry… I must be a mess.”

My hand
flew to my hair, trying desperately to smooth down flyaways, but it was
hopeless. My bun had come undone, my curls spilling down over my shoulder on
one side.

He grabbed
my wrist, stopping me.

“Isabeau.
Stop.”

His touch
made me shiver, and a feeling of dread welled up inside of me. I couldn’t
believe I’d fallen asleep here and let him find me like this. This was beyond
making a crappy copy or forgetting cream in his coffee. This was inexcusable. I
hung my head.

“Look at
me.”

His voice
was almost a whisper, but sounded everything like a command. I raised my eyes
as he moved closer, into the light. Instead of the anger I’d expected, his eyes
held an unexpected tenderness.

“You look
beautiful,” he said, smoothing the hair out of my eyes.

I sucked
in a breath, unsure how to react. Was I in trouble? Or not?

His hand
lingered in my hair, teasing my curls around his fingers. My heart was thumping
so loudly, I wondered if he could hear the effect he had on me.

“Mr.
Drake?”

He stood
abruptly, pulling me up with him.

“It’s
late. Let me drive you.”

“But, I…
It’s so much trouble.”

He eyed me
in a strange way. “I know you take the bus, Isa. Surely, they’ve stopped running
by now.”

I looked
away again. He was just trying to be a good guy, but the fact that I was now
his burden because of my slip up was too much.

“You don’t
have to do that, Mr. Drake. I can get myself home just fine. It’s my fault for
falling asleep like that. I… I didn’t know you’d be working so late.”

“
Ms. Willcox
,” he said, his tone harsh,
but mocking. “If I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you to my car,
I’ll do it. I want you home safe, not walking home in the dark to save on cab
fare.”

My cheeks
were burning, shame welling up inside of me. He was worth more than I’d ever
see in my lifetime, hell, more than I could imagine, and here I was, poor and
alone, without enough money for cab fare. How did he know? And more
importantly, what must he think of me?

“So, I was
right.” He stared down at me frowning, a crease growing on his brow.

I ran a
hand over my face and sighed before pulling out of his grip. “I’m fine, Mr.
Drake. Really.”

I grabbed
my purse and made for the elevator, but as soon as I pushed the button, there
he was. I felt his presence like a force of nature, larger than life behind me.
I didn’t turn around, daring myself to stand tall, despite the embarrassment I
felt like a sock to the gut.

The doors
slid open, and we stepped through together. There was silence on the ride down
to the lobby, but I could feel his eyes on me, assessing me coolly like I was a
puzzle he was trying to figure out.

When the
bell chimed and the doors slid open again, I yelped as I found myself lifted
off my feet. Mr. Drake slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and
I held on for dear life.

“I warned
you what would happen if you tried to walk home, Isabeau. I was very clear.
You’re coming with me, and I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

I hung
there in shock as he began walking toward the parking lot, bobbing with each
step, wondering whether I should laugh or cry. Was my gorgeous boss really
carrying me away like a cave man? What the hell?

“I’m fine!
Really!” I squeaked, trying not to stare at his sculpted ass, which was
conveniently at eye level.

A hard
swat came down on my rear, and I gasped.

“That’s
just about enough of that, Isa. Don’t
ever
lie to me.”

“But…”

He spanked
me again, and my pussy heated, despite the furious blush on my face and the twinge
of anger coursing through me at being treated this way. I was a grown woman! I
can take care of myself, even if it did mean walking the four miles to my
place… in the dark… in heels. It was my business, and mine alone.

“Enough.
One more word out of you before we’re in the car, and I’ll spank your ass raw
right here in public. Is that what you want?”

I opened
my mouth to protest, then shut it, sensing the trap.

“Very
good,” he said, chuckling.

He carried
me as if I weighed nothing, moving steadily to the executive lot where his
Bentley sat, gleaming black beneath the lonely street lamp. I heard the chirp
of his locks springing open, and the rumble of his engine as he remote started
it.

Then, the
world shifted, and I was being held tightly against him as I regained my feet.
His body was hard and warm, and, in that moment, I wanted nothing better than
to press myself up against him and let him hold me all night. I pushed away,
steadying myself.

“Hop in,”
he said.

He held
the door open for me and grinned, his twin dimples making my insides melt.

I nodded and
slid into the supple leather seat, letting him close the door behind me. I repressed
a giggle.
You never hear about a caveman
opening doors for a lady.
Mr. Drake slid behind the wheel, unbuttoning his Armani
suit jacket as he did. I couldn’t help but stare for a moment at this man, my
boss, who cared so much about me making it home safe.

The door
clicked shut, and we were off. We sat in silence for a while as he merged onto
the freeway, the lights of the city flickering by like fire flies on a hot
summer night. I sat back in the seat, loving the feel of the leather on my
skin, before my stomach rumbled loudly, making me wish I could sink into it and
disappear.

“Are you
hungry?” Mr. Drake glanced over at me and grinned. When I didn’t respond, he
added, “You can talk now, you know.”

I smiled
into the darkness. “A bit. I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“I’m
starving, too. Hang on. I know a place.”

Before I
could protest, he was exiting, moving toward downtown, away from my apartment.
I realized that I never told him where I lived. Where had he been taking me?

We pulled
up to a restaurant whose name I couldn’t pronounce, and he opened the car door
for me once again before tossing his keys to the valet. Yep. There was a
freaking
valet
at this place. I
looked down at my work clothes and chewed my lip. Mr. Drake was already at the
door, holding it for me, looking at me with a raised eyebrow.

The maitre
de smiled and shook Mr. Drake’s hand before ushering him to “his table.” It was
my turn to raise an eyebrow as I looked around the place. The lights were low
and candles flickered on every table. The walls were covered in gorgeous
polished wood with art work hanging in lighted niches. I’d never been to a
restaurant like this, and suddenly, I was glad for the dim lighting. I stuck
out like a sore thumb.

I ran my
hands through my hair, trying to smooth it out now that it was down, before Mr.
Drake caught my hand. His eyes seemed to be looking through me before he pulled
my chair out and gestured for me to sit. He sat down before letting me go, his
hand lingering on mine.

“Are you
uncomfortable here?”

His
question caught me off guard. Was I that obvious?

“A
little,” I said. “I’m not dressed for it.” I glanced down at the menu, and
swallowed hard. “And I don’t think I can afford it,” I ended, my voice just
above a whisper.

Mr. Drake
laughed, and I stared at him in surprise.

“No one
cares what you’re wearing, Isabeau. You’re with me.” He leaned in, the angles
of his face accentuated by the candlelight. “And when you’re with me, it’s my
treat. I thought that much was obvious.”

Relief
flooded me, and I sat back with a long exhale. “Thank you, Sir.”

There was
a strange light in his eyes at the word ‘Sir,’ but as soon as I saw it, it was
gone, and he was leaning comfortably back, looking at the menu. Had I imagined
it?

“My
pleasure. Now, tell me, Isabeau. Have you ever had foie gras?”

***