Page 19

CHAPTER 19

CORA

T he riverboat’s polished wooden floors creak faintly under my heels as I step inside, the exhaustion from the shareholder meeting already melting away. The familiar scent of mahogany and something faintly metallic—Orion’s scent—welcomes me. I drop my bag by the door, the weight of the day slipping off my shoulders.

“Orion, are you home yet?” My voice echoes through the grand foyer. The chandeliers catch the last rays of the setting sun, casting the room in a warm, golden glow. “I’m finally done with the meeting.”

Out of the shadows, he steps forward, his golden scales shimmering like molten metal. The red light of the sun catches the edges of his ridges, making him look like something out of a dream—or a fantasy. His purple eyes lock onto mine, that sultry, predatory look that always makes my knees weak.

“On your knees.” His voice, low and commanding, sends a shiver down my spine.

I don’t hesitate. I sink to the floor, the cool wood pressing against my knees. The thrill of submission courses through me, my heart pounding in my chest. He strides forward, each step deliberate, until he’s towering over me. His hand brushes through my hair, fingers tangling gently, possessively. I lean into his touch, my lips brushing against the fabric of his pants, feeling the heat of him, the growing hardness beneath.

“My girl did a good job today,” he purrs, his voice dripping with approval.

I can’t help but smile, my cheeks flushing. “Thank you, Sir,” I murmur, nuzzling against him.

“So I’m taking you dancing.”

My head snaps up, eyes wide. “Dancing?” The word comes out breathless, excited.

He chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through me. “Yes, dancing. But first—” His fingers tighten in my hair, pulling just enough to make me gasp. “We need to get you dressed.”

He tugs me to my feet, not giving me a moment to steady myself. I stumble after him, his grip in my hair firm but not painful.

“Strip,” he commands, his voice sharp, leaving no room for argument.

I fumble with the buttons of my blouse, my fingers trembling with anticipation. The fabric slides off my shoulders, pooling at my feet. My skirt follows, then my heels. His eyes never leave me, that intense stare making me feel like I’m the only thing in the universe that matters.

By the time we reach the bedroom, I’m down to my bra and panties, both of them black lace because I’d hoped this day would end like this. His hand releases my hair, and I turn to face him, my chest rising and falling with quick, shallow breaths.

“Good girl,” he says, his voice softening just enough to make my heart swell.

“Turn. Hands on the wall.” Orion’s voice is low, commanding, and I obey without hesitation. The cool plaster presses against my palms as I brace myself, shivering as I feel the heat of him behind me. The rustle of leather fills the air, and then the smooth, firm touch of a corset encircles my waist. “Breathe in.”

I inhale deeply, my ribs expanding as he tightens the laces. The pressure is firm, unyielding, but not painful—just enough to remind me of his control. My back straightens instinctively, the corset forcing my posture into something elegant, something refined. I feel the tug of each lace, the deliberate tightening, until I’m perfectly bound. “How does it feel?” His breath is warm against my ear.

“Perfect, Sir,” I murmur, my voice shaky with anticipation. I can still move, still dance, but I’ll be acutely aware of the constriction all night. Just as he intended.

He kneels behind me, his hands sliding down my legs as he rolls stockings up my thighs. The soft material clings to my skin, held in place by delicate garters. I hear the click of heels before I feel them, the straps wrapping around my ankles and calves. “These stay on,” he commands. The sound of padlocks snapping into place sends a flush of heat to my cheeks. Most people won’t notice, but those who do will understand exactly what it means.

His hands drift up to my neck, fastening a black leather choker with a red ruby pendant. The leather is snug, the weight of the jewel pressing just enough to remind me of his claim on me. “Now this.” He holds the gown up, and I turn to face him. The fabric is sleek, black, and scandalously minimal. The plunging neckline and high slits on both sides leave little to the imagination. “Step in.”

I do as he says, my heart racing as he helps me into the dress. The fabric glides over my skin, the corset and stockings hidden beneath the elegant exterior. Orion steps back to admire his work, his purple eyes raking over me with a possessive intensity. “You’re flawless.”

The limo is waiting outside, and he guides me to it with a hand on the curve of my back. The moment the door closes, his lips are on mine, his hands roaming over the exposed skin of my dress. I gasp as his fingers trace the edge of the corset, his touch sending jolts of electricity through me. He kisses me deeply, his tongue teasing mine until I’m panting, my body aching with need.

“Simmer, little beauty,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. I bite my lip, trying to calm the storm he’s stirred inside me. The limo pulls up to the dance hall, and he takes my hand, leading me inside with the confidence of a man who knows he owns the room—and the woman on his arm.

The moment his hand settles on my back, I’m electrified. Orion’s grip is firm, possessive, and his body against mine is intoxicating. The orchestra begins, the first strains of the tango filling the grand hall with a sultry rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart. He leads with confidence, his steps precise, his movements commanding. I follow, my body melding to his as if we’ve danced this way a thousand times before.

Our eyes lock, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. The press of his thigh against mine is deliberate, his dominance undeniable. I feel the hard muscles of his legs, the strength in his arms as he spins me, my body arching in perfect sync with his. The music builds, and so does the tension between us.

He dips me low, his hand sliding down to grip my thigh, the slit in my dress making the move scandalously exposing. I flush, the heat of embarrassment mixing with the thrill of his dominance. “Relax, Cora,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. “Let them look. They’ll never have what’s mine.”

The words ignite something deep inside me, and I lean into his hold, letting him guide me through the dance with abandon. He lifts me effortlessly, my body spinning through the air, the fabric of my dress catching the light and revealing far too much. I hear the sharp intake of breath from the audience, the whispers, the murmurs. Yet, I don’t care. All I care about is the way he’s looking at me, the way his hands feel on my skin, the way he’s pushing me to the edge of control.

The music crescendos, and he dips me again, his lips brushing against my ear. “I’m going to fuck you hard, Cora. Right fucking now.”

My gasp is swallowed by the applause, the clapping and cheers echoing in my ears as he pulls me upright. His grip on my hand is firm, unyielding, and I stumble slightly as he drags me off the dance floor.

“Orion,” I whisper, my voice trembling with a mix of desperation and anticipation.

“Not here,” he growls. He pulls me through the crowd, his stride purposeful, his presence commanding.

The heat between us is unbearable, the ache in my body undeniable. I can’t wait to feel him, to give myself over to him completely. He stops briefly, his hand tightening around mine as he glances back at me, his eyes dark with desire.

“Ready, little beauty?”

“Always, Sir,” I reply, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

He smirks, a predatory glint in his eyes, and pulls me forward again, leading us to whatever private sanctuary he has in mind. The promise in his words, the fire in his touch—I’m ready.

The alcove is cramped—just deep enough for coats and scarves, not meant for this. My back presses against a fur-collared winter jacket, the scent of cedar and old wool thick in the air. The muffled orchestra still hums through the walls, the distant chatter of guests barely audible over my hammering pulse.

"There's no door," I hiss as Orion crowds me against the wall. His hands are already pulling at the slit of my dress, shoving the fabric up my thighs.

His teeth scrape my neck. "Then you'll have to be quiet." The thrill of his words knots low in my stomach.

A laugh echoes from the hall. Close.. "Orion—someone could—mmph!"

The belt from a trench coat whips free in his hands, the leather cool as he loops it around my wrists. I test the restraint instinctively, but he knots it tight—just shy of painful.

"What are you—" The ball gag clicks between my teeth before I finish, its smooth rubber filling my mouth. The strap pricks at the nape of my neck as he fastens it.

He spins me to face the wall, one hand flattening between my shoulder blades. "Don't move." His voice is a dark promise.

The rasp of his zipper is obscenely loud. Then his fingers dig into my hips, yanking me back onto him with one brutal thrust. I choke around the gag, my knees buckling—but he holds me up, his grip iron. He doesn't pause, doesn't give me time to adjust, just fucks me like he’s claiming territory.

Fabric rustles. Footsteps. I stiffen. "God—someone’s—" The words dissolve into muffled whimpers as he slams into me deeper.

His palm slaps over my gagged mouth. "Breathe through your nose, little beauty." His hips snap forward again, forcing a broken noise from my throat. The heat of him, the stretch—every thrust vibrates through me like a live wire.

The footsteps pause just beyond the alcove. My entire body tenses, but Orion doesn’t stop. His teeth sink into my shoulder, stifling my gasp. The intruder hesitates—then walks on.

Laughter bubbles in my chest, wild and giddy. He’s going to kill me. Destroy me. And I’m grinning around the gag.

My climax rips through me suddenly, violently. My legs give out entirely, but Orion doesn’t let me fall. He pins me to the wall with his body, still buried inside me, his breath ragged at my ear.

"You're in for a long night, Cora."

His fingers twist in my hair, tilting my head back. I’m still trembling, still wrecked, but all I can think is: Good.

The ball gag slips from my mouth with a soft pop , and I gasp, my jaw aching slightly. Orion’s blazer drapes over my shoulders, the fabric warm and heavy, hiding the fact that my wrists are still bound behind my back. His arm snakes around me, possessive and protective, as he guides me out of the alcove and into the glittering chaos of the dance hall. The music swells, the crowd oblivious to the storm raging between us.

“Keep walking,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, his hand firm on my shoulder. I do as I’m told, my legs still shaky, my body humming with the aftermath of what just happened. The slit in my dress shifts with each step, the fabric sliding dangerously low. I feel the cool air on my skin before I realize what’s happened.

“Orion,” I hiss. My left breast is exposed, the curve of it catching the light. I can’t cover myself—my hands are still tied. I glance up at him, my cheeks burning, but he doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes smolder, dark and hungry, but he doesn’t stop to fix my dress. Instead, he keeps walking, his grip on me unyielding.

“Let them look,” he growls, his voice a rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. “They’ll never have what’s mine.”

I bite my lip, a mix of embarrassment and arousal twisting in my stomach. His hand slides down to my ass, groping me firmly as we reach the exit. The doorman gives us a polite nod, his eyes flicking to my exposed skin for just a moment before he looks away. Orion doesn’t care. He doesn’t stop. He just keeps moving, his dominance radiating off him like heat.

The limo is waiting, the door already open. Orion helps me inside, his hand lingering on my hip as I slide across the leather seat. He follows, the door closing behind him with a soft thud . The partition is up, the driver already knowing better than to look.

Orion unzips his fly, the sound sharp in the quiet of the limo. His cock springs free, already hard, and he looks at me with that same predatory gaze. “Get to work,” he says, his voice rough with need.

I don’t hesitate. I lean forward, my lips brushing the tip of him, tasting the salt of his skin. His hand tangles in my hair, guiding me, but I don’t need it. I’m determined to give him the best head he’s ever had, even with my hands bound behind my back. I lick his balls, savoring the way he groans, his hips twitching as I take him deeper.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice thick with pleasure. His fingers tighten in my hair, urging me on. I take as much of him as I can, my throat working around his length until I’m choking, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. He lets out a low growl, his release hitting the back of my throat, and I swallow every drop, my body trembling with the effort.

When I pull back, he’s watching me, his eyes dark and satisfied. He caresses my cheek, his thumb brushing over my lips. “Good girl,” he says again, his voice softer now. “Now that the preamble is done, we can get to the main event.”

I grin up at him, my body still humming with anticipation. “I’m not getting any sleep tonight, am I?” I ask, my voice teasing but happy.

He smirks, his hand sliding down to my thigh. “Not a chance, little beauty.”