When Isabeau reveals to Mr. Drake that she's not ready to be his slave, he refuses to share his bed with her, giving her time to think about what she really wants. Will she let fear get in the way of the best thing that's ever happened to her?
When she decides to take a leap of faith, he's one step ahead of her, sending a car to bring her to him as his date to an extravagant party, with one thing in mind: punishing her for her lack of trust in a way that will make her squirm.
Will Isabeau succumb to fear, or will she finally give Mr. Drake the control he desires?
This 5900 word story is the fourth part of the "Billionaire's Beck and Call" series by best selling erotica and romance author, Delilah Fawkes.
But I had to admit, the thought of wearing this in front of a room full of strangers made my body tingle and my pulse race. It would be a secret only the two of us knew about, and if I judged him right, he'd have the control to flip the switch and turn it on whenever he pleased, controlling my body beneath everyone's noses, and no one the wiser.
Unless I screwed up and let my feelings show.
I bit my lip, fear and excitement warring within me. I'd show him just how cool I could be. I wouldn't disappoint him.
I took a deep breath at the top of the winding main staircase, steeling myself.
You can do this, Isabeau. Just breathe.
I held onto the handrail and moved down the steps carefully, my core squeezing around the egg beneath my new lace panties. I still couldn't believe I was doing this, but the thought of Mr. Drake somewhere below, waiting to turn me on was almost too much to bear. I felt like I was on fire for him, and I hadn't even seen him yet.
I turned the corner, and the foyer opened up beneath me. Guests in expensive suits and glamorous dresses mingled below, diamonds catching the light on necks and wrists everywhere I looked.
I wanted to stop walking. I wanted to turn around and retreat to the safety of my room, or maybe lock myself in the bathroom and climb out the window. I felt like such an imposter wearing these clothes, tresspassing on this life... Would they be able to tell? Would just one look give me away?
I hesitated, my hand hovering over the banister, before I saw him. He was standing near the bar, a glass of scotch in one hand, the other tucked nonchalantly in his jacket pocket, talking to several gentlemen. Intense, green eyes locked on mine, and for a moment, everything else melted away.
The egg roared to life inside me.
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