Wild Desire; Billionaire Little Submissive

Bianca POV I walked down the rainy and lonely path leading to my best friend Spencer place, not caring about the rain pouring down my body and wetting me up in a way my boyfriend could never. My boy friend had just broken up with me over the phone and I was heartbroken, perhaps not very much so but it did hurt me. His reasons? I never responded to his touches well enough and never melted in his arms like I should. He claimed I never let him touch me enough too. Just once I had let him touch me and his remark? I was dry as desert and anything he did would hurt.

That was just a week ago and today he had broken up with me, giving me one advice... To become a nun for the rest of my life as I was too insensitive to a man's touch. I was mad at how much he had shamed my body. It wasn't a lie that I couldn't get wet with him but I knew that was not entirely my fault. It could not be my fault. I had to be seductively attracted to some type of people but I had no idea what type of people I could be attracted to. At a point, I had thought maybe I wasn't straight but that wasn't the case. I was straight but I was hardly aroused by my now ex-boyfriend. I got to my best friend place and the guard at the gate let me in without a word, probably because everyone knew that we were close and I’m always welcome here.. “Mr. Johnson is waiting for you.” A maid, who I had never met before, opened the door of the mansion. The guard looked at me and politely smiled, “Follow me, please.” Spencer Johnson, my best friend, and his family had a large house in New Jersey, only forty minutes away from Manhattan. Spencer and I were both sophomores at NYU, and since his place wasn’t too far away from our university, I’d occasionally stop by to spend time with him. As my footsteps echoed in the hall, however, my best friend Spencer warning echoed in my head. Although I tried to ignore it, it kept coming back. ‘I walked in on your boyfriend kissing another woman in the parking lot of a five star restaurant yesterday.’ Spencer’s words repeated like they were on a broken record, and I shivered. I knew how many times Spencer I’ve warned me about him. I had to remind Spencer that he only saw them from far away and it was likely that it was someone who looked like him. My boyfriend Rex wasn’t the type to be unfaithful like he had said, was he? No, there was no way he was. He loves me a lot. He was such a gentleman and didn’t entertain other women when he was around them, including my sister Eve, whom every guy seemed to be attracted to. She was beautiful, sexy, and mature. Only Spencer and my boyfriend was different. My boyfriend Rex said that he loved my kind and innocent personality, and that we were made for each other. He was so special to me and he always said I was perfect for him. Then where did I get wrong. Is it my fault that he couldn’t get me wet? I envisioned a long, happy life with him, that’s why I had just convinced my family to invest in his new start-up business. I really wanted to support him after how hard he’d been working on it, and he even said that he wanted to build a company that he could pass on to our future children one day. I believed him. I loved how he had our future planned out, but i never knew I was being deceive. I’ve done a lot for him to end our relationship this way. It’s not fair and it hurt badly. As the maid led me through the long hallways, I realized how confusing the mansion was even though I had been here a few times. I had always thought that it reminded me of a fine arts museum with its cavernous hallways, its marble columns and chiseled busts of famous gods and goddesses. Sometimes I wondered whether Spencer was the only one from his family living in this house. It just seemed awfully big for just one person. However, I didn’t want to pry. I once asked Spencer about his parents, but he mentioned he didn’t get along well with them. Ever since then, I have avoided the topic. I walked with the maid up the massive and dark mahogany staircase, hearing our shoes echo on the hardwood steps around us. Suddenly, once we turned through another archway, I felt like something was wrong. This wasn’t the wing that I was used to with its dark gray walls and black wainscoting when I visited Spencer. I was usually taken to the west wing, but I was being led to the east: a part of the mansion that Spencer had told me to ignore more times than I could count. I wondered why he suddenly changed his mind and instructed the maid to bring me here. My art museum analogy was spot on, as in this wing the walls were full of romantic art pieces that depicted couples intertwined in ways that I had only shamefully fantasized about. They were a bit more…revealing than I was used to, however. As we walked farther and farther down the hallway, and the windows were replaced by dull wall sconces, I felt a bit unsettled. I swallowed hard and peered at the maid with a polite smile, “Not to be rude, but are you sure he is over on this side?” "Yes, Mr. Johnson is waiting for you in the room at the end of the corridor." She was so certain that I trusted her over my own feelings. After all, this was Spencer house, he was free to choose whichever room he wanted to stay in. We reached a dark wooden door that was different from the rest in the home. The maid took a step back and left me alone, excusing herself with a gentle bow. Although we’d been friends since childhood, it wasn’t often for me to come over here at a late hour. For some reason, I was a bit nervous, but I told myself it was nonsense. I was heart broken and just needed someone I can talk with. I turned the shiny brass handle and opened the door. The room was dimly lit and had a strong fragrance of vanilla and spice candles. I squinted my eyes and waited for them to adjust to the dark room, wondering what Spencer had been up to. How did he even know I will be coming here at this late hour? When my eyes became accustomed to everything, I was stunned by what I saw. This wasn’t what I had in mind. The wallpaper was matte black with embossed fleur-de-lis, and a massive, wooden, crimson ‘X’ with black leather padding leaning against the far wall grabbed my attention. My gaze wandered over the lavish furniture with metallic hardware and leather upholstery. Two types of whips in various shades of red and black hung on the pegs of custom-made, mahogany shelving units along with various types of paddles, bars, restraints, and more. There were soft-bundled, black, nylon ropes hung on the far wall, framing a classical art piece of two lovers, ready to tie someone up with. Nothing about this room screamed my best friend. My face started to burn and my heart started to race. I needed to get out of here. An unsettling bubbling sensation rose through my stomach and made me want to run far away. This wasn’t for my eyes to see. Suddenly, my heart pounded in my ears as the feeling of someone glancing over my body, surveying and taking note of my every breath and my faintest movement, branded me. Sweat glistened on my skin and ran down my back as my breathing picked up even more. The room felt like it was spinning, and I knew I wasn’t alone. It didn’t feel like my best friend was in here though. It felt darker, more intimidating. Like a predator, stalking, and waiting to pounce on its prey. “Come,” a dark, deep, growling voice suddenly caressed my ears, causing me to jump with a squeak as a low and solid command dropped into the silence, “I’ve been waiting for you.”