Billionaire’s Abandoned Sex Slave

Ophelia’s POV

I strolled into “Strip and ride” with my heart drumming violently in my chest as a wave of nostalgia hit me.

I gulped harshly as I sighted a middle-aged, bald man who was standing in the lobby with his phone placed against his ear.

The man’s gaze met with mine and instantly, I knew he was the man who called me the day before–Salvador Diego.

I nodded at him as his eyes doubled in size in recognition before he crossed the hallway and walked towards me with a clipped smile.

“Ophelia Alvarez?” He asked, outstretching his hand for a handshake.

“Yes,” I shook his hand and quickly slipped my hand away from his as if it was a fiery furnace that burnt my skin.

“Ryan has arrived. He arrived a few minutes ago, and I told him everything that you said yesterday. He had agreed to stay away if you don’t accept his offer,” Rodrigo told me as he led me to the private room where Ryan was in.

Ryan, just the thought of the man’s name made me quiver in my stance. For an unknown reason, I felt nervous to meet him again, I couldn’t explain why either.

I hadn’t felt as nervous as I currently did even on the day I had taken my college entrance examination.

“Go in, now. I’ll join you both in a few minutes,” Salvador said, and I nodded and clasped my hands tighter in my front.

He nodded and patted my back gently before he walked away.

I took a deep sigh, willing my nervousness and anxiety away before I knocked gently on the door.

“Come in,” Ryan’s husky voice came, and I felt a tingly feeling in my stomach as his sexy timbre boomed in my chest.

“Snap out of it, Ophelia,” I scolded myself, and shook my head before I pushed the door open, and trekked into the room.

It was a dimly-lit room that had an amber chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The room was relatively empty, safe for two burgundy leather sofas, a drink table, and a stripper pole which was rooted in front of the sofa where Ryan’s menacing form was seated.

I averted my gaze from the objects in the room and focused on Ryan as I stood awkwardly next to the empty sofa. I tried not to make it too obvious that I was gaping at him as I steered my stare from him, and a tense silence ensued between us.Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Ryan was clad in a grey, three-piece Italian suit, with a white dress shirt worn underneath. A black silken tie was neatly knotted around his neck, with a handkerchief of the same color and material neatly placed into his breast pocket, coupled with a pearl tie brooch, clipped onto the tie which added class and glamor but in a subtle way to the plainness of his tie.

His black hair was slicked back as usual, and it accentuated the sharpness of his piercing, grey eyes which were fixated on my face as he crossed his arms around his chest.

Ryan oozed an uncommon type of charisma. It was obvious that he knew how gorgeous he was, and that made him even sexier to me.

“Take your seat, Ophelia,” He motioned to the other leather sofa which was placed opposite him.

I didn’t know whether the Air conditioner in the room suddenly stopped working at that moment when my name was softly called by Ryan in his deep, gravelly voice.

I could feel my cheeks heating up as I nodded with my eyes rooted to the floor, and took my seat on the sofa.

“So, I’m here now, ” I started when I had composed myself as I stared into his eyes, not wanting to seem too flustered by him.

“I can see that, Ophelia,” He chuckled.

At that moment, I was inwardly grateful to my parents for naming me after a moon because the way Ryan pronounced my name made me feel giddy, and my insides tingled with butterflies.

“What would you like to drink? A bottle of beer or a glass of red wine?” He asked, and I shook my head.

No, I didn’t want to drink with him.

I was only there to listen to his offer and the sensual tone with which he used to call my name.

“I want you to be my sex slave,” Ryan blurted, and instantly, I choked on air and started coughing violently as I patted my chest to stabilize myself.

What the fuck had I just heard? A what? A sex what? Was this man in his right mind? What gave him the audacity to casually say something so obscene?

“Are you okay?” He asked, getting up from his chair to pat my back, and immediately after, he patted my back, my coughing fits stopped as I breathed in his natural masculine scent tinged with the aroma of his musky, bergamot cologne.

Fuck, even his scent reeked sexiness and wealth.

When he withdrew his touch from my back and took his seat, I almost purred in a complaint but I got a grip on myself and sat stiff and upright as I mulled over his earlier utterance which caused me to have an abrupt coughing fit.

Ahah! He wanted me to be his sex slave. Ryan Torres, the buyer of my virginity wanted me to be his sex slave. A voice in my head chanted the statement like a mantra.

Should I feel honored that he wanted me? I thought to myself as I mentally wrestled with my thoughts for a reasonable response to him.

“Why?” My stupid mouth moved on its own to ask such a dumb question, which I instantly regretted and clamped my mouth shut to search for a logical statement.

Internally, I was freaking out as I thought of it.

“What do you mean why? I want your body to be mine and mine only. Ever since I had a taste of you, I can’t seem to get you out of my head,” Ryan confessed, holding my stare.

His vulgar statement made a thrilling shiver race down my spine as my cheeks flushed.

How could he utter such an obscene statement without batting an eyelid?

“So, I want to own you. I don’t want you with anybody else. I will pay you well for your services, money is not a problem for me at all, as long as you become mine,” He said, causing my breath to hitch in my throat.

I was supposed to be creeped out by his lewd and obsessive utterance but here I was squirming on the sofa, and suppressing the urge to giggle in excitement.

“I-I don’t know about this, Ryan. I-I don’t think I want to accept this. I only agreed to sell myself to you that night because of an emergency which has been sorted out now, so I don’t need your money anymore,” I managed to respond to him without stuttering in my speech but I couldn’t hold his intense gaze anymore, so I stared at the wall behind him.

“Oh? You don’t want me? Don’t worry, I’m not going to force an answer out of you right now, I’ll give you a week to think about it, petal,” Ryan suggested, and I blushed at the pet name.

Petal. It made me feel warm.

But, I got a grip on myself and shook myself out of my sweet reverie.

“Even if you give me a year to think about it, I don’t want it. I don’t want to have anything to do with you, Ryan,” I snapped at him, inwardly cringing at how weak my refusal sounded.

In response, Ryan just chuckled and crossed his arms once more as his ashen eyes drilled literal holes into my face.

“You know one thing I noticed about you?” Ryan asked me, averting his gaze from me to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

“What?” I asked.

“Your mouth often lies but your eyes tell the truth, just like that night,” His eyes darkened as he stared at me again, and instantly, I wet my panties with desire as he stared lustfully at me.

I cleared my throat but I didn’t say anything to defend myself.

What could I even say? It was obvious that I was somewhat curious about how it’d feel like to be his sex slave, seeing how I had soiled my panties with arousal.

I was too far gone in my thoughts that I didn’t realize Ryan had gotten up from his seat and his face was now dangerously close to mine. It was only when he cupped my jaw with his hand and made me look up at him that cognition dawned on me and I let out a surprised yelp.

“So, Ophelia. Let me repeat myself, I will give you a week to think carefully about my offer, okay?” He whispered, hovering his lips over mine as he stared into my eyes.

“Y-yes, okay,” I croaked, and nodded fervently.

“Good girl,” He chuckled, releasing my jaw.

I almost moaned at the praise, and instinctively, I closed my eyes as I waited for his lips to capture mine, ignoring the rules that I had set in my heart that I’d only allow my lips to be claimed by my true love.

“You may leave now. You have work at the strip club, don’t you?” His voice came into my eyes, forcing me to open my eyes in shock.

He was now seated on the sofa, with a glass of iced whiskey in his hand.

“How do you know about me?” I asked.

“You don’t have to worry your little head over that, petal. I have my ways,” He smiled wryly.

“I-I’ll be on my way then,” I said and got up from the sofa.

Suppressing the urge to dart a backward glance at him, I exited the room with soaked panties and my heart slamming violently against my ribs.

What the hell had just happened?