The Billionaire Dark Desires

Chapter Three: Escort Services

Noah arrived at the escort agency’s main office straight from his bartending shift, exhaustion weighing down on his shoulders.

The moment he stepped in, his boss, a middle-aged woman with a sharp office wear and an even sharper tongue, was already waiting for him behind her sleek black desk. The dimly lit office smelled of expensive perfume and cigars, the atmosphere always carrying a sense of controlled power.

The woman leaned back in his chair, lacing her fingers together. “I have a special request for you, Noah.”

Noah wiped a hand down his face, suppressing a yawn. “How special are we talking?”

“Its Ten Grand as I told you but there’s a condition,” his boss continued, flipping through a sleek folder before sliding it across the desk. “The client specifically requested BDSM.”

Noah’s stomach twisted slightly. b**m? He had done a lot in this line of work entertaining men and women, fulfilling their needs in whatever way they paid him for but he had never been involved in that world. He knew what it entailed, had seen glimpses of it through past clients who mentioned their kinks, but experiencing it himself? That was new territory.

“b**m,” Noah echoed, carefully neutral.

“Yes. And another thing ” His boss tapped a finger against the folder. “You’re meeting him at his penthouse, not a hotel.”

That made Noah pause. “His penthouse?” Most high-profile clients preferred discretion, always booking hotels or private suites at clubs, never their actual homes. It was a rule in this business never mix your personal world with these encounters.

“Yes. You’ll comply with everything, Noah. The client is extremely wealthy, influential, and demands perfection. I don’t want complaints.”

Noah inhaled sharply, staring at the crisp piece of paper in front of him. The money was tempting more than he had ever been offered before. He had survived on this job because he needed to, because life had never been kind enough to give him an alternative. This was how he kept himself afloat, how he paid for college, how he ensured he wouldn’t end up on the streets.

“I’ll do it,” he said finally.

His boss’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Good.” He passed him an envelope. “Here’s the address. You leave now.”

Noah exhaled heavily, stuffing the paper into his pocket. This was just another job. Just another client.

Yet, as he stepped into the cab and gave the driver the address, he couldn’t shake off the slight unease crawling up his spine.

A b**m ?

The ride to the penthouse felt longer than it should have. The city lights blurred past, neon streaks reflecting against the glass. Noah tapped his fingers against his thigh, running through possible scenarios in his head.

He knew how to play any role a client wanted sweet, submissive, seductive, even dominant when necessary. But b**m was different. It required control, surrender, and clear boundaries. He wasn’t sure what this man would demand, what his limits were, or if he could handle it.

When the cab finally pulled up in front of an exclusive high-rise, Noah paid the driver and stepped out, craning his neck to take in the sheer luxury of the place. The building towered over the street, its sleek glass exterior reflecting the city’s night glow.

Noah’s heart pounded harder as he stepped into the lobby, feeling the weight of eyes on him. The receptionist barely glanced at him before nodding toward the private elevator. No questions. No checks. Whoever this client was, they had power enough that even the staff knew not to interfere.

As the elevator doors slid open, Noah stepped inside, watching the floor numbers climb. His fingers tightened around in his pocket.

He was shaking and nervous but he had to show how confident he his in this. So he took deep breaths to calm down his nerves.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to a wide, dimly lit hallway. Noah stepped forward, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting.

Reaching the penthouse door, he took a slow, steadying breath before knocking.

The door opened almost immediately, and Noah’s breath caught in his throat.

Standing in the doorway was not the man he had expected. He had envisioned someone older, maybe in his fifties, graying at the temples with a well-fed stomach and the arrogant smirk of a man used to getting what he wanted.

Instead, the man before him was young no older than his early thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, and breathtakingly gorgeous. His sharp, sculpted jawline and deep dark black eyes locked onto Noah’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine. His dark hair was styled effortlessly, and he wore a silk black shirt with the top two buttons undone, revealing a glimpse of toned chest and a gleaming Cartier necklace resting against his collarbone.

Noah’s mouth went dry.

This wasn’t an old man with money. This was an Adonis.

For a moment, he forgot how to speak.

Then he noticed the smirk tugging at the man’s lips amused, knowing, as if he could read every single thought racing through Noah’s mind.

“You’re not what I expected,” Noah blurted out before he could stop himself.

The man’s smirk widened. “Likewise.”

His voice was deep, smooth, laced with amusement. He stepped aside, gesturing for Noah to enter.

Noah hesitated only a fraction before stepping inside. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing him in.

The penthouse was vast, open, and drowning in luxury. The walls were lined with expensive artwork, and the dim lighting cast shadows against the sleek leather furniture. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcased the city skyline, a breathtaking view stretching endlessly before them.

Noah forced himself to focus.

He turned back to the man, who was watching him with a mixture of curiosity and something darker something unreadable.

“I assume they gave you the details?” the man asked.

Noah nodded. “BDSM.”

The man’s lips curled slightly, as if amused by Noah’s attempt to sound unaffected.

He was standing in his penthouse, about to sleep with him and scared.

Noah inhaled sharply. He had dealt with wealthy men before, but this felt different. This man radiated power not just because of his money, but because of the sheer force of his presence.

He took a step closer, and Noah’s breath hitched.

“I assume you know how this works?” He asked, his voice smooth, but there was something in his gaze a silent challenge, a test.

Noah swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes.”

He's smirk deepened. “Good.”

Noah’s pulse raced as he reached for the buttons of his shirt, opening it up with practiced ease. There was a slow, deliberate air to his movements, as if he enjoyed watching Noah react.

“Let’s get started, then,” Damian Started his voice like cold and order.

The air between them was thick with tension, the unspoken promise of what was to come hanging between them like a storm waiting to break.

This was going to be something else entirely.