The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (17 page)

“One,” he whispered hoarsely. “Mistress.”

Without replying, she glided back around and took her seat on the bench. This time, she lifted her chin, pointed at her mouth and licked her lips.

A shudder rocked him but he came back to where he’d started. However, this time she didn’t lean forward or make it easy for him. He had to take another step closer and deliberately give her his cock. He kept the brush light against her mouth, each breath a shaking exhalation spreading through his body. She licked and kissed and nibbled lightly, a soft, gentle torment that made him groan in agony. His hips started the helpless thrust, but she didn’t take him fully into her mouth. Not yet.

This time when she stood up and began the pace around him, she didn’t give him any warning. Before she even got behind him, she laid another solid blow to his other cheek.

“Two.” His voice was deeper, fingers clenching and uncurling helplessly in the small of his back. Sweat dampened his hair, slicking his chest and groin. He was going to want a swim or a shower before he’d put his clothes back on.

She repeated the exact same ritual again and this time he pushed his hips toward her eagerly. His breathing matched his thrusts, soft groans slowly growing louder as his desire mounted.

Three and four passed and his thighs were quivering. She paused long enough to let him think about what was happening. What she was doing to him. Deliberately.

Dark eyes wide, he made a soft, fragile sound when she took him fully into her mouth. Those sounds turned her on more than anything, that such a big, powerful, strong man would made such a helpless sound for her. She took him deeper in a long, slow slide, savoring every inch. Only to lift her mouth off completely so she could run her tongue around the glans and trace the veins running up and down his shaft. This time, the blow she gave him was a deep, cutting one, a nice sharp crack that made him cry out harshly. His hips arched, his arms straining against his bonds.

“Pain,” she whispered, smoothing her palms over his heaving back. “For you, it’s as good as me sucking your cock. Isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he ground out.

“But not just any pain, Donovan. You need it delivered just right. You need someone who understands what it does for your body. How to balance it with the pleasure until you can’t separate them any longer. These sessions are meant to help me learn exactly where your pain and pleasure thresholds are and from what I’m seeing, you’re very close to coming. If I gave you the last blow right now, you’d be done. Game over.” She trailed her fingertips up over his shoulder as she worked her way back before him, then down his pectorals to bounce over each rib and washboard ab. “But these sessions are also meant to teach you exactly what kind of Mistress I am. Where my tolerance and sense of mercy extends and my desire to watch you suffer and squirm begins. And I have to tell you, lover boy, it makes me so wet to watch you strain to free yourself. I can’t help but picture what you’d do if you were free.”

“I’d be on you so fast…”

She smiled and wrapped her hand around the base of his cock. “You’d be fucking me in earnest. Instead, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to make your knees give out. I’m going to make you shout so loudly half a dozen boats are going to come up here to investigate, afraid someone’s getting murdered.”

Casually, she pumped him, bringing him to the very edge. His cock strained in her hand, iron hard and so hot and swollen with need it took her own control not to strip off her panties, push him down on his back, and ease both of their torment. She dropped her hand, took a step back and just watched him struggle to control himself. His face was red with effort, his eyes blazing, sweat dripping off him like she’d made him run a marathon. Every breath whistled through his clenched lips. But he held it.

“Very good, you sexy beast.”

Her words made him arch again, a low growl rattling from his chest.

“Oh, yes, growl at me. I love it. Nothing turns me on more than the soft fragile whimpers and the desperate, bossy demands my sub makes when he’s trying to get me to put him out of misery. But you’ll learn, Donovan, there’s very little that will sway me. Your safeword will. Or some form of ‘Please, Mistress, I’m begging you, I need to come so bad’. Those are the only words I want to hear. Otherwise, you can wait until I’m good and ready to let you come.”

Quivering right on the edge of release, Donovan fought to keep his mouth shut and his knees locked.

I wanted this. Remember? I ached for it. I sought her out, hunting her down and devising an entire blackmail scheme if needed to get her right here torturing me.

He couldn’t see through the sweat blinding his eyes. His throat and chest hurt from sucking in all the hot humid air and he stunk to high heaven, as rank as a prime bull in full musk. Every single mark burned like a brand in his skin until his ass felt like it was swollen and roasted by the merciless sun.

No, it’s Mistress L who’s merciless.

Sitting back down before him, she waited until he managed to control his breathing a little. The sight of her sitting there in the royal blue lingerie he’d picked for her was agony. He wanted to shred the lace from her body to reveal those lush, full breasts. He wanted her hard nipples pressed against his chest. He wanted his tongue beneath the silk covering her crotch.
If only I’d gone to my knees as soon as I saw her. Maybe she really would have let me taste her again.

He certainly didn’t want her sitting, her incredible lips and tongue in front of him ready to torment him with the softest little caresses. It also meant he wasn’t going to get the last blow anytime soon.

Staring at her mouth, it took him a moment to realize something was tickling his legs. He glanced down and saw the crop sliding between his thighs. He’d braced his feet wide apart to keep his balance on the gently swaying deck, which had unfortunately given her plenty of access to the tender skin of his inner thighs. Not to mention his balls. Of course now that she had the crop there, he didn’t dare squeeze his legs shut like a shy little virgin. His pride wouldn’t allow it. Even if she gave him the last blow on his scrotum.

“You’re so close to coming that your balls are tight to your body. I think if I licked you now, you’d give me a different kind of cream pie to sample.”

He shuddered, both horrified and turned on by the thought of coming on her face. He respected her too much to want to use her like that, yet he couldn’t deny the appeal, either.

“One of these times I’m going to have to try my three-way cock ring. It’ll keep your balls pulled away from your body while squeezing all that blood right where I want it.”

Again, a mixture of horror and searing desire flooded his mind. She’d control everything about his body, his release, even the position of his balls. It was humiliating…and so damned hot he sagged a moment before he caught himself and stiffened his legs.

The muscle in his right quadriceps cramped, a sharp, hard pain that only added to the misery.

“I even have a cock ring with a chain attached to it. Then I could lead you around like Hank. Wouldn’t that be fun? Maybe I’d take you out for a walk, too, all dressed up in your shiny collar and your cock ring. My, what a pretty picture you would make.”

He opened his mouth to retort
shut up, quit tormenting me with all these erotic, forbidden images!
But he couldn’t speak to the Mistress like that. She might be on his yacht, his domain, but here in this moment, she was the ruler of his universe. If he displeased her she’d do worse than refuse to let him come.

She’d just walk away.

The thought of the coming winter…all those long, cold nights. Alone. No warmth. The emptiness. The agony. Now that he’d had a taste of what she could give him, he couldn’t lose it. He’d go mad, a rabid dog who’d have to be put down to protect everyone around him.
I’d rather lose every dime, every building, every business, even my father and grandfather’s boats, than ever lose her.

The crop rubbed against his scrotum and higher, sliding into the crease of his ass with a deliberate bend of her wrist to angle it just so. She used enough pressure to force him up on his toes, to make him fully aware of exactly where she touched him. Leather slid and rubbed deeper, driving him insane. Nerve endings burned at the newfound stimulation. He squeezed his eyes shut, determined to last. Determined to stand up against the torment. To take it.

Like a man.

The thought dragged a choked sound from him, half laugh, half sob.

Her free arm came around his waist and she rubbed her face against his stomach. She had enough pity for him that she was careful not to touch his cock, but her cheek and mouth against his stomach was almost as bad. Her hand kneaded his ass cheek again. He couldn’t recall a woman squeezing and stroking his ass. Ever. Let alone as diligently as Mistress L. Her fingers were so strong and confident, sure she had full and complete license to touch him in any way she wanted. He’d signed his body over to her, willingly and completely.

In this, I’m her willing and eager slave.

The thought rocked him back on his heels and he sagged again, almost falling against her. Her fingers pulled on his buttock, separating his cheeks more fully for the wicked gliding crop. He’d known the anus was full of nerve endings, but pride, again, had kept him from ever allowing exploration. He wasn’t gay, so he’d stupidly kept the area off limits, but even more grievously ignorant, he’d marked
possible interest
instead of
none
on the questionnaire. He hadn’t given Mistress L enough credit at the time to understand she would take him no holds barred. No hesitation. Nothing was too dirty for her if either one of them would find pleasure in it.

With the crop pressing against him and his body throbbing with new sensation, he knew all too well what pleasure she could find there.

“Have you ever had anything in your ass, Donovan?”

He jerked against her, helpless and unable—unwilling—to defend himself. His shoulders ached with strain. His thighs quivered as if he’d swum laps around the lake instead of cruising in his boat. “No, Mistress.” His voice shook as badly as his legs but there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

I could tell her my safeword.

But I won’t.

And she knows it.

A sudden peace washed over him, a calm he’d never known. Whatever happened was out of his hands. He’d signed his name on her dotted line. He’d given himself over to her. She could do as she willed to him. Nothing would stop her from taking exactly what she wanted, even if that meant she pulled out a monstrously large strap-on dildo from the black bag and started fucking him with it.

His knees buckled and he fell before her, trembling.

“There you go, sweet boy. That’s what I wanted to see.” Her arms remained around him, her hands rubbing over his back and ass to soothe and comfort him, gentle and loving and kind. Not punishing. Not cruel. “There’s the utter and complete submission I wanted you to give me.”

She stood, urging him to turn and give her room. To give her access to whatever she wanted. He knew what she wanted. She’d already told him. So he bent forward, pressed his face to the padded deck, and lifted his ass high in the air.

The crop came down in the hardest blow she’d given him, his immediate reward for obeying her, even if it’d taken him agony to get there. He groaned out a harsh, desperate cry, arching his back, his body begging for another blow, even though he knew it was too late. She’d promised only six blows. And that was the sixth.

He’d fought and wrestled with his pride so long that now a release felt like a distant, receding door, and he was trapped in a nightmare hallway that only grew longer the harder he tried to escape. The words were there. The words he’d sworn he wouldn’t give any woman. Pleas and cries, desperation burning in every overused muscle until he couldn’t stand it. His pride was shattered, broken down into a thousand shards, slicing his throat and keeping the words locked inside.

Luckily for him, she must have decided he’d given enough, at least for this scene.

“You gave me what I wanted, Donovan. So I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

The crop came down again and again, a steady rhythm, one cheek and then the other. He’d never been able to last so long. Other Mistresses had spanked him and he’d been humiliated at how quickly he’d exploded. He’d sworn he’d seen a knowing smirk in their eyes. Now he knew why he’d been unable to control himself and also why he hadn’t gone back to any of those other women.

They hadn’t been able to control him either. They hadn’t taken the time to figure out how his brain worked, to learn what he needed so desperately. Pain alone wasn’t enough, not completely. He needed to be conquered.

He needed to surrender. Like this. Beyond his pride, beyond any sense of humiliation and shame. He needed to find a Mistress who could bring him to this place and keep him hovering on the edge of release, unable to come.

Until she allowed it.

She pressed against the backs of his thighs, straddling his feet on her knees to get close. Her hands kneaded his swollen ass and she pressed her hips against his hamstrings, rocking him, a reverse doggie style that had never entered his mind with a woman.

She could take me like this. I’d be completely under her control.