For His Pleasure (Dominated By The Billionaire)

Copyright © 2012, Adriana
Hunter

All Rights
Reserved

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This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and
places are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, including events,
areas, locations and situations is entirely
coincidental.

Adriana Hunter ©
2012 All rights reserved

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Katherine Hewitt waited in line at the
Starbucks Drive-Thru, checking her watch every few minutes and
trying not to tap her foot too impatiently. She really should have
gotten here ten minutes earlier, but she’d had a restless night and
had fallen asleep late, resulting in her hitting the snooze button
one too many times. It was ten minutes to eight and if she didn’t
arrive with the coffees for the morning meeting she would be in hot
water.

She pulled up to the ordering screen and put
in her order for five house blend coffees, three with cream and
sugar, one with just cream, and one black. Then she ordered a
caramel macchiato for herself, and sat back while she waited for
the car in front of her to roll forward. Her tired mind drifted
back to work, to all the things she would have to get done for the
day, while trying her hardest not to be distracted by the sexy,
enigmatic powerhouse that was Mark Donaldson.

In truth, she was only his front desk
secretary—his personal secretary (or assistant, as the man liked to
call himself) was Dave Harrison, tall, skinny and snooty-nosed, and
very much crushing on their boss. Max had a tendency to tumble
whichever woman was in his bed across his desk during his lunch
hour, and Dave would get outrageously jealous and take it out on
Katherine since he knew she had eyes for the boss as well. So he
would dump tasks on her that were quite obviously his job—like
fetching the morning meeting coffee.

She collected and paid for the orders, then
drove down Central Avenue and into the parking garage adjacent to
the building Empire Creations was housed in. Balancing the two
trays of coffee in her hands, she somehow managed to get to the
office on the 30
^th
floor without spilling any on the
white blouse she wore—a miracle, since she’d already stained three
shirts in as many weeks doing just this.

Her low-heeled pumps clicked against the
black tile floor as she headed past the wide console that was her
desk, through the hall, and into the meeting room, where several
staff were already waiting—including Mark, who was making notes on
a pad of paper as he sat at the head of the table.

She set the coffees down near him, and froze
momentarily when he looked her way. He was too handsome for a Plain
Jane like her to be around him without floundering for oxygen. The
ceiling lights glanced off his black hair, slicked back from a
tanned face with a straight nose, lips she knew could curve
absolutely wickedly when he was looking at a woman he liked, and a
strong, square chin. His eyes were such a dark brown they appeared
to be black, and they pierced her like arrows now, something
intensely carnal in them she wasn’t at all comfortable with.

“Good morning, Ms. Hewitt,” he greeted her
in that deep, rich voice that was like the caress of a man’s hand
down her spine.

“Morning, Mr. Donaldson,” she murmured
quietly, dropping her eyes to the coffee tray she’d set down so she
wouldn’t have to look into his eyes. She began pulling out the
different coffees and reading the labels on them before passing
them out. When she got to his she set it down in front of him, her
eyes fixated on the glossy wooden table, and she nearly jumped out
of her skin as his hand curled around the cup, strong, warm fingers
touching hers before she could let go. Startled, she looked up to
see that carnal gleam was in his eye, and this time that wicked
curve to his lips was there to match it. Her pulse tripped as color
heated her cheeks. Surely he wasn’t looking at
her
like
that. She was just a wallflower—a nobody.

The spell of the moment was shattered when
Dave came rushing over, his pale face stretched in a grimace of a
smile. The loathing in his blue eyes as he looked her way told her
loud and clear that he was not pleased with what he was seeing.
“I’ll take that off your hands, Ms. Hewitt,” he told her, elbowing
her out of the way none too gently. He spied the caramel macchiato
and snatched it up. “Ah. I see you’ve forgotten my own coffee, so
I’ll make do with this. You can go back to your post up front, Ms.
Hewitt.”

Katherine balled her hands into fists, but
she was still new here and she couldn’t risk speaking out and
losing her job. Prepared to walk off without her coffee, her head
shot up in surprise as Mark spoke.

“Mr. Harrison, you know full well you never
ordered any coffee this morning, which is why Ms. Hewitt did not
bring any for you. You always complain about the inferiority of the
Starbucks brand and blend your own at home, which is in the thermos
you’ve left out on the table over there.” Mark pointed to where it
sat next to the portfolio case Dave was always carrying around, and
though his tone was mild there was a hint of steel in it that had
Dave’s spine stiffening and a line of sweat breaking out over his
pale forehead. “Please don’t play games during office hours, and
give Ms. Hewitt her coffee back.”

“O-Of course,” Dave stammered, his eyes wide
with shock. He turned and handed Katherine her macchiato.
“Apologies, Ms. Hewitt. It was my mistake.” The resentment flashing
in those pale eyes told her it was no such thing, and they both
knew it. As it was, she gave him a small smirk that didn’t even
come close to the tap dance of joy her heart was performing, and
took the drink from him.

“Thank you,” she told Dave, and then looked
past him to Mark, who was watching them both. “Good morning,
sir.”

She turned and left the room, and a tingle
went up her spine as she felt Mark’s eyes on her the entire way out
the door.

****

Mark watched the subtle sway of Katherine’s
hips as she walked out the door, fancy drink in hand. She really
wasn’t much of a looker at first glance—she wore the same black
pencil skirts, white blouses and low-heeled pumps every day, and
her brown hair, while glossy, was always pulled back into a
no-nonsense bun. Her make-up was always professionally done, but
low key, the buttons on her blouses were always completely done up
so as to show not a hint of cleavage, and she always wore pantyhose
over those legs of hers despite the sweltering heat that was
summer.

She was always very quiet, very unassuming,
and wouldn’t look him in the eye if she could help it. Their
conversations were always very brief, and she never tried to engage
him in small talk. If it weren’t for the surreptitious glances she
would send his way when she thought he wasn’t looking, he would
swear she swung the other way. But he suspected she was exactly
what she appeared to be—shy, quiet, unassuming. A wallflower that
preferred to duck her head and avoid him rather than raise it like
many other women did and flirt shamelessly with him.

He was between women right now, the last one
having become far too clingy, and normally he wouldn’t have given
Katherine a second glance. He liked his women to be sexy and
outgoing, to know what they wanted and not be afraid to ask for it.
But he was also a Dom, and he sensed that she was a natural
submissive, albeit one who was inexperienced with men. His
practiced eye eventually saw past the drab exterior and to the
exquisite figure beneath that she downplayed, and his instincts
told him that the right man could not only bring out her external
beauty, but awaken her sexually as well.

He’d seen those fists of hers bunch when
Dave had tried to steal her coffee as punishment for drawing his
attentions. He glanced sideways at his assistant now, who was busy
setting up the projector. He knew perfectly well about Dave’s
feelings for him and his proclivity for jealousy towards the women
he brought around, but that was just too bad. He wasn’t sexually
attracted to men, and if he had been he suspected Dave wouldn’t be
his type anyway. If it weren’t for the fact that Dave was the best
assistant he’d had in his ten years as CEO of Empire Creations he
would have gotten rid of him—it didn’t pay to have an assistant
constantly mooning after him that he wasn’t sexually attracted to.
But his efficiency more than made up for that problem, so he would
deal with it. And if Dave had a problem with his current interest
in Katherine, he was just going to have to get used to it. Because
now that he’d set his sights on her, he wasn’t going to back down
until he got what he wanted.

And as everyone in this office new, Mark
Donaldson
always
got what he wanted.

****

Katherine spent the morning answering
phones, handling correspondence and doing the other myriad front
desk duties expected of her. Every time she sipped from her caramel
macchiato her lips curved into a small smile at the memory of Mark
giving Dave a set-down. If nothing else good ever happened to her
again on this job, she would treasure that memory forever. It was
the first time Mark had ever really paid attention to her.

Of course, it was probably going to be the
last time too. She knew from office gossip that the runway model
he’d been dating was old news, and he had been without a woman for
over a week now. She fully expected to see a new one on his arm by
the time he came back from lunch today. Sometimes she wondered how
he ever got anything done with all the sex he was obviously having.
Her cheeks heated as they always did when she thought of him
screwing some woman in his office. Did he like for them to kneel on
his desk, doggy-style? Or did he sit back in his chair and let them
ride him?

Blinking, she shook her head to snap herself
out of it and try and lower the color in her cheeks. It was
inappropriate for her to be thinking about her boss having sex with
other women… even if he did it during office hours. Why should it
matter to her, since she was never going to be one of those women?
It’s not like his sexual performance affected the performance of
the company. Empire Creations’ stock had risen ten percent in the
last week alone. Mark was obviously very good at what he did.

Her heart beat a little faster as she heard
the sound of Mark’s expensive shoes briskly hitting the tiled
floors. He always walked with a powerful stride and she’d learned
to recognize when he was coming by the sound alone.
Self-consciously, she patted her hair and adjusted her blouse a
fraction, not wanting to look less than her best though she knew he
probably didn’t pay her any attention.

He came around the corner and she looked up
at him through the fringe of her bangs, admiring his powerful body.
He was six foot two with broad shoulders and a stocky build—he
looked like he’d probably played as a line-backer in college and
had maintained the physique despite being in an office position for
who knew how long. Fully expecting him to give her a polite smile
and walk out the door, she was surprised when he instead made a
beeline for her desk.