For His Pleasure (Dominated By The Billionaire) (3 page)

“Don’t worry about it,” he murmured. “I’m
not going to hurt you.”

“Are… are we doing this here?” she wanted to
know. “Now?”

He smiled at her. “Not exactly. I am…
preparing you for our first night together.”

Leaning past her, he reached out and grabbed
a large white box sitting on the desk. He set it down next to her
and lifted the top off. She tried to get a look at what was inside
but was distracted when he reached to the zipper at the side of her
pencil skirt and tugged it down.

“Lift your legs for me,” he commanded, and
she did as he said. Shivers of pleasure went through her body as he
slowly slid the skirt down her body, ensuring that the pads of his
fingers stroked her legs as he did so. “Good girl. Now your
panties.”

“I… I thought we weren’t doing this
here?”

His hands stilled at the waistband of her
plain, white cotton panties. “One of the rules to this game is that
you must place your trust in me. If I give you an order, you obey.
If not, you are punished. Right now, I order you to not question my
directions. If you aren’t willing to play by the rules, we can end
this here and now, and you can walk out this door without getting a
chance to experience the sensual delights in store for both of
us.”

Heart hammering, she stared up at him
wordlessly for a moment. His countenance was expressionless,
smooth, but his eyes were hot with the promise of those sensual
delights just around the corner. A large part of her, the coward
that kept her from exploring her sexual side as a woman, that bound
her within the confines of her apartment when she was outside of
work, begged her to get off the table and walk away. But the other
part of her, the one that longed for excitement, adventure, for
sexual fulfillment, demanded she stay. It was that part of her
that, deep down inside, made her realize she would deeply regret
passing up this opportunity.

“I will stay.”

“Good.” He smiled, then slid her panties
off. “No,” he murmured when she tried to close her legs. “I want to
see you.”

Pressing her palms hard against the desk,
she held her breath as he spread her legs wide, exposing her most
private area to his gaze. Her legs trembled as she fought against
the impulse to snap them shut—she’d had sex before, but the few
encounters had been sloppy and quick. She had little experience
with foreplay.

“Beautiful.” His fingers gently stroked her
dark blond curls, sending her muscles aquiver for different reasons
now. They moved down to her lips, and she could feel her core heat.
“Already wet. By the time we’re done tonight you’ll be dripping for
me. Begging for me. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Good.” He lifted a black, lacy thong out of
the box, then clipped a small device to the inside of it before
sliding it up her legs. He adjusted the string around her hips and
squeezed her ass cheeks lightly, his fingers digging in and
massaging. She could feel the cold metal of the device right up
against her clitoris. “You’re wearing a remote-controlled vibrator
right now,” he explained, holding up a small, black remote to prove
his words. “You’ll keep it on at all times when you are wearing
clothing, even when you are not with me.”

“All the time?” When he arched an eyebrow,
she lowered her eyes. “I mean, yes, of course.”’

He lifted her chin with the tip of a single
finger. “That means when you’re at home on the couch, watching TV,
or sitting at the front desk answering phones at work. It will
serve as a constant reminder, so that you’re always thinking of me,
always ready for me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said, a breathless note to her
voice this time at the images he was putting into her head.

“Very good.” Removing his hands from her
hips, he brought them up to her blouse and undid the buttons. Her
blouse and bra went fluttering to the floor where her skirt lay,
and she bit her lip as he slid his warm palms beneath her breasts,
hefting them in each hands. She gasped when he tweaked her nipples,
then licked her lips when he pulled a column of fluid black silk
from the box and slipped it over her head.

“Stand up.” She did as he asked, and he
smoothed the dress over her hips, her thighs, the curve of her ass.
It was a little black dress with a short, ruffled skirt that barely
reached the end of her fingertips when she let her arms hang to the
sides

There was enough support built into the
bodice to accentuate and lift her breasts and so she tried not to
be worried about the fact that it was strapless. Altogether it
showed off far more of her skin than she’d ever done before.

“Gorgeous.” He came around behind her, his
fingers sliding against the column of her neck as he fastened a
black onyx choker around it, then fixed a matching pair of dangling
earrings in her lobes. Each touch was like a brand, leaving a trail
of fire in his wake. Her attention was so completely fixated on
what he was doing that her knees buckled when the vibrator suddenly
sprang to life, pulsing against her clit and sending bone-melting
sensation through her body. A small cry escaped her lips as he
hauled her up against him, and she could feel his erection pressing
up against the curve of her ass.

“Now, now,” he murmured, his lips touching
her earlobe. “I can’t have you doing that in public. People will
wonder what’s wrong, and what will you tell them?”

Her cheeks burned at the thought. “W-will we
be g-going to a place with lots of people?” she managed, though it
was incredibly hard to formulate words with the vibrator still
vibrating against her clit. She tried to lock her knees so that she
wouldn’t fall over when he let her go.

He chuckled. “Katherine, we’re going to a
soiree. There is going to be a fundraiser tonight for a political
campaign, and because I’m on the board I’m required to be there.
I’m taking you as my date.”

“A fundraising soiree?” a laugh bubbled out
of her, surprising her as the rebellious part of her rose up.
“Awfully… strange place for… a first date...” she ended on a gasp,
squeezing her legs together tightly as the pleasure built. She was
so close to coming, she was certain she would go over the edge in
just a few seconds.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he wagged a finger as he bit
down sharply on her earlobe, the stinging pain an admonishment. The
vibrator shut off and she sagged, both relief and frustration
sinking through her. “Another rule. You aren’t allowed to come
unless I give you permission.”

Katherine bit back a groan. How was she
going to last the night? They hadn’t even left yet and she was
already dripping wet and on the verge of begging. She bit the
inside of her cheek to try and get a handle on herself. “Yes, Mr.
Donaldson.”

“In private you must call me Master.” He
pinched her bottom through her dress, making her jump. “In public,
when we’re with other people, you may call me Mark.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.” He took her arm in his. “Our
carriage awaits.”

Their ‘carriage’ was a black stretch Lincoln
limousine with a fully-stocked bar and seats that stretched along
the sides of the limo’s interior rather than facing forward.
Katherine wondered if the driver who held the door open noticed her
flushed face or stiffened nipples—his expression was polite yet
unfathomable, so she couldn’t tell what he thought of her. She was
certain she didn’t look like any of the women he normally took
around in this limo. She was too short, and not skinny enough.

His phone rang almost immediately when they
got into the limo and after glancing at the screen, made his
apologies to her before answering it. She sat across from him, her
eyes restlessly drifting across the interior as well as the view
outside, but inevitably coming back to the tiny bulge in his pants
pocket where she knew the remote lay. She could feel the metal of
the vibrator pressed intimately against her still, and try as she
might it was impossible to relax—the knowledge that he could turn
it on kept her in a mixture of dread and anticipation.

They arrived at their destination—a
Hilton—and took the elevator up to the hall where the soiree was
being hosted. The hall—tastefully decorated with gold and silver
ribbons, flowers and balloons—was packed with people dressed in
evening finery and holding champagne glasses while they sat at
round tables draped in white table cloths set with candle and
flower centerpieces. A band was playing soft, tasteful music up on
the stage, and the banners clearly proclaimed the fundraiser and
its message.

Mark snagged a champagne flute from a
passing waiter’s tray and handed it to her. “Drink some of this,
and relax. You’re so tense you feel like a wooden board pressed up
against my side.”

Katherine flushed as she took the glass from
him and took a breath, trying to release the tension in her
muscles. The task was made more difficult when he placed his hand
at the small of her back, rubbing up and down gently—she knew he
was trying to soothe her but his touch only heated her more.
Placing the cool rim of the champagne flute to her lips, she
allowed the bubbly liquid to slide down her throat, filling her
with warmth. The knot of tension in her stomach eased slightly.

“Thank you,” she murmured, then thought to
add, “Master.”

Smiling, he kissed the top of her head, then
took her arm again and led her through the crowds of people,
stopping by tables as well as clusters of people standing to talk.
She was introduced to businessmen, politicians, even a few
celebrities, and though initially she was a little flustered she
found herself getting into the rhythm of things, learning to give
and receive polite introductions, make small talk, take and give
compliments. She couldn’t quite hold back the blushes on the many
compliments she was given, either directly or indirectly when one
of the men or women spoke to Mark and ask where he’d managed to
find her. She wasn’t certain if they were being polite, or if they
really meant it, but with Mark’s arm around her and the constant
smiles he flashed her it didn’t matter.

Eventually dinner was served, and they sat
at a table with several other patrons. As introductions were passed
around she realized they were board members of the charity, just
like he.

“Who is your friend, Mark?” a woman with
silver hair dressed in a trim navy suit asked. Despite the color of
her hair there was not a wrinkle on her face, and her dark eyes
were warm, but vigorously alert.

“This is Katherine, my assistant,” Mark told
her, and Katherine had to fight to keep her eyebrows from rising.
She supposed it would be rather awkward for Mark to introduce her
as his receptionist, since he would have no reason to bring her to
a social function otherwise. At least as his assistant she had a
reason for being there with him. “Katherine, this is Emily
Sandoval. She is the Chairman of the Board.”

“Very nice to meet you.” Katherine held out
her hand and exchanged a firm handshake with the woman.

“Likewise.” Emily turned back to Mark. “So
you finally got rid of that greasy stick, did you?”

“Fred is still around,” Mark said as
Katherine’s lips twitched. “Katherine assists me in… other
capacities.”

Katherine’s eyes dropped to her plate as she
suddenly became very interested in her meal—she knew she would
blush if Emily met her eyes. Thankfully the woman was content to
converse with Mark, and paid Katherine no mind. She was just
beginning to relax again, having finished a second glass of
champagne and a good portion of the food on her plate, when Mark’s
fingers gently slid up the hem of her dress, fingers gliding along
her inner thigh. Breath caught in her throat, she glanced over at
him, but his attention was firmly fixed on Emily.

Wondering if she was imagining things, she
dared a glance beneath the table, and saw his fingers curled around
her leg for an instant before his grip tightened subtly. His eyes
were still fixed on Emily as he conversed with her and other board
members at the table, but the message was clear; he didn’t want her
drawing attention to herself, or what he was doing with her.

“So how is it that you’ve come to work for
Mark, Katherine?” one of the other board members, a man in his
forties leaned in to ask her.

“Oh! I… uh…” the pad of his thumb began
massaging the inside of her leg in slow circles, and she had to
fight to marshal her thoughts as the man led her into a
conversation. It was everything she could do to keep her voice
steady, and though she considered slapping at his hand or kicking
him underneath the table, she had the feeling that would violate
the rules of the game.

Eventually they had a moment of silence in
which no one was talking with them, and she leaned over to whisper
in Mark’s ear. “You’re tormenting me.”

“Just a taste of what’s to come, darling,”
he murmured back.

She stiffened as the vibrator hummed against
her clit, and at the same time the lights dimmed and Emily ascended
to the podium to make her opening speech for the fundraiser.
Chuckling, Mark stroked her back briefly as everyone
clapped—Katherine would have joined in but her hands were gripping
the sides of the chair for dear life.

“Remember,” he whispered wickedly in her
ear, “you can’t come unless I say so.”

The fundraising dinner lasted an hour and a
half, and it was the longest hour and a half she’d ever lived
through. Mark didn’t keep the vibrator on the entire time, but
would turn it on and off at random intervals, keeping her on her
toes so that she never knew when it was going to hit her. Sometimes
it was when someone was talking up on the podium and no one was
paying attention to her; other times it was when someone was
talking to her, or even when she was mid-sentence—those were the
most mortifying. By the end of the fundraiser she was in a state of
such heightened need she could barely walk, and clung to Mark’s arm
for dear life as he escorted her out and into the limo.