Authors: Carolyn Faulkner
He puttered around the room, unlocking cabinets and extracting the tools of the trade: a plastic speculum - the metal ones could pinch sensitive flesh without permission - a soft leather flogger that was anything but in his hands, a wooden spoon with a hole in the middle that left the most intriguing pattern of welts. Inspired by that thought, he put his digital camera within easy reach on the bedside table.
He'd taken videos of her, especially when they were first together and everything was so brand new, including all of her responses to his efforts. But as their relationship progressed he'd found himself less and less captivated by that medium and more and more riveted by the reality of it all. Even when he was being more avid about video documentation of their exploits, they never ended up being particularly prurient. He preferred almost artful shots of her reactions much more than the money shots.
And it had puzzled him to no end.
It wasn't like he was a chaste beginner himself. More like a jaded old timer.
He had always had money - thanks to his grandfather - had always been privileged, and had always pretty much done as he'd damned well pleased. Especially when it came to women. It seemed that no one could - or would - turn him down, no matter what outrageous demand he made of them.
But he knew what motivated each and every one of the women he took into the Library, and then, usually, eventually, into a bed - although not his. Before Raina, he'd never allowed any of his little playmates into his inner sanctum. He'd used one of the other master suites, keeping it looking relatively lived in so that none of them guessed that they weren't in the bedroom he slept in.
They wanted his money. He'd never, ever, unless there was another Depression, have to read a price tag. Neither would his wife, not that there was ever going to be another one. He'd married early and for love, fool that he was. He'd never again let himself be lead around by his dick.
Instead, he did the leading, and he kept his emotions - such as they were now - very carefully under wraps. Frankly, despite the fact that he had a raging libido, he very rarely indulged himself. It was too dangerous to do so with his... predilections. He didn't want to see himself in the headlines of the Enquirer - "Billionaire Playboy Prefers Whips and Chains".
A shudder ran through him at the mere thought. He may have had all the privileges of wealth, but he wasn't one of those trust fund babies who partied, fucked, and slept and contributed little else to the world around him. He hadn't rested on his grandfather's monied laurels - he'd created his own highly successful companies and was a force - a jaded, cynical force, but a force nonetheless - to be reckoned within the business world. He had a reputation as a ruthless man who tended towards hostile takeovers of companies that no one knew were teetering on the brink of insolvency.
But Raina had caught his eye from the very beginning.
Raina Boardman was a self made woman - his exact opposite. She wasn't born with anything in her mouth, much less a silver spoon, but she'd managed to pull herself up by her bootstraps. She was the CEO of a corporation called Infinity that was solidly established as a leader in the cosmetics industry. She was a Type A of the highest order, first one in and last one out, every single day.
They'd been invited to the same charity benefit, and he had seen her walk in - head high, looking drop dead gorgeous and completely comfortable without an escort, male, female or otherwise. She didn't need anyone or anything, and her carriage and attitude fairly screamed it.
He finagled an introduction, not wanting to confront her head on. He didn't know what it was, but something in him told him to be a more subtle in his approach to her than he might be.
And he was right.
When their small talk petered out, and a group of people who seemed to know her well arrived, he managed to insinuate himself into their fringes as they laughed and talked with easy camaraderie. She had a reputation for being a tough, hard nosed bitch, but, like with most publicity, the positive side of her was never portrayed.
He hated it, but he liked hearing her laugh. It was a soft, tinkling sound, and it made his heart contract,
but only once, before he brought it strictly back into line. He wasn't going to go there again with any woman, even her.
He found himself drawn to her almost against his will, but he remained on the fringes of the group, not joining in, just listening and watching. She was just what he wanted in a woman - although she was wearing too much make up for his tastes; she was smart, funny, and could hold her own with anyone without seeming shrewish or bitchy, just calm and strong and sure of herself. He'd never put a lot of stock in looks, but she was gorgeous, even by his standards, and he'd been fully hard since the moment his eyes had found her across the room.
Patience, man, he'd chided himself. He didn't speak to her again until he called and set up an appointment to see her. He was always more comfortable talking to people on a business level at first.
When she'd ushered him into her office, which was tastefully, classically appointed and shown him to a comfortable wing backed chair in front of her big oak desk, he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her. So much so that he had barley listened to what she was saying to him.
He'd never reacted to any woman - even Amy - like that in his life, and he didn't like it one bit.
But that did nothing to dull the throbbing ache she inspired in his loins.
He consciously dispensed with chit chat, which he abhorred anyway, and got right down to the brass tacks of letting her know that he admired what she'd done, and that he'd like to help her as much as he could.
She'd been excruciatingly polite, no doubt not wanting to offend him, but had quietly refused every offer he'd made until he hit on a way for her to branch out that she hadn't thought of.
Then he had her, and they began to work very closely - and extremely well - together on it. He didn't usually like to partner with anyone, but things seemed very natural between them from the very beginning, and their long nights together paid off for the both of them, in very varied ways.
It was late one night when he'd realized just exactly how perfect they were for each other. They'd been working all day; he'd already wrenched of his tie and unbuttoned his collar. He was inches away from stripping off his shirt altogether. She'd kicked off her ridiculously high pastel pink heels and literally let her hair down, complaining that the bun she'd scraped it into was giving her a head ache. She hadn't done it as a come on at all, just practically removed the pins that were holding it and let it fall.
She looked incredible, regardless, as far as he was concerned.
They got into a small disagreement about how to fund something. He was insisting on doing it himself, since it was a tricky proposal and he didn't want her to have to feel any of the financial crunch if it didn't work.
But she was at least as stubborn as he was about some things, and kept giving him a hard time about it, trying to reassure him that she wanted to stand on her own two feet and that she didn't accept help from anyone, including him.
Finally, he drew himself up to his full six-two and came around the table to stare down at her, glaring fit to subdue even a man much bigger than himself, not that she seemed to notice it much when he was intimidating, unlike most of the rest of the people around him. One sharp look and he could practically clear a crowded room. But then, she wasn't a sycophant or a hanger on or a yes person. She was a highly successful woman in her own right, and she was just trying to assert the fact that she didn't need him, or anyone else, and she wasn't going to just knuckle under because of who or what he was.
For some reason, though, she did this time as he stood over her, his hands on his hips. "Now. I'm going to provide the backing for this, and you're going to be quiet and obedient and let me do it. Case closed."
It amazed him when she just sat there and uttered a meek, "Yes, Sir."
He sucked in his breath quickly at the sound of it, standing there very deliberately until she looked up at him, and he knew as soon as their eyes met.
She would submit to him.
In every way.
And she'd enjoy every second of it.
He'd make damn sure of that.
Chapter Two
Raina shuffled back towards the library, but he stepped out of their bedroom to beckon her to him, extending his hand as both a target and a help. He was so strange that way. He was terribly, terribly strict on her, yet, in some ways he almost overprotected her. He was scrupulously careful about her health and made sure that she took her asthma medications every single morning, and also that, whenever he was "tending" her, as he liked to put it, that her inhalers weren't far from either her own reach or his. He didn't often gag her for reasons other than not liking to hear much in the way of protests - they interfered with her breathing, and he refused to do anything that might compromise the health of his investment.
And he had invested quite a bit in her, Raina thought as he guided her into the bedroom. As soon as he let go of her, she stopped in place, knowing that he never wanted her to try to read his mind or anticipate what he might want from her. She was always surprised, anyway. But she could see the things he'd laid out on a towel on the bed, and she knew the way of things.
After looking her over from head to toe, touching here and there, he said but one word, in a hard, toneless voice, "Present", as if he was talking to a cocker spaniel.
Raina moved her left foot as far away fro the right as her panties would allow, then laced her fingers at the back of her head, lifting her chin slightly, proudly - as he required - and arching her back just the slightest bit, so that her already unmistakable breasts were pressed into even greater prominence. Even if she was going to be punished, he never liked her to be hang dog about it. Her master felt that she should consider even a punishment an honor.
And it was. It was an honor that he had even noticed her at first - although she hadn't let that on. Men like her Master didn't show up very often in this world, and lately it was even rarer than ever to find a man such as him. And when he'd called and invited her to dinner...
Raina had never been the type to swoon over a man in any way. She'd had a few romances in high school and college, but had very carefully never become seriously involved with anyone. She'd known exactly what she wanted, and it wasn't a husband or children. At least not then. And, she had to admit, even now, those two things were still pretty much at the bottom of her list of priorities.
She'd worked very hard in high school and gotten a scholarship to college even though no one ever knew, because she worked full time all the way through it. She took her seed money over to France, and studied at the right hand of a genius in perfumes, as well as wheedling her way into some of the finer cosmetic companies there.
She'd taken what she'd learned - and the remainder of her nest egg - back to the States several years later, and, eventually, through years of eighty and ninety hour weeks, she'd gotten herself to the top of the heap, and she damned well intended on staying there.
But her Master had had other ideas, and he hadn't been shy about voicing them from their very first official date, which he orchestrated completely after receiving her agreement that she would see him outside of work. It was a magical night, but there was absolutely no doubt as to who was in charge, although it seemed as if he'd done his research, because everything he had - from the food to the wine to their surroundings - was exactly what she adored most.
He'd put it to her right then and there - not being one to pussyfoot around. He'd told her that he knew her innermost desire, and that he was going to be the one to fulfill it.
Raina, of course, had guffawed at the idea, but one chortle later she'd looked at his face and all amusement had fled her mind.
He was serious.
But he couldn't possible know what dangerous, kinky, outrageous thoughts popped into her mind when she least expected them, or lived in the back of her head until the middle of the night, when she should have been sleeping, and made her writhe and twist beneath the silken sheets.
She wanted to submit. She needed to. It was a craving she'd felt all her life, but had stuffed down in favor of her driving ambitions. She was the one who gave the orders, and that was the way she preferred it, as far as work went, and work was her entire life at that time. It was everything.
But her master had realized, wisely so, that she was entirely unfulfilled personally, and somehow he'd also known exactly what it was that would fulfill her the most.
He certainly fit the part perfectly. When he walked into a room, like it or not, all eyes were drawn to him. He was a force to be reckoned with, and that force had chosen to focus his attentions on her, then and now.
And he'd proceeded to prove her wrong. He could know exactly what it was that she desired, because he had an even stronger desire to make her experience each and every one of those perverted variations.
And in the past year or so, he'd come awfully close to fulfilling her every desire. Sometimes uncomfortably close to some of them.
She stood there for a long moment in front of him, and knew better than to flinch, or ever try to cover herself from him. One of her hardest, longest lessons had been when they first came together in this capacity. Raina may have had all sorts of thoughts and longings and fantasies, but none of them compared to the reality in the least. She was a very naturally shy about appearing in front of anyone - especially him - naked, but he wasn't about to let her get away with any sort of innate feminine shyness. She was his, and when he wanted to see her, he didn't want to have to push aside those very pretty hands to do so.