The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (24 page)

“What will you do with it once the windows are done?”

“I’ll rent out the space if I don’t need it. I’m always interested in new business opportunities.” Keeping his business face on and his voice brisk, he said, “Make a list of what equipment and supplies you need. We’ll get everything in as quickly as possible so you can begin. I’m assuming you’ll need more than just a few tables and places to store the glass.”

“Should I give the list to your secretary?”

“No, to me. I’m curious about the process.”
Actually, I want to make sure you’re not shorting yourself just to keep expenses low.
“Same with the other artists you bring in to help with the project. I’ll handle their payments and expenses personally. I want to be intimately involved in the entire process.”

She smiled, her voice going husky. “You already are intimately involved.”

More than you could ever know.
“Speaking of intimacy, will you be spending the night with me this evening?”

She sighed reluctantly. “I need to speak to you about that. Hank…”

He nodded. “I assumed as much. You can’t leave the dog alone every single night, and I can’t have pets in the condo.”

“Every other night or so will be fine. He’ll miss me, but each day, I’ll go get him and he can hang out with me here in the warehouse. I just can’t leave him alone every single night.”

“Of course not. We’ll work out something long term if the need arises.” Pleased he’d managed to reply without clenching his teeth and beating his fists bloody on the concrete floor, he forced a smile. “I do hope you’ll at least be able to eat with me most evenings?”

“If it won’t kill Your Majesty to live like a peasant, you could always spend the night with me, you know. Although Hank does sleep in the bed with me sometimes.”

He pretended to shudder, but frankly, he’d sleep on the floor if that’s what it took to be near her. “Does he snore as badly as you?”

“Worse. Don’t you ever have to work late making your millions? Travel overseas? I’m sure you’re going to be way too busy to worry about having to sleep with a hairy dog.”

“Trying to get rid of me?”

She swatted him on the ass playfully, but hard enough he sucked in a breath and decided it was time to head home. Now. “Maybe I’m hinting you should take me with you.”

He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and urged her closer. “Don’t tempt me, Lilly. You know how much I’d love to drag you on a grand tour around the world. I never thought you’d be willing to go with me.”

“I wouldn’t mind going on a trip someday, maybe after the windows are done. I just don’t want you putting important business off on my account, and I thought if you had meetings and trips you had to go on, it would help me determine what nights to stay with Hank.”

He fought to keep his face smooth.
I learned that lesson a long time ago. Business will never take me away from you.
“I don’t have any business trips planned in the near future. Actually, things at Morgan Industries are very stable right now. I have an extremely competent staff more than capable of managing any issues that arise. But the moment you’re ready to go to Paris, I’ll have the jet fueled and ready to go in an hour.”

“I think the car and your condo are more than fine for now.”

Reluctantly, he released her. At least she headed for the door. He wanted to ask so many questions, to dig deeper and really understand what she needed from him the most. He’d found her artist, but she’d be gone as soon as the windows were done. He’d found the way to her stomach, which definitely helped, but she had Dmitri to keep her fed.

I have to find a way to work my way into her heart and set up camp before she even realizes I’m there. For now, I’ll just have to concentrate on being the absolute best submissive I can possibly be.

Chapter Seventeen

Humming softly, Lilly stepped out of the bathroom and jerked to a halt.

Donovan knelt at the foot of his bed, facing away from her. Naked.

Knelt. Naked.

She could only stare, drinking in the long, lean lines of his tanned back. After it’d been so hard for him to go to his knees on the boat, the sight of him voluntarily putting himself low for her…

She couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Her eyes burned, her throat closed off, and it was all she could do not to throw herself on top of him. After their minor argument at the diner, the last thing she’d expected was for him to voluntarily go to his knees before she could force him there.

At the sound of the door opening, he bent forward, head to floor, ass lifting, beckoning for her attention. She couldn’t resist. Certainly couldn’t stay away from such temptation. She tried to keep her pace steady and controlled, properly Mistress-ish, even though she felt like a kid in the candy store.

Lightly she laid her palm on his buttock. “Is this the same high and mighty billionaire I know?”

He quivered at the light touch, the muscles working along his spine. He was used to confident force from her. Not soft, light touches. “Yes, Mistress. You said I needed to work on my manners.”

She let her fingers slide lower, tickling the curve of his cheek. “These are very pretty manners, Donovan. But I didn’t come prepared for a full scene tonight. I’m not even dressed.”

He kept his head low and eyes squeezed shut, resisting the temptation to lift his head—without invitation. “Should I get the spoon again, Mistress?”

“Sit back so I can talk to you.” She moved around and sat on the edge of the bed, watching him lean back on his heels. He dragged his gaze up the length of her body, lingering a moment at the sight of his robe wrapped around her. The way his eyes heated, he liked it just as much as one of her racier corsets. What a picture he made. Big palms flat on his thighs, cock stiff and proud even though she hadn’t even thought about touching him yet, nostrils flaring wide. “I thought you didn’t like the spoon.”

“I like anything you choose to use, Mistress. Though I have to admit I enjoyed the crop much more.”

She narrowed her eyes and hardened her voice. “If I chose to use a hairbrush, you’d like that? How about a cane?”

He didn’t flinch or drop his gaze. “Whatever Mistress chooses, I will endure. I only ask…” He hesitated, so she nodded, indicating she was feeling benevolent tonight. “For bruises, Mistress. I want to have something I can look at during the day.”

She had to close her eyes a moment to gather her composure.
Bruises. Oh, lover boy, you sure know how to get to me.

“Is that unacceptable, Mistress?”

“Of course not.” With a deep breath, she opened her eyes, fully in control so hopefully the raging lust wasn’t painted all over her face. “There’s nothing I’d like better than to see my handiwork on your gorgeous ass. I just didn’t think you’d want such lasting marks on your body.”

“Why not?”

She let a smile quirk her lips. “I thought you’d be too proud and arrogant to want a reminder on your body where someone could see it.”

He laughed softly. “It’s not as though anyone sees my ass during the day, Mistress.”

“But you’ll have to sit through endless meetings. I don’t care how comfortable your office chair is, it’ll be a sore reminder after an hour or two.”

His breath caught on a soft little sigh that made her nipples pebble. “Exactly.”

Making her voice brisk to hide how much she loved the idea, she said, “Luckily for you, I have a few surprises stashed in my portfolio. If you—”

But he was already up and moving to retrieve her portfolio he must have brought into the bedroom for her. She didn’t remember laying it on the easy chair by the window. He knelt and offered it to her.

“Eager, aren’t we, lover boy?”

He blushed a little. “You said you’d purchased the collars today, and you didn’t have any other bags. I thought your portfolio a safe bet.”

Cocking her eyebrow, she opened the leather satchel and pulled out the crop. “I decided I’d better have this on hand in case the count got too high.” She set it aside and pulled out two flat boxes.

Attention locked on those boxes, he waited, leaning forward, his breath hitching.

He wants a collar so damned bad. I have to make sure he doesn’t read too much into it. Even though he’s going to hate it.

Scooting back further on the bed, she laid the two boxes on the mattress before her and flipped them both open. In one lay a thick leather collar with a heavy-duty D ring they could have all sorts of fun with. It wasn’t one of the doggie-looking collars, but it was rough and inelegant. It would definitely make him feel submissive, especially if she buckled it tight on his throat. But it wasn’t the thick leather one he stared at as reverently as if she’d thrown open his robe.

The other box held a seemingly delicate silver chain choker of interconnected rings made to resemble chain mail. She’d gone for stainless steel for the strength and weight, but the craftsmanship made it unique, elegant and, hopefully, fit for her billionaire submissive more used to platinum and diamonds than leather and D-rings. It might look like a necklace, but the small lock and key made the message clear.

Owned.

He stared at the collar like he’d died and gone to heaven. She wasn’t sure if it was the lock he coveted, or just the elegant chain.

She shut the silver collar’s box. His face twisted, breaking down into disappointment, frustration, despair, and yes, even rage. Rage that he had to accept her will, even if it meant giving up the one thing he wanted more than anything. He fought himself, grinding his jaws, squeezing his eyes shut, every tendon and ligament standing out in stark relief beneath his skin. But he never said a word. Finally his face smoothed and when he opened his eyes, she saw only resigned acceptance.

True submission.

The battle might have been quicker than on the boat when she’d pushed him to his knees, but it was just as important.

She picked up the leather collar, put it around his throat and buckled it. Staring up at her, his eyes dilated and sweat beaded on his upper lip. When she tightened it another notch, she managed to draw a groan from him.

But as much as she loved the black on his tanned skin and the way he responded, it wasn’t working for her.

It’s not what I see in my mind when I pictured this moment. The first time he knelt at my feet and accepted my collar.

“No,” she whispered. “It’s not right.”

His eyes widened and he clamped a hand over the leather collar protectively. “You can’t take it back.”

“Yes, I can. It’s not right. Take it off, please.”

As much as he’d battled himself to accept the rougher collar, he didn’t want to take it off. His fingers shook and the muscle in his cheek twitched, but he silently worked the buckle loose and removed the leather. He held the collar out to her, but his knuckles were white on the leather. He might have hated it, but now that he had it, he didn’t want to let it go.

Until she picked up the other box. Then he dropped the training collar like it burned him. His eyes caught fire and he fought to contain himself now as hard as he’d had to keep from arguing earlier.

Leaning in toward her, he reached up to lay a hand on her thigh. As the cold metal came around his throat and she didn’t rebuke him, he slid his palm up her leg to cup her pussy. His fingers convulsed on her as she fastened the collar. It was a tight fit. He’d feel the choker every time he swallowed, but it wasn’t tight enough to leave marks in his skin.

The lock clicked and he quivered, his eyes so wide and dilated they were almost completely black. She ran a finger over the metal and whispered, “Now that’s a pretty sight indeed. If you want to wear it all day—”

He made a low sound of disbelief that made her smile, as if he were saying
just try and take this off me.

“The lock can slide around to the back. No one will know it’s a collar and not some new-fangled necklace Mr. Moneybags bought in Paris.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” His voice was rough, his breathing ragged. He laid his head on her thigh, pressing his mouth to her skin. Running her fingers through his hair, she let him find his bearings again, giving him time to adapt to the feeling. Because if she rushed this, he’d come in a startled explosion that would mightily embarrass him.

When his mouth dared to roam higher—which would endanger her plans for the rest of the evening—she curled her index finger beneath his collar and tugged his head up. The extra width of her finger tightened the constraint of his windpipe, bringing the dazed look back into his eyes. “Who do you belong to, Donovan?”

“You.” He licked his lips, his fingers trembling against her core again. “Mistress L.”

“I own you now.” She tugged on the collar playfully. “You’re mine. All mine. To do with what I will.”

He could almost believe he’d died and gone to heaven. Owned. The collar tight on his throat. The most beautiful, powerful, luscious Mistress he’d ever dreamed to have at his helm.

Own me body, heart and soul, Lilly.

She picked up the crop and his cock twitched, extending another inch. “What’s the count?”

“Ten.”

She arched a brow at him and stood to shrug off the robe she’d pilfered from the bathroom door. “I don’t recall doubling it.”