The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Read online

  “When I graduated from college, he finally told me he’d never been prouder. That’s when I decided I was going to take over the family business—but I was going to do it my way. I started making investments, expanding from fishing boats to packing companies, ocean liners, manufacturing. I kept thinking I’d make enough that Dad would finally quit captaining the fishing boat and we’d just… I don’t know. Hang out together. When I bought him this yacht, I thought it would finally get him to retire. Instead, he named it Beverly, after my mother, and started touring the world in it. Alone.”

  “Why?”

  “He said he met Mom on her father’s boat when he signed on his first year, and she was in the sea for him. When he was out on the water, he was with her. If he was on land, he missed her too much. I joined him when I could, but I got tied up with business more often than not, doing the same thing he’d done for all those years. Making money for the family, when what the family really wanted was me.”

  He had to pause a moment, his throat dry and raw from emotion. Sitting up, he crawled over to the cooler and brought back two Perriers. “When Dad started having heart problems, I tried to get him to come live with me for a while, but he refused. He had to be on the sea, die on the sea. So I joined him on the Beverly at last and we just sailed and fished and talked about Mom and Grandpa and all those wretched miserable summers I spent on the boat learning the trade. It was the best summer I can remember, and it taught me the most important lesson of my life. The business did just fine without me, and in the end, there’s no substitute for time together with the ones we love. One morning I got up and found him in his bunk instead of fishing. He’d passed away in his sleep.”

  Lilly snuggled closer, using his shoulder for a pillow, her palm over his heart. “How long ago was that?”

  “Eleven years. I returned to work and Beverly went to dry dock. I couldn’t bear the sight of her. I continued to expand the business but I stayed away from the sea and boats because it was too painful to remember. Then one day I was going through some old boxes and I found a picture of Mom and Dad together on Grandpa’s first boat. Before she became pregnant with me, she’d sailed with them as the cook. Mom looked so happy, just beaming at the camera and holding Dad’s hand with the sea in the background. I was conceived on that boat. I became a man on that boat. I finally decided it was ridiculous to give up something I’d learned to enjoy out of grief. It would have been easier to leave Beverly on the coast, but I’d already bought the new office building in St. Paul and I was determined to stay put for a while. So I paid an exorbitant amount to get her moved up here after I found the perfect dock for her.”

  “Why did you pick St. Paul, though? Especially when you already have so many homes sprinkled across the globe.”

  “I grew up in St. Paul just down the street from Ricardo. Mom worked at the Pioneer Press for years and years. It just felt like coming home.”

  She fell silent, and after a few moments, he realized she was falling asleep. Lulled by the rocking of the boat and the warmth, his sleepyhead was finally getting the nap he’d promised her.

  Staring up at the patches of blue sky cut by the tree limbs, he held her and listened to her deepening breathing. He smelled her hair, tamed by the braid she’d put her hair into fresh out of the shower this morning. He’d never told anyone the whole story of his life and his love/hate relationship with his father and the sea. No one had ever asked.

  If I hadn’t decided to come back to St. Paul…

  If I hadn’t decided to buy the rundown old post office…

  I wouldn’t be here now. With Lilly’s head on my shoulder. I wouldn’t be wondering exactly what else she’d stuck into the black bag. I wouldn’t be smiling at the thought of what she might do with chocolate pie.

  For the first time since he’d been coming up to Lake Minnetonka, he didn’t have to strip all his clothes off and lie in the sun to feel any warmth. Not when he had this woman lying beside him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Waking up with a hardening dick pressed against her backside was something Lilly decided she could definitely get used to.

  Donovan held himself very still, probably trying to be gracious and not wake her up yet again, but she could tell he was awake by his careful, shallow breathing. Maybe he’d never even fallen asleep. “If you’re good with four or five hours of sleep a night, we’re going to have to work out some kind of sleeping schedule or I’m going to be as grouchy as I was this morning all day long.”

  “Sorry,” he nuzzled her neck, tightening his arm around her waist. “I did doze off for a while. I tried to let you sleep.”

  “Is this where you do the sunbathing that made your ass such a pretty brown?”

  “If there aren’t any boats in the area, sure, though I like to use the rooftop deck at the lake house too. I’m secluded enough I don’t have to worry about streaking around unless a helicopter decides to fly over.”

  She rolled over onto her back and gave him a wicked smile. “If your delicate sensibilities find this place secluded enough to go butt naked, then maybe you wouldn’t be opposed if I fuck you out here in the open.”

  “Five.” His voice deepened, his eyes dark and slumberous. “I wouldn’t mind as long as a boat doesn’t pull up and start videotaping. The last thing I’d want is anyone to see what is mine alone.”

  Ah, her submissive was quite possessive. Maybe he wouldn’t mind his bare ass getting recorded, but he sure wouldn’t take a boob shot of her going viral very well. “Well it’s too bad you didn’t grab my bag I stowed in your car.”

  His breathing quickened and she didn’t miss the surge in his shorts, even though he tried to keep his face smooth. “Before we left, I made sure your bag was stowed on board. Just in case.”

  “Then maybe you wouldn’t mind if I gave you a few good swats before I fuck you.”

  “Six,” he answered a little more breathlessly. “And I wouldn’t mind. Far from it.”

  She sat up and pulled her shirt over her head, revealing one of the lacy scraps he’d bought for her. No black or red or white for this submissive. His favorite color was definitely blue, though all shades from navy to baby and everything in between seemed to work for him. “Then go get my toys, lover boy. But drop your pants first. I want to see that gorgeous ass run to do my bidding.”

  He flashed a grin and dropped the shorts in record time, no fumbling or nervousness this time. “Yes, Mistress.”

  No doubt he’d be quick, so she made short time of her own clothing, although she left her bra and panties on for now. If someone did happen along, it’d be no different than if she were wearing a bikini. Plus, he’d bought these for her. The least she could do was wear them to torment him. Although he might not have picked them out at all—he probably paid an underling to simply throw a few things into a bag and call it shopping.

  By the time he returned with her equipment, she’d managed to stack some of the pillows in the center of the padded mattress. She sat on the bench sipping the Perrier he’d gotten out earlier, even though it was hot now. The bottle probably cost a few bucks. She sure wasn’t going to waste it.

  He set the bag at her feet and stood expectantly, trying to keep his wondering gaze from the pile of pillows.

  “We’re going to have to work on your manners, Donovan.”

  His eyes tightened, either offended or rebellious, she couldn’t decide yet. Probably offended, because she doubted Mr. Morgan had much cause for such a complaint in the real world. Even when he’d been trying to antagonize her the first day, he’d still been polite about it. “Why would you say that, Mistress?”

  She capped the water and set it aside. “It’s always nice to see a sub go to his knees in front of his Mistress, especially when he’s wanting her to punish him.”

  His shoulders stiffened, his jaw worked, and yeah, his knees locked ramrod straight. He didn’t blurt out an argument or excuse, but he didn’t go to his knees either. He wants to be conquered. Forced into subm
ission. Good thing I’m the woman to handle him.

  “I see.” Nodding, she let her mouth quirk with amusement. “I’m going to have to convince you to go to your knees. Is that it?”

  His chin inched up, his shoulders wide and square with defiance. She could almost see him straightening his tie or tugging his sleeves smooth beneath one of those sleek, expensive suits. “I’m not into humiliation. Mistress.”

  “All right.” She unzipped the bag and rummaged around to find the crop. As if she didn’t have a care in the world, she laid it across her lap and set the bag aside. “That’s too bad. I was going to give you the fantasy you mentioned. Never mind, though. We’ll just cut to the chase.”

  His brow wrinkled and then deepened to a chasm once he figured out what he might have missed out on.

  “What’s the count, Donovan?”

  “Six, Mistress,” he growled out, eyes blazing. “I would have gone on my knees if I’d known that’s what you were offering.”

  “Too late,” she said breezily. “But don’t worry about it. I’ll bring you to your knees easily enough. What’s your safeword, Donovan?”

  “Glass.” His mouth flattened out as if she’d called him Mr. Morgan again. “But I won’t need it.”

  His pride might get one of them hurt. If she went down the wrong road with him and he didn’t stop her because of his macho ego, it would be bad, bad news. “Another thing I’m going to have to work on. I’ll tackle that bridge another day, though. For now, I promised you a swat for each potty word that offended you. You also agreed I could add to the count when your ostentatious ways offended me. So, six swats in all. That’s hardly even a warm up for me, but we’ve got to start somewhere. I’ll try to curse more so you can have more fun later tonight.”

  “And I’ll try to blow more money on you.”

  “Don’t even think about it. Since you don’t like your knees, I’m going to change up my plans and save Your Majesty from having to bend over the stack of pillows to make it easier for me to strike your ass. You’re going to have to stand right here in front of me. Of course I won’t be able to fire up that ass as much as I’d like, but it’ll have to do until you’re eager to go on your knees, lifting your pretty ass up, just begging for my blows.”

  He did look like royalty, almost sniffing with disdain at the thought, though his cheeks did color nicely. Oh what a tempting picture that would make. Donovan Morgan ass high, both sets of cheeks on fire.

  Reaching down in the bag, she found her favorite set of manacles, leather cuffs lined with soft fur. Comfortable, but tough. Certainly tough enough for him. “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  Seemingly casual, he did so, but his knuckles were turning white, his fingers curled into fists. She wrapped her hand around his left wrist and he jumped. “Are you sure you’re okay with bondage?”

  “Yes.”

  She waited a moment to see what else he might say or do, but he remained silent. His body didn’t lie though. His cock rose hard and high, already glistening with his excitement. If he enjoys this as much as I think he’s going to, it’ll make this test a hell of a lot easier.

  Wrapping the cuff around his wrist, she made sure to buckle it nice and tight, followed by his other. “I can’t wait to get your collar, Donovan. As soon as we’re back in the Twins, I need to go shopping.”

  “I’ll drive you.”

  “Then it won’t be a surprise, so no. And you’re not buying it, either.”

  He turned back around, eyes blazing with lust and anger both, a delightfully combustible mix. “You promised you wouldn’t drive.”

  “I never said any such thing. Those exact words never passed my lips.”

  His own lips went tight, a flat, furious slant and the red staining his cheeks went even higher. “You did. You said—”

  “I said when I need to see you, I’d agree to wait for you to pick me up. If you want to send a car after me, I’m happy for the ride. I even agreed I wouldn’t ride the bus. But I never said I wouldn’t ever drive my own car when I need to go somewhere.”

  “You know what I meant. You will—”

  “Donovan.” She lowered her voice to the deepest register she could manage. “Shut that lush, tempting mouth before I shut it for you.”

  Goose bumps broke out on his arms and he clamped his mouth shut. He still vibrated with anger, but he obeyed.

  “Very good, Donovan. I love it when you immediately leap to do my bidding.” She had to laugh because his throat worked like he had to physically swallow the arguments down. She couldn’t help but feed his fiery passion just a little. “You’re so pretty when you’re mad.”

  Tendons roped in his shoulders, his arms tightening against the cuffs. Testing her bonds like he tested her will. His eyes narrowed on her, and though he didn’t say a word, she saw dark dangerous thoughts fluttering around in his mind.

  Good. He ought to have second thoughts. He ought to question whether this is a good idea. He needs to fear me a little and respect the devious twisted things I might come up with to do to him.

  Like this.

  Smiling, she lightly tapped his thigh with the crop, just to make sure she had his attention. “Six blows only, so make them worth your while. Your only goal today is to last until the sixth blow is delivered. You’re not allowed to come before. Do you think you can last that long, Donovan?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” His voice vibrated low and mean despite his agreeable response.

  “If you pass this test, then I’ll reward you with a real thrashing. Do you know what that means, lover boy? I’ll use this crop until you beg me on your knees to fuck you or you give your safeword. Those are the only two ways the scene ends. Are you ready?”

  His chest heaved and he didn’t answer right away. He was still aroused, but he strained against the bonds harder than ever. His weight shifted, like he was thinking about taking a step back from her, an involuntary protective instinct. He wasn’t settled and eager, but nervous and anxious and yes, furious. Furious she even thought about making him beg.

  And deathly afraid I have the power to do exactly that.

  “We can end this right now, Donovan. Give me your safeword and I’ll wipe the count away. We’ll smear chocolate pie on each other tonight and that’ll be the end of it.”

  He wanted a thrashing, though. She could see the darkness spreading in his eyes. He’d had just a taste of pain from her so far and he’d loved it. It’s what he’d sought all these years and never been able to find, not the way he wanted.

  Until last night.

  “I’m ready, Mistress.”

  “Very good, Donovan. Let me prepare the way.”

  His eyes flickered with uncertainty, his head tipping a little as he thought about what she meant. She didn’t keep him in suspense very long.

  She leaned forward and licked the head of his cock.

  His eyes flared wide and his hips jerked convulsively. She licked him again, chasing that bobbing head to keep up the torment until he dared take a step back.

  Slowly, she stood up, lightly tapping the crop against her thigh. She circled him, whacking her own skin hard enough he’d hear it. He’d know the blow was going to come. Sweat beaded on his forehead. “Count them out, Donovan.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She laid the crop against his back and trailed the leather down his spine in a light, teasing caress. Muscles flinched and twitched beneath her advance and he widened his stance, planting his feet firmly. And yeah, he arched his back, lifting his backside for the coming blow.

  Instead, she reached out and gripped his butt cheek firmly in her other hand. Kneading and massaging, she worked the muscle hard and deep, switching to the other side. Only when some of his tenseness faded did she step back and land a blow on his ass so hard and quick he didn’t have time to prepare for it.

  He grunted, his breath whooshing out. A red mark popped up on his skin but she’d controlled the blow. Heat and sting, a nice hard thud. N
ot too much of a cut to start. He ought to enjoy it enough to want another and another.

  “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.