The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Read online

  He didn’t back away from the shoulder bump. In fact, he bumped her back, nudging his way deeper into her personal space. He even slid his right foot in front of hers, like he was trying to block her out from her own portfolio.

  Lilly cast a quick glance at the secretary. Rooted into place, she watched their interaction with wide eyes, rubbing her arms like she had goose bumps. Some people were sensitive to this kind of energy play, and between her calm assertiveness and his aggressive pissing-match attitude, the energy was definitely high in the spacious office. Maybe he didn’t even realize his secretary still watched. “What do you think, Miss…?”

  “Wruthers,” the secretary spoke with a delicate breathy voice. “Isn’t stained glass rather…antiquated? If you were going to remodel the building…”

  He let out a low growl, whether from irritation because his underling dared disagree with him or mere frustration that Lilly wasn’t intimidated, she couldn’t be sure. “That’ll be all, Miss Wruthers.”

  Evidently the young woman hadn’t been in his employ very long, because she winced and paled, hurt by his callous reply. She scurried out and the door thumped behind her a little too loudly.

  He stretched, arching his back even while he leaned down over her work, resting his elbow on the desk casually. For such a lean man, he exhibited quite the nicely rounded ass. It was all she could do not to give him a good, hard swat and see how high he’d jump. “Where were we?”

  Lilly let her mouth quirk since he wasn’t looking at her. Silly boy. He really needs a good thrashing.

  It’d be all too easy to press against him, letting her body weight urge him down against the desk. It’d be fun to have a big, powerful man like him beneath her, bristling with the urge to fight, but also strangely obedient. Knowing he was too strong, too big, that he could overpower her at any moment, but he chose not to… Instead, he chose to put himself into her hands, to let her do as she would. The ultimate power rush. That he was arrogant, gorgeous and used to being the alpha CEO in all aspects of his life only made it hotter.

  Lost in such a tantalizing fantasy, it took her a moment to realize she was pressed against the back of his leg, hugging his thigh with both of hers. Practically riding him. Either he’d backed further into her space or she’d leaned into him. She couldn’t remember. Neither option was appropriate behavior in an office setting, certainly not when she didn’t even know what his inclinations were.

  Embarrassed, she jerked backward. “Pardon me, Mr. Morgan. I must have lost my balance.”

  He straightened and turned toward her, his dark eyes narrowed on her face. “Lost your balance?”

  She gave him a bright smile and without blinking or looking away, said, “I’m not used to wearing heels.”

  She had a feeling he knew she was lying but he decided not to call her on it. It wasn’t like he’d peeked into her closet and seen her glorious shoe collection. He settled on the edge of his desk, the epitome of casual male elegance. A wicked glint flickered in his eyes, a knowing smile on his lush lips warning he saw through her thinly veiled disguise that said “nothing to see, just an ordinary woman with boring, normal sexual desires”. Nothing dirty or naughty here. “I suppose you don’t get out very often.”

  “Rarely. I’m such a homebody.” She gave him a tiny smile back that said “I know you know I’m lying and I don’t give a fuck”. “Why don’t you show me the space you’re thinking about filling with stained glass? I can take some measurements and give you some ideas of what might work best.”

  “Of course.” He straightened, managing to make the movement a delicious, sinuous slide, drawing her gaze down all six-foot-plus length of him. He might have never really worked a day in his life, certainly not outside of an office setting, but his body coiled with sinew and lean muscle. There wouldn’t be much padding anywhere on him except that delectable backside. Nothing to stop the hard thud of a paddle. Or the cut of the crop.

  She gave herself a little shake, forcing those thoughts to the back corner of her mind. Later, she’d pull them out and let the fantasy unwind. She’d wonder what kind of fancy underwear he wore. Whether he really had a model’s body beneath the expensive suit or office flab. Whether the rest of him was as darkly tanned as his face and hands. How he’d sound when she brought the crop down on his ass.

  But only after I finish this commission. Until then, all business. Mistress L isn’t allowed to come out and play.

  Chapter Two

  God, she’s good. So good I’d pay a hundred thousand grand a month to have her at my beck and call.

  Donovan was sweating enough that his crisp white shirt stuck to him beneath his coat despite the air conditioning blasting. In just a few minutes of casual interaction, she’d managed to thaw him. He wasn’t frozen any longer, but burning up. Raging out of control. It was all he could do not to lock his office door and demand they reach an agreement now before she had the chance to walk out.

  Gathering her portfolio, Lilly continued the innocent yet saucy facade. She’d lied to his face without batting an eye. Such a skill would serve them both well if she were ever questioned by the media. The last thing he wanted was for any hint of his secret desire to get out. If it cost him a million dollars to ensure her secrecy, he’d do it. Hell, he was throbbing so hard he’d give her a blank check.

  She gave him a look that said there was a time and a place, and this was neither. And yeah, her gaze lingered on his crotch, so she had to know how aroused he was. Just from having her press against his back for a few tantalizing seconds. He’d wanted to curse out loud when she pulled away, but he had to admire her effort to remain professional. At least for now.

  I would have been face down on that desk in another few moments if she hadn’t pulled away.

  He took her arm and drew her firmly to his side as he led the way out of his office. The corner of her mouth quirked and she gave him a knowing sideways wink that made his cock twitch in his pants. Yeah, he led the way. But only because she’s letting me.

  Which was the crux of his issue. He wasn’t the kind of submissive who would whine and beg and crawl to his Mistress’s feet and kiss her toes. No. Donovan Morgan wasn’t going down without a fight. The difficulty was finding a Mistress who’d relish the fight as much as him. Someone who was strong enough mentally to bend him to her will, even when he hated every minute of it. Even if he swore he was never coming back. Never giving her what she wanted. She had to be strong enough to make him want to bend his pride to her will. He had to want to surrender.

  Lilly Harrison might just be strong enough to make me beg.

  The thought should have alarmed him. It certainly made him tighten his grip on her arm. He was probably hurting her, but he couldn’t let go. He was afraid she’d slip out of his office and out of his control before he could pin her into an agreement. He hustled her past Miss Wruthers’s desk without pausing, even when his secretary called after him waving the phone. As soon as the elevator doors whisked shut, he flattened his back against the wall and hauled Lilly against his chest.

  The little minx laughed at him. “Mr. Morgan, I fear you’ve lost your balance too.”

  “You have no idea.” His throat rasped painfully. “You must accept this commission.”

  She tipped her head sideways and gazed up at him with a solemn weight in her eyes, chilling the fire in his blood. “I don’t believe that’s a very good idea, Mr. Morgan.”

  “You must.”

  She arched a brow at him. “I don’t believe I must at all.”

  “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  She laughed, a deep, husky chuckle that made him think of velvet and leather and silken sheets tangled around him. “No doubt you’re used to throwing money at everyone to get what you want, but I’m not that easy, Mr. Morgan.”

  He shuddered and pulled her closer, deliberately arching his hips into her so she’d have no doubt of his reaction to her. It went against every stubborn arrogant bone in his body, but he forced th
e word out anyway. “Please.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Release me this instant, Mr. Morgan.”

  Her voice was pleasant enough. She didn’t use her words like a whip to lash him into compliance. She didn’t even give him a stern look from those stunning eyes. He’d thought them more blue than gray, but this close, her eyes gleamed like polished silver.

  “Now.”

  Again, her voice remained level and almost sweet. Certainly feminine and far from mean and nasty. He didn’t want to obey. He wanted her to get angry and harsh with him, to wrestle him into sweaty submission, but again, this wasn’t the time and certainly not the place. Frustrated, he let go of her and made no objection when she straightened and put a polite distance between them. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, allowing the noise of the plaza level to separate them even more. Running his hand through his hair, he fought to keep his mouth shut. His ridiculous, obstinate behavior certainly wouldn’t help convince her to accept his commission, let alone open her mind to pursuing a more private relationship with him. Good submissives obeyed the Mistress without question. They certainly didn’t manhandle the Mistress against her direct order.

  Which is why I’m not a good submissive and I have no Mistress.

  She turned her head slightly, whispered, “Good boy,” then stepped out of the elevator, leaving him to follow in her wake.

  Stunned, he had to throw up a hand to keep the elevator doors from shutting and taking him back upstairs. People waited to get on, and here he stood with his mouth hanging open and his pants tented like a randy teenager. Lilly paused, looking back over her shoulder with a wicked little smile dimpling her cheek, all innocence and saucy attitude that made him crazy. He wanted to make her lose her calm amusement. He wanted to hear her voice crack with fury, her eyes sharp and cold as she punished him. Not winking, silently laughing at him for still standing on the elevator like a dumbfounded idiot.

  Grinding his teeth, he pushed his way out of the elevator and stomped after her. His face was on fire, blazing with humiliation and yes, relief. He’d managed to please the Mistress, at least a little, despite his stubborn pride. Even though obeying a simple common-sense command made his spine bristle and his stomach churn. The whispered praise gave him hope she might consider his offer despite his numerous failings. And he had no doubt that his failings as a submissive would give her significant pause.

  If I must trick her into accepting me at least for a while, I’ll do it. I’ll do whatever it takes. Even if I have to blackmail her into accepting my contract.

  Somehow, Mr. Morgan knew exactly what kind of woman she was. Maybe he’d asked around at a club? Though she hadn’t done the club scene in years. She hadn’t needed to, not with her own steady clientele. Could one of her subs have broken her rules and told someone else about her? She’d been very careful in the contract she’d had each man sign. Referrals were allowed, but only if he spoke to her about the interested party first before ever giving her name to anyone else.

  Lilly quickly ran the list of her acquaintances through her head, trying to see if any of them would be the type to go behind her back. She didn’t think so. She’d been with them all at least a year without issue, except for the Hamiltons, and trusted their loyalty without question. But if Mr. Morgan had waved enough money around…

  Anyone would talk.

  Sick to her stomach at the thought one of her trusted subs had betrayed her, she slowed and allowed Mr. Morgan to take the lead again. She had no idea where he wanted these windows, so charging around just to prove a point would be beyond stupid. She wanted to ask him who’d told him about her, but that would put her at a disadvantage. If he knew she wanted something, he’d have leverage. If I give him an inch, he’ll take a mile and keep right on steamrolling me into the ground.

  The tips of his ears and his cheeks were red and he avoided making eye contact. Maybe she’d misjudged him. Maybe the little whisper of praise was too much for a man of his pride. Good. Problem solved. He might change his mind about this so-called commission, but it’d be worth it to avoid entangling herself with this kind of rich and powerful man. The kind of man who’d track down her clients and pay them to betray her. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d stoop to blackmail too.

  He led the way to the side exit providing access to the new light rail depot. Steady foot traffic passed between the buildings, though the frantic flood of workers heading to lunch had ebbed. “Since the building’s exterior is an art-deco style, I want something similar for these windows.”

  Her stomach quivered like she’d just jumped off a cliff. Staring up at the soaring glass, she tried not to let her mouth hang open or her hands tremble. Two full stories of glass a city block wide, visible from both the ground and skyway levels, separated his building from thousands of potential viewers using the new trains. She spared a glance at his face to see if he was serious. “The whole wall?”

  “Top to floor,” he replied levelly, a hint of challenge glinting in his chocolate eyes. “Is the job too big for you?”

  “Honestly, yes, as much as it pains me to admit.” His eyes flickered with surprise. “Mr. Morgan, it would take a twenty-man crew months to complete such a massive job. Maybe years. I really don’t know. Single handedly, I don’t know if I could complete it in my lifetime, even if I had the design in my hands today.” By the way his brow furrowed, she could see he had no idea of the magnitude of the work involved. “One pane is easily a thousand individual pieces of glass which must be perfectly cut and smoothed. Not to mention the scope of the project overall. What kind of design are you looking for in this space?”

  He shrugged. “You tell me. As long as it matches the building’s decor, I don’t care.”

  “That’s not good enough for me, Mr. Morgan. I’m an artist, not Walmart. I don’t do cookie-cutter designs that anyone could find in a yard sale.”

  “I know. That’s why I picked you.”

  Is it? She bit her lip but didn’t say it aloud. Somehow she had the feeling he’d found her first by her secret profession. The stained glass commission was merely the bait to get her here. It wounded the artist in her, even though the challenge of such a massive project made her nerves tingle with excitement and dread. This kind of project was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the risk…

  “I have an idea.” She looked back into his face and didn’t like what she saw. The shuttered look in his eyes told her he was up to something. “Why don’t you show me what kind of work we’re talking about here?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I want to see your shop. Watch you work. Show me exactly what’s involved.”

  Alarm bells started going off in her head. Her shop was in her garage. Basically, he wanted her to take him home. And by the smug curve of his lips, he knew it.

  Bad idea, Lilly. Hugely bad. Remember the elevator? Do you really want to be alone with him, let alone in your house?

  She never took clients home, her sacred space. Even if he had absolutely no idea his stained glass artist was also Mistress L, she’d have to be an idiot to allow a stranger into her home. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Mr. Morgan.”

  Ignoring her concern, he pulled out his cell phone and made a call. “Miss Wruthers, I’m going to be out the rest of the afternoon. Miss Harrison is going to give me a tutorial in stained glass so I know exactly the amount of work involved.”

  Lilly kept her expression neutral, even though his heavy-handed assumption that she’d so easily capitulate pissed her off. At least his secretary was a witness to his whereabouts, although as much as he probably paid her, she’d lie on a stack of Bibles if hard pressed. As soon as he hung up, Lilly smiled sweetly at him, even while she jabbed him in the chest with her finger. “Do you think I’m an utter moron?”

  “What? Of course not.”

  “I don’t ever take clients home with me, let alone complete strangers.”

  His eyes narrowed and he gave her an ugly sneer. “I’m not you
r client.”

  Lilly knew that tone of voice. She read his disdain and disgust in the twist of his lips, the flare of his nostrils. How does he know? “I don’t take orders from any man, let alone from assholes.”

  Stiffly, she stepped into the flow of pedestrians headed to the next building.

  “Miss Harrison!” Startled cries broke out and she glanced back to see him pushing people out of his way to barrel toward her. “Lilly, wait!”

  “Go to hell, Mr. Morgan.”

  Chapter Three

  “What a douchebag.”

  No wonder Marie was her best friend. Lilly gave her a hug and then flopped into her recliner, while her friend sat on the adjacent loveseat. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Anytime, hon. You’re not going to pick up his project, are you?”

  “I told him to go to hell, so I doubt I’ll hear from him again.” She laughed wryly. “It would have been a magnificent, terrifyingly wonderful project too. The scope, the scale of it… I really don’t know if I could have pulled it off singlehandedly.”

  “You could have. I don’t doubt that for a moment.” Marie took a sip from her wine glass. “So you think he knows about Mistress L?”

  “He sure acted like it.” Lilly frowned, nibbling on her lip. “I just can’t believe one of my clients would have talked to him, though.”

  Marie studied the red wine for several long moments before finally saying, “You trust them that much?”

  “I do, but evidently that makes me a fool.” Lilly didn’t have any secrets from her best friend. Marie certainly didn’t judge her lifestyle, but she didn’t understand it, either. “It definitely makes me doubt, which is bad. I can’t pull off what they need if there’s any doubt in my mind.”

  “I know we’ve talked about this before, but I still don’t get it.” Marie smiled at her apologetically. “I understand what they get from you, but what do you get from them?”

  It was hard to explain. Mistress L had started out at the local BDSM club three years ago as Lilly tried to find what she’d been searching for her whole life. She’d dated. She’d had plenty of sex, some good, some not so good. She’d even been engaged. But there’d been an emptiness inside her the entire time, an aching, gnawing lack, even though she didn’t know what it was. She’d found it at the club once she’d taken a crop in her hand. “They test me. It’s like each time I give them an order, and they do it, then I’ve proved my strength and will again. If they don’t obey, then I have to prove I’m strong enough to punish them until they do. Regardless, I’m growing every single day and becoming even stronger.”