The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Page 5

  Ah, so that’s her game. She deliberately wore this outrageously sexy outfit to make sure she gets what she wants.

  With a glare, he retorted, “It’s not going to work.”

  Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him innocently. “What’s not going to work?”

  “This.” He waved a hand at her and averted his gaze, sure he blushed like a virgin. Which only made his cheeks burn hotter. “Some sexy clothes aren’t going to make me lose my head and give you what you want.”

  The door opened and Miss Wruthers scurried in with a cup of coffee. Wide eyed, she froze at the corner of his desk, her gaze flickering between them both.

  Lilly lounged in her chair in a sexy drape of negligent ease that made him want to leap up and pace frantically again. Or better yet, maybe he’d just bury his face in her cleavage. “You’re going to give me exactly what I want, Mr. Morgan, and it’s not going to be because of my clothes.”

  Miss Wruthers made a low, desperate sound like a bleat and plopped the cup on the desk hard enough some of it sloshed out onto the cherry top. She let out another frantic cry and ran around the desk to the filing cabinet on the other side of the room, rummaging around loudly in search of something to mop up the stain.

  Lilly bent down again, and he swore a button of her blouse must have popped open because he saw even more cleavage this time. The brown of her aureoles peeked above the corset. “Don’t worry, Miss Wruthers, I have a napkin right here. I’m such a slob I always carry around some wipes to clean up after myself.”

  She rose up enough to blot the spilled coffee, giving him a wink that made him think about why she might have napkins and wipes stowed in her bag. Other messes she might find necessary to clean. He very nearly groaned out loud.

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Morgan.” Miss Wruthers wrung her hands. “Let me get you another cup.”

  He forced himself to turn his head and look at her. Anything to get his gaze off Lilly before he embarrassed himself. “It’s all right, Miss Wruthers.” He even managed a smile, though it was stiff and hurt his face. “This cup is fine, though I’m sure Miss Harrison would like a cup too.”

  “Of course. How do you like your coffee, ma’am?”

  Lilly handed her the wet napkin. “Strong and stout with just a splash of cream to soften the bite.”

  Damn it, she even made coffee sound wicked.

  “Right away.”

  They waited in silence for the promised cup. Lilly watched him with a smile hovering on her luscious lips, while he was afraid he probably looked at her like a poisonous viper was ready to devour him. He drummed his fingers on the desk, which made her lips curve even more. So he picked up the cup and took a big drink, practically spluttering it all over himself when he burned all the taste buds off the top of his tongue. Great. Just what I needed. A sore tongue. If I was going to have a sore tongue, I thought it’d be because…

  He slammed the door shut, locked it and mentally threw away the key.

  “Here’s your cup, ma’am.” His secretary practically thrust the cup into Lilly’s hands and then fled to the door. “If you need anything else, just ring, sir.”

  He waited until the door closed. Then he took another drink of the coffee, carefully this time so he didn’t fry his whole mouth. Another sip. Determined to let her speak first, he refused to even look at her. Even when she bent down to pull something out of her bag again.

  “I took the liberty of making a few adjustments to both contracts after consulting with my personal attorney last night. I’ve written in my requirements and struck out a few clauses that I don’t agree to. Where should we start, Mr. Morgan?”

  He cleared his throat and picked up his favorite pen. His father had given it to him upon his college graduation and he’d carried it ever since. The solid weight of the fountain pen helped him regain his sense of balance and purpose. “Let’s begin with the stained glass commission.” I’ll be on solid ground there.

  She passed the papers to him and sipped her coffee while he scanned through her adjustments. For the most part, she’d accepted his contract, which was pretty standard industry wide promising payment for an art project. She would provide detailed designs within thirty days in writing, and he’d have to approve them, again in writing, before she would begin work to protect herself in the end if he decided he hated the artwork. He would cover the costs of materials and extra labor, including additional workshop space. He nodded, all smart adjustments now that he understood more about her shop’s small setup. She’d also modified the due date to clarify there’d be no penalties incurred but that she’d target the project completion for Christmas, assuming the design and material timetables were all approved on schedule.

  After learning more about the amount of work involved, he was surprised she didn’t add a few additional zeroes to the flat sum of fifty thousand dollars he’d promised above and beyond the cost of materials and labor she’d have to hire out. But she knew her business, and if she was happy with the amount, so be it. She’d be making considerably more as his Mistress anyway.

  He initialed each of the additions and then passed his favorite pen to her for her to add her signature.

  With a flourish, she signed her name and then passed the pen back to him. Her fingers touched his and he felt the searing contact all the way down to his cock.

  “And now the more private contract.” She reached down again and pulled out the smaller stack of papers. “Before I show you the changes I made to your contract, I thought I’d show you the contract I typically offer my clients.”

  His palms were sweating enough that the paper stuck to his skin. He spread the two pages—only two!—out before him and began to read, determined to read the whole thing before he spared a glance at her. Fully aware she would be watching and judging his reaction, he schooled his face to the calm, detached businessman’s mask he typically wore every single moment, day in and day out, until he wanted to rip out his own eyes and roar at the top of his lungs.

  The submissive will thoroughly answer the Mistress’s questionnaire to the best of his ability. The submissive is completely responsible for notifying the Mistress of any medical or personal issues that require Her attention.

  A safeword will be selected prior to any scene. Once the safeword is given, the scene will stop immediately.

  Scenes may trigger unexpected memories or powerful and uncontrolled reactions from the submissive. In this case, the submissive will not be held accountable for breaking the Mistress’s orders. Before another regularly scheduled scene will be held, the submissive and Mistress must meet to discuss his reaction. The questionnaire will be revisited as needed to discuss limits and allowed physical contact.

  A scene will be one hour long, weekly or monthly in frequency, until either the Mistress or submissive requests the contract be terminated without penalty.

  After the scene, the submissive will provide payment of one thousand dollars to the Mistress. She may refuse to accept the funds if displeased with the submissive. The submissive may refuse to provide the funds if he’s displeased with the scene. Contract at that time will be terminated without further penalty.

  The submissive will not attempt to contact Mistress L in any way except through the specified email address and only to request a reschedule of a scene or termination of contract. Any attempt at contact outside of the scene will result in termination of the contract and cessation of all scheduled scenes.

  Referrals are allowed, but only if a.) The sub knows the person in question personally and is willing to vouch for their character, and b.) The Mistress agrees to meet the referral prior to any information being shared with the potential sub. If the Mistress’s private email address or name is given to another without her express consent, all previously scheduled scenes will be canceled and this contract null and void.

  The Mistress will provide only the physical contact agreed to after the questionnaire has been answered completely. SEXUAL CONTACT IN ANY FORM INCLUDING KISSING, TOUCH
ING OF GENITALS, ORAL SEX, INTERCOURSE, OR PENETRATION OF ANY KIND (INCLUDING TOYS) IS EXPRESSLY FORBIDDEN.

  Even though no sexual contact is permitted, the submissive will provide a health screening to certify he’s clean of any communicable diseases including STDs and HIV. Mistress L’s certification is updated every six months and available at any time upon request. She will also provide a new health screening at any time at the client’s cost.

  Absolutely no exceptions.

  He took a deep, shaking breath and turned his head to the next page, the infamous questionnaire. This was simply a check-box list of various activities where the submissive could indicate interest, strong desire or strong aversion to the various BDSM activities Mistress L was willing to provide, such as various forms of punishment and humiliation. At the bottom, there were yes and no questions like, “I want to be completely nude for our scenes” or “I prefer to be bound for punishment”.

  Furious—at himself for leaping to such ridiculous conclusions about the luscious Mistress L—he spun his chair around and stared out the window so he didn’t have to look at her. And she can’t see my reaction. “It’s all very neat and tidy, Mistress L.”

  “Yes, it is,” she replied simply. “If there are services the submissive’s interested in which aren’t on my contract, then I’m not the appropriate Mistress for him to consider.”

  His hand clenched on the pen so hard it leaked ink on his hand. Idiot. You’re going to destroy your father’s last gift to you, and for what? Your pride? Utter despair? Years and years of emptiness and shallow relationships, meaningless sex that never scratches the bone-deep need I carry.

  “Given our discussion last night, I didn’t think this contract would be suitable for our…needs.”

  He almost wheeled back around to see her face. Surely she was joking again. Leading him on to get what she wanted. She played to his arrogant conclusions oh so well, leading him on only to shut him down like the fool he was. I thought she was the One. The one woman who would be able to see that need in me and for the first time in my life, meet it completely. I thought…

  Her hand came down on his right shoulder and he flinched so hard he almost fell out of his chair.

  “Donovan. Aren’t you even going to look at me?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut, even while his body lapped up such an insignificant touch like he’d just stumbled into a private harem of women dedicated to his every secret whim and desire. “I can’t.”

  She laughed softly, the sound running over his skin like silk. Her scent filled his nose, something spicy that made his mouth water. Warm and rich and sweet yet not flowery. This was an earthy scent. Raw passion. Sex. Heat. “Why not?”

  “Because if I look at you, I might very well drag you into my lap and ravish you.”

  When she plopped down into his lap, his eyes flew open with alarm. “You’re welcome to try.”

  Donovan swallowed so hard she could see his throat working beneath his tie and shirt. “Isn’t this kind of physical contact forbidden by your contract?”

  She had to congratulate him on his forbearance. He managed to keep his hands off her, even though one hand was clenched on the pen and the other gripped the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. “I guess you’ll have to read the new contract and see what’s forbidden and what’s allowed.”

  She squirmed deeper in his lap until his erection pressed against her hip. Clenching his teeth, he tossed the pen on his desk and clamped both hands on her shoulders. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Tormenting you.” She twisted her upper body toward him so she could prop one elbow on his chest. “Tormenting myself. Isn’t it fun?”

  “No.” His breathing was so ragged he sounded like an asthmatic. “Not fun. Not when I can’t…”

  “We haven’t come to any agreement yet, Donovan.” She loved the way his eyes dilated and his nostrils flared every time she said his name. It was almost as fun as watching his lips tighten into a firm slant when she punished him by returning to Mr. Morgan. “There aren’t any rules yet. I haven’t—”

  As she hoped, he broke every one of the rules he’d just read in her standard contract by pressing his lips to hers. He inhaled her lips, pushing his tongue into her welcoming mouth on a long, deep groan of need. She threaded her fingers in his dark hair and gripped his head firmly, keeping him pinned while she kissed him back. She sucked on his tongue, pressing her teeth into him until he groaned harder. His right hand immediately landed on her thigh and began the slide up beneath her skirt.

  Fisting her hand tighter in his hair, she pulled his head back to break the kiss. “Naughty, naughty boy. Let’s see… You’ve failed to answer the Mistress’s questionnaire, you’ve pressed your genitals against her, you’ve kissed her, and now you’re trying to find out what kind of panties she’s wearing.”

  “I’m a rule breaker.” His voice was rough and thick, his eyes heavy lidded with desire. Ignoring the pull of his hair, he pushed his hand up the inside of her thigh.

  And she let him. Because she wanted to see the way his eyes flared when he felt nothing but wet, hot flesh against his fingers.

  Shuddering against her, he buried his face against her chest. “Mistress.”

  She pressed her lips against his ear, holding him close. “Do you think I get this wet for my other clients, Donovan? Even if I did, they’d never be allowed to know it. And I promise you, I don’t. I’ve never been sexually attracted to any of my clients. Hence my very strict and clean contract.”

  He didn’t try to get his fingers inside her, but merely cupped her flesh with his hand as though treasuring the intimacy and what it meant.

  She wanted him. As a man and as a submissive. She was letting him touch her. As a man. With no contract in place.

  Nipping his ear, she pulled back and waited for him to look into her face. “Are we clear on what kind of services I’ve offered in the past?”

  He nodded, his dark gaze locked to hers. “Are we clear that I’m going to require more from you than punishment and orders?”

  Arching her hips into his caress, she let her voice thicken with desire. “Crystal.”

  “And you’ll be willing… I mean…” He couldn’t quite unbend his arrogance enough to say it. Yet.

  She smiled and disentangled enough to stand and move back to her own chair. She walked slowly, basking in the way he devoured her every move, slowly turning in his chair until he faced her once more. “I assure you that I’m perfectly willing and able to give you exactly what you need, Donovan. In fact, I’d like nothing better than to indulge right this very moment, but I’m afraid Miss Wruthers might faint dead away if she came in and found you stretched out on top of your desk with your pants down around your ankles.”

  His eyes fell shut and he dropped his head back against his chair, breathing deeply. She watched the struggle to bring himself back under control. Yet the arrogant rule breaker couldn’t resist pushing back. “Are you punishing me or…”

  His words fell off and he cracked open an eye to see her reaction. His face stilled into the more guarded mask of privileged indifference, hiding the fragile glimpse of raw lust trying to burst into life in his eyes.

  He’s protecting himself. If he sets his expectations too high, he’ll only be disappointed.

  Moved by his vulnerability, even though he’d deny it vehemently if pressed, she busied herself pulling out the rest of the papers. “Some Mistresses don’t believe in giving any pleasure to the submissive. The sub exists for his Mistress’s pleasure, not the other way around. If he’s not on his knees worshiping her with his tongue, then he hasn’t learned his place and must be punished. I’m not that kind of Mistress.”

  He accepted the new stack of papers and even dropped his gaze to them, but his eyes didn’t move across the page. He’s not reading them. Yet. “I won’t deny there’s a certain appeal to that image.”

  “The sub on his knees or me punishing you on your desk?”

  He
smiled faintly but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and he didn’t meet her gaze. “Both.”

  “But…?” When he shrugged and flipped the page, even though he couldn’t have read it yet, she said what he could not yet bring himself to admit. “You’re hoping for a Mistress who’s as eager to give pleasure as receive it.”

  She’d never seen such a powerful and obnoxiously gorgeous man blush so prettily. Again, a shrug, without lifting his eyes from the page.

  “If I had your pants down around your ankles, I’d have to give you a blow job you wouldn’t soon forget. While I punished you.”

  There, his eyes met hers, all searing intensity and pulsing with rising desire. “You would do that?”

  For me? He didn’t say the last two words, but she heard it and it broke her heart. She was beginning to believe his arrogant asshole role was just a mask he wore to protect the inside submissive who feared no one would ever be able to love him as he was, no matter how much wealth he possessed. “Absolutely.”

  His gaze wandered to the door briefly, as though he was contemplating locking it so he could test her honesty. When he looked back into her face, she didn’t like the shield he wore once more. “How much is it going to cost me?”

  It took all her will not to reveal how much it hurt. He’s only striking out to make sure I don’t hurt him first. It’s his natural survival instinct.

  But it still sucked.

  Keeping her voice light, she gave a nod to the papers he’d been pretending to read. “You tell me.”

  His eyes tightened, narrowing on her face as if he sensed she was hiding something beneath the surface. Then he flipped back to the beginning of the contract where he’d originally offered Mistress L the sum of one hundred thousand dollars a month to be his. “You crossed out this entire clause.”

  “Yes.”

  He raised his head, suspicion grooved into deep lines between his eyes. “You didn’t write in an alternative amount.”