Bound to the Billionaire

by Natalie Dae

  “No. And never with a submissive. Hiding things from me is to your disadvantage.” With a brow raised, he added, “Stalling any longer will earn you a punishment.”

  This time, she took a large drink of her wine.

  When she put down the glass, he moved it aside. “You’ve had enough,” he said.

  She twisted her hands together on the tabletop. She took her time formulating her words, but he waited without interrupting or giving her a way out. He’d asked a question, he expected an answer.

  “I hope I’m allowed to come.” She unclasped her hands, obviously having realised how much her actions were telegraphing her angst. “On the phone, you talked about flogging, and how it can be a sensual experience. I want to try that. I’d like to experience some nipple stimulation.”

  Her face flushed red. This was uncomfortable for her, and yet she was doing it, for him. Was there anything more alluring than a woman who was willing to risk her emotional comfort for her man?

  “And…”

  He waited a full thirty seconds before she spoke again.

  “Maybe a bit of humiliation…” She swallowed. Then with a whisper, she added, “Sir.”

  “We’ll go carefully there, until I know you better,” he said.

  “I would like to experience a spanking on my pussy.”

  “And sex?”

  “Intercourse is fine, as long as we use a condom.”

  “I have a private room reserved. Unless you’d rather play in public? If you like humiliation, that may be preferable.”

  “I’d prefer private for now. If that suits you, Sir?”

  “Please remain seated,” he said as he stood. He picked up his bag and put it on the top of the table. As he withdrew two full-grain leather items, she leant forward a bit. “Lift your hair.”

  She hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he said. He placed a collar around her throat. She swallowed deeply and reached up to feel it after he had tightened and adjusted it. Their gazes met, and her lips parted slightly. Clearly he’d shocked her, but in a good way. “How does that feel, sub?”

  It was the first time he’d addressed her that way. She blinked. He wondered about her internal reaction. Fear? Anticipation?

  She reached up and traced a fingertip across the top of the collar. “It’s surprisingly comfortable. It’s softer than I thought it would be.”

  All of his implements were handcrafted from the finest materials. He only inflicted pain deliberately and with great care.

  Once she’d dropped her hand, silently and unconsciously signalling him that she’d accepted the collar, he held up the other piece for her to see. “A leash,” he said. It too was supple, but amazingly sturdy. “Kneel while I attach it to the collar.”

  Chapter Three

  Myka licked her lower lip. He wanted her to kneel in the bar, in front of everyone, while he leashed her?

  “Concentrate on me,” he said. “No one here matters except for you and I. Only two things are important—pleasing me, and getting your needs met. You wanted to try humiliation, and you didn’t use your safe word. That means you’re more concerned with what others may think than you are frightened. Am I correct?”

  She nodded.

  “In that case, Myka, on your knees. Now.”

  When he used that tone of voice—implacable and stern—she would do nearly anything. Keeping her gaze on him, she eased herself onto her knees.

  “Generally I prefer that my subs keep their gaze downcast, but I don’t know you well enough yet. If you and I are interacting, I want you to focus on me unless I give you permission to close your eyes. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She was shocked how easily the word slipped out. Ever since she’d stepped on the elevator with him, he’d had her on edge.

  Having him send a car for her had been an exquisite pleasure. Tony had treated her with complete courtesy, even when she’d asked if she could sit up front with him. With her new outfit and all the lavish attention, she’d felt as if she were a princess going to a ball.

  When she’d arrived at the club, she’d had no idea what to expect. Tony had said he had instructions to wait for her. He’d be fired if he didn’t care for her properly.

  Jason, who’d greeted her at the door, had stunned her with his attire and especially with his pierced nipples. This wasn’t her usual kind of club.

  Phillip, though, was a man among men. He was dressed as if he’d come straight from work. A tailored jacket hugged his broad shoulders, his trousers were immaculately pressed, and his shoes reflected the overhead light. Everything about him radiated confidence and class.

  And he smelt… Masculine, pure and primal. The scent of woodsy soap combined with the heady sensuality of power intoxicated her. Her thoughts were jumbled, and she had to think about every word he said.

  Phillip wrapped a thick strand of leather around his hand. “Ask me to leash you.”

  She felt her cheeks stain. She had to clear her throat before she could speak clearly. “Sir, will you please leash me?” He smiled, and pleasure replaced the momentary pang of embarrassment.

  He efficiently attached the length to the hook on her collar. He gave an experimental tug, and she responded, leaning towards him.

  “Good,” he said. “This time I’ll allow you to walk behind me. Unless you’d prefer to crawl?”

  “Uhm, I want to walk. For sure.”

  He waited, his posture stiff, brow furrowed, as if expecting her to say something more.

  It took her a few seconds to remember her manners. “I’d prefer to walk, Sir, if it’s okay with you.”

  “Better,” he said. “But you’ve already been reminded how to address me. This time, I can’t allow it to go uncorrected.”

  “Sir?”

  “I intend to reinforce my message.”

  She frowned.

  “I am going to spank you, Myka. Here and now in full display of everyone in the bar. It’s your choice. You can accept the punishment or have Tony bring the car around.” There was no hostility in his tone, just a statement of fact.

  With his foot, he pulled his chair out from the table. He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the back of the chair. Then, with economical motions, he removed his cufflinks and dropped them on the table. The pieces of etched silver glittered in the overhead light. She stared at them, anything to escape the surreal moment.

  When he rolled up his sleeves, she looked back at him. He sat. “Across my lap, sub, if you please.”

  The sight of his tanned and strong forearms sent a shiver of trepidation down her spine. What the hell had she got herself into? It was one thing to read about this, another to be here, in public, disgraced.

  “And you’ll lift your skirt so your buttocks are completely exposed.”

  She wanted the floor to swallow her whole. Her heart slammed viciously against her ribs. She’d already learnt that he didn’t joke. But how could he expect her to expose her bottom in the bar? Over the half hour they’d been together, almost every table had been filled. Some couples were dressed in business wear, others in club attire, but none of the subs had been chastised. Besides, she was new to this. Shouldn’t that count for something? “I’m trying my best to understand how this all works. I promise to be good, Sir.” She offered a tentative smile, hoping to mitigate the determination he radiated.

  Implacably, he said, “Safe word out or get your ass across my lap.”

  She was still kneeling, and so she saw the firm set of his jaw. She thought for a few seconds. She could get out of this, but then she’d never know what she was missing. More than anything, she wanted this experience, even if she had to endure the ridiculousness of a spanking.

  He pulled on her leash. Mortified, she gritted her teeth. But she submitted to his will. Within seconds, she was across his lap like the errant novice she was.

  She would have preferred a different position, but he had placed her deliberately, her butt facing the aisle, so that anyon
e who wanted to see her could. Thankfully that meant the table more or less shielded her face.

  “The skirt,” he reminded her.

  “Yes, Sir.” It would have been easier for her if he just rolled it up. But this man didn’t allow her to hide.

  He didn’t help her as she reached back. She squirmed and wriggled. The tight skirt had been selected to turn him on, but it wasn’t easy to pull it up, especially in this position.

  “Nice,” he said, when the material was around her waist.

  She’d chosen a garter belt and sheer stockings, and a thin, lacy black thong. The thong, skimpy as it was, would help preserve some modesty.

  For a full thirty seconds, he didn’t move and didn’t speak. She just stayed there, exposed, eyes closed, wishing the punishment was complete.

  “How many spanks do you deserve?”

  Over the past few days, she’d done a fair amount of reading, fiction and nonfiction, and she’d devoured everything he’d sent her. She figured the correct answer was either six or eight, but she’d never been spanked before, and she was afraid to receive even two. “Six, Sir.” Since she couldn’t see him, she couldn’t tell whether her answer pleased him or not.

  “Ask for your punishment, Myka.”

  Did his sadism know no bounds? “Please spank me, Sir.”

  “Count after each strike. And I suggest you remember your manners.”

  He rubbed her buttocks gently. She began to relax under his tender touch, and her breathing evened. She felt the first stirrings of pleasure, but it remained just out of reach. If this continued, it wouldn’t be all bad. It seemed his ministrations were linked to her clit. She sighed, almost forgetting she was bare in front of the club’s patrons.

  Moments later, he massaged her flesh faster, and with more pressure. This wasn’t pleasure. She clenched her hands.

  Before she was prepared, he struck her buttocks with his open hand.

  She yelped and tried to stand. “Christ! That hurt.”

  “The correct response is, ‘One, thank you, Sir’,” he said as he forced her back into position.

  “I…”

  “Would you like to begin again?”

  She ceased her struggles. Now that the instant searing pain had dissipated, a strange pleasure had replaced the hurt. She sucked in a deep steadying breath. “One. Thank you, Sir.”

  “This can take as long as you dictate, Myka. We can get it over quickly, or you can fuss and drag it on.”

  “I’m ready, Sir.”

  “Good girl.”

  He caught her under her right buttock. She winced but quickly said, “Thank you, Sir. Two.”

  The third was placed on her left buttock. She clenched her hands, and her fingernails dug into her palms. She counted, and remembered her manners.

  By the fourth, she’d found a rhythm. She grabbed hold of the chair legs for balance, and she stopped fighting against him.

  The fifth strike, on top of two previous ones, made her scream. She kicked her legs, no longer caring who was watching. This was complete physical and emotional overload. Nothing she’d read or fantasised about had prepared her for this… He was uncompromisingly harsh.

  He moved their positions slightly so that he trapped her legs between his much stronger ones. With her legs imprisoned and one of his hands on her back forcing her upper body towards the floor, she was completely confined.

  “We’ll repeat that one,” he said. “Or use your safe word to stop this at any time.”

  He waited.

  Fuck you. Sir. She refused to lose this battle, refused to be sent home. “I’m ready for you to continue, Sir.”

  With blazing ferocity, he repeated the fifth spank. “Thank you, Sir.” Tears stung her eyes. “Five.”

  “Much better,” he said as he stroked a hand down the backs of her thighs. “You’re pleasing me.”

  His touch and soothing voice calmed her. She exhaled and relaxed as much as she could.

  Although the sixth seared as badly as the others, she surrendered to it instead of fighting him and herself. “Six, thank you, Sir.”

  “You may kneel, with your skirt still up.”

  He helped her into position. It was a good thing, because she wasn’t sure she could move on her own. His attentions had overwhelmed her, more from an emotional standpoint than from a physical one.

  He left her in place for what seemed like an eternity while he turned his back to her and situated his bag, fastening all the metal closures. Others who had shown a momentary interest in her punishment—more because she’d screamed than anything else—had returned to their conversations. She looked down at the floor and schooled her breathing. As she remained silently in place, she had several realisations. She was intrigued by BDSM to want to experiment a bit. But this was his lifestyle, not a game. Her breach of protocol was a serious offence. If she wanted to have a scene with him, she needed to honour his rules.

  She knelt quietly with her thoughts, and she no longer felt embarrassment. No one paid any attention to her. No one except her temporary Dom.

  He came around in front of her, crouched, captured her chin with his thumb and forefinger, and tipped her head back slightly.

  “Look at me,” he said quietly.

  She did.

  His jaw was no longer set in a frightening line. His brows were relaxed. His touch was firm, but somehow reassuring. With his free hand, he swept strands of hair back from her face, then he used the pad of his thumb to ease away the tracks of an errant tear.

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she whispered. And she was. The spanking had been effective in several ways. First, she’d recognised she’d been out of line. Second, there was no doubt who was in control here. He’d effortlessly established the boundaries. “And thank you for correcting my behaviour.”

  “I’m certain you learnt your lesson,” he said.

  It would stay with her for a long time, if the throbbing in her posterior was any indication. “Yes, Sir.” The title of respect was now seared into her. From her bottom to her brain.

  “Before we go to a playroom, we need to talk.”

  Talk? Was this to be a lecture? Her previous boyfriend would rant at her for hours if she committed something he considered a faux pas. In her opinion, a quick spanking was preferable to hours of verbal punishment, followed by the cold shoulder.

  Phillip certainly wasn’t apt to ignore her. In fact, she seemed to be the centre of his attention.

  Like a proper gentleman, he offered to help her stand. She wrapped her hand around his forearm. Earlier he’d seemed imposing, but now his strength reassured her.

  He held onto her for a moment while she found her footing. It took longer than it should have. Her muscles felt as if they’d been liquefied. And the heels were considerably taller than anything she’d worn before.

  “Fix your skirt.”

  She frowned, a bit puzzled by his behaviour.

  He pulled back her chair and held it while she sat. He signalled to Jilly and she came over with a bottle of water. Myka wondered whether the woman was a bartender or mind reader.

  After Myka had taken a few sips, he said, “Tell me why you were punished.”

  Was this the lecture part? She knew better than to ask if they had to have the conversation. “I didn’t kneel immediately, Sir.” She was tempted to look away, but her butt cheeks burned with the stinging reminder of his lessons. “And, Sir, I didn’t address you with the respect I should accord you.”

  He nodded. “Before we proceed, Myka, I need to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Thinking, Sir?” She shifted her weight, trying to find a comfortable position. “Honestly, I’m a bit confused. I thought we were going to the playroom. I don’t know why I’m sitting across from you instead of kneeling, and I’m not sure why you told me to fix my skirt, Sir.” She was aware of his collar and the solid weight of the attached leash.

  “I invited you to sit to restore some of the equality between us. Your punishment was mild
compared to most I administer.”

  Mild?

  “I want you to tell me what you’re feeling,” he continued.

  “A little humility,” she admitted. She toyed with the water bottle. “I recognise that I messed up. I wasn’t treating this evening with respect. I was playing stupid games like I always do with men. It was wrong. Until you held me accountable, I didn’t know I was doing it. I’m glad you didn’t let me off the hook.”

  “You’re new to this,” he said. “That may have been too much.”

  “Sir?” She gripped the bottle tighter.

  “In the elevator, on the phone, through email, I offered you a taste of BDSM, an opportunity to learn about surrender and have your pussy spanked.”

  “I still want that, Sir.”

  “Do you? Or do you just want a fantastic orgasm and to go back to your regular life?”

  “I like the honesty of this, Sir.”

  “Go on.”

  With his direct gaze, he unnerved her. “I’ve never had a man who is so in tune with me, who is so real about who he is and what he expects, and what he is offering in return. I can’t say I enjoyed the spanking, Sir, but I deserved it. I’m glad you did it.”

  “I am who I am, Myka. I can mitigate my temperament only so much.”

  “You gave me the opportunity several times to use my safe word.” She took a breath, blinked, then fearlessly met his gaze. “I don’t want you to send me away. Please. Give me another chance, Sir.”

  “If you have questions about the rules, ask them, but do so with respect.”

  She nodded. “I understand, Sir.”

  “I will assume so unless you say otherwise. You will be held accountable for every action. I expect my orders to be obeyed instantly. If you are having trouble with anything I say, speak up immediately.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I will permit no pretence. No artifice. No hiding, from me, or yourself. I will lay bare all your secrets, Myka.”

  She shivered. She’d never been this exposed before. And they were just getting started.

  Chapter Four

  He’d told her he’d permit no artifice, but the truth was, she was more open than any woman he’d played with recently. Daniella was a professional sub, paid to make sure he had the experience he craved. If she behaved like a brat, it was because he wanted her to so that he could administer a punishment flogging. Otherwise, she complied with his wishes, often anticipating his needs before he did. Some women went along with his kink because he was into it. But this woman—Myka—seemed genuinely interested in the experience and in him. To her it wasn’t about who he was or how much money he had. She was refreshing.