Take Me, Boss: A Billionaire Boss Obsession

by Sylvia Fox

  She smooths her dress over her hips and retrieves her panties from the floor. “Don’t get your hopes set on that.” She steps into the white lace and slides it in place before running her hands along her hips.

  I lower myself in my chair and cross my ankle over my knee. “You and I both love power, but I promise you, there’s beauty in letting go.”

  “I could say the same thing to you.” Dom leans against the window. “I’m sure you think my need for control comes from terrible scars I’m hiding on my heart. Some wounded place in my soul. It’s just strength, Nate. Does your confidence hide broken bits? Or is that just how you are?” She shakes her head. “Why should it be any different just because I’m a woman?”

  “It shouldn’t.” I lean my elbows onto my desk. “But strength doesn’t require manipulation. And control doesn’t come with games.”

  Domino frowns. “Manipulation?” She arches an eyebrow and pushes off the window.

  “Everything you say or do around me is calculated. From the distance between us to the way you look at me. From the way you pulled me into your apartment only to walk away without so much as saying goodbye. Are you saying none of that was calculated?”

  Dom drops her eyes.

  “I like you, Domino Thorne. And I want to get to know you. I want to test your limits and push your boundaries.”

  “And what about you? Do I get to test your limits and push your boundaries, too?”

  “It wouldn’t be very fair of me to give without giving in return, now would it?”

  Domino grips the back of a chair and studies me. “What do you want from me, Mr. Wellington?”

  “One night. My rules. No games. No manipulation. Just you and me on my terms. Open and honest. No holds barred.”

  “And what do I get in return?” Dom abandons the chair and leans on my desk, her face just inches from mine. “If I play by your rules and step outside my comfort zone?”

  “At the worst, you get one hell of a night to remember. At best?” I shrug. “A whole new world could open up to you.”

  Dom stares into my eyes, not blinking, never once looking unsure. After a few quiet seconds, she nods once. “I like you, too, Nathaniel Wellington. I’ll give you one night on your terms.” She smiles “Boundaries are made to be broken.”

  “That’s right. They are.” She says her strength isn’t hiding any scars. We’ll see what happens when I strip away her armor and find the woman buried underneath. “I’ll send a car for you at seven tonight,” I say.

  Dom straightens and smiles. “See you tonight.” She pivots and strides across the office before pausing with her hand on the door. “Is that all, Mr. Wellington or did you need me for anything else?”

  “That’ll be all, Ms. Thorne.” I uncross my legs and sit forward. “Oh, and Dom?”

  She turns back to me.

  “You aren’t going to be able to keep up with me.”

  She grins, recognizing her own words, and then pulls open the door, her hips swaying as she saunters out of my office.

  Chapter Ten

  Dom

  Charlie calls up promptly at seven to tell me a car is here. I gather my clutch and head downstairs, my phone in one hand as I lean against the elevator wall and shoot a few texts to Jacki, filling her in on what I’m doing. She’s spending the weekend with Eric at his cabin in the mountains and couldn’t care less about my evening with Nate. She calls me the asshole, but she’s self-absorbed and we’re perfect together because of it.

  7:03 pm Me: Have fun, sweets. You’ve earned it.

  7:04 pm Jacki-O: You too. We’ll swap battle stories later. ❤

  The elevator doors slide open and I stride out into the foyer, my heels clicking on the gleaming tile like war drums. Nerves started fluttering in my stomach after I got home from work which only made me mad. I don’t get nervous on dates. In fact, I rarely let myself get nervous about anything, but that’s because I trust myself to steer a situation the way I want it to go. If Nate wants me to hand control over to him, it could go so many different ways and not having a say in the matter makes me feel untethered. What happens when I let someone else take the wheel? Where will we end up?

  I hold my head high as I step out into the cold night, nodding to Charlie as I pass. A sleek, black car waits for me at the curb, shining in the streetlights. The driver stands at its side, his uniform as sharp as any general in the Marines. The laugh lines etched into his skin deepen when he sees me, his smile lifting his thick jowls and caterpillar-like eyebrows.

  “Ms. Thorne?” His voice is low-pitched and comforting, like hot chocolate and brandy.

  “That’s me.”

  He pulls open the back door of the limousine and gestures for me to enter, bowing his head graciously. I lower my hips to the seat and then swivel my feet into the car, my pencil skirt demanding perfect posture and rigidity. The driver closes the door behind me before he climbs into the driver’s seat and then turns to face me.

  “There’s a folder on the seat beside you. Mr. Wellington requests that you sign a non-disclosure agreement prior to your arrival at his home.” The man smiles that grandfatherly smile again, his dark eyes so warm. It’s out of place in a dark car, talking about NDA’s in the glow of the streetlights.

  I pick up the folder, flip it open, and find a single sheet of paper and a pen tucked inside. The paper rustles in the quiet car as I pull it from the sleeve and read through it. The words are standard fare and Nate’s signature is already scrawled across the bottom. I pause momentarily, analyzing all the possible reasons he would want an NDA, and then decide curiosity will haunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t find out what Nate Wellington wants to hide from the world. I build my life around saying yes, so I take a breath, put pen to paper, and scrawl my name across the page.

  The driver smiles. “Very good, Ms. Thorne.” He extends a gloved hand. “My name is Jeremiah and I am in your service for the duration of your stay with Mr. Wellington.”

  I shake Jeremiah’s hand. “The duration?”

  “Yes, Ms. Thorne. The duration. However long you decide that will be.” He smiles as he pulls his hand from mine and then turns in his seat and starts the car, maneuvering us into traffic.

  I don’t know if I’m more intrigued or anxious. A healthy dose of curiosity and nerves zoom through my bloodstream. I settle into the plush leather seats and watch the storefronts and pedestrians slide by. It’s not long before we stop in front of an impressive high rise. Jeremiah opens my door for me and gives me directions to the private elevator that leads to Nate’s condo on the ninety-six floor.

  “Mr. Wellington is waiting for you and the doorman has been alerted of your presence. Please, don’t hesitate to ask for assistance if you need it.”

  “Thank you, Jeremiah.”

  The old man bows his head and I walk into the building, nodding at the doorman on the way in. I knew Nathaniel Wellington was a wealthy man, but I did not expect this kind of opulence. What other tricks is he hiding up his sleeve? What else don’t I know about him? I clutch the rails in the private elevator and when the doors slide open, they reveal Nate leaning on a wall, wearing jeans, and a loose t-shirt. His feet are bare and his smile is wide.

  “Looks like I’m overdressed again.” I step off the elevator into a grand foyer, all marble, and wood, and glass.

  Nate’s eyes travel across my body. “You look stunning as always, but the mere fact that you’re wearing clothes at all is an indicator that you’re overdressed.” He takes my hand and leads me through his home, offering glib remarks to downplay the luxury. We end up in his study with him sitting behind a mahogany desk and me perched on a leather chair opposite him.

  “I’m sure you’re wondering about the non-disclosure agreement.” Nate leans back and puts his hands behind his head.

  “I’ll admit my curiosity is piqued.”

  “Before we go any further, I want you to be certain that you’re up for this evening with me.” Nate smiles. “I won’t h
urt you, at least no more than you want me to…” He tilts his head and lifts an eyebrow. “But I will push your boundaries. Are you prepared for that?”

  I nod once. “Yes.”

  He sits back. “You didn’t take much time to think that through.”

  “But I have. The thought hasn’t left my mind since you fucked me against the window this morning.” I cross my legs. “And if that wasn’t enough to fuel my curiosity, the NDA, this condo, and your previous statement finished the job. I like you, Nate. And I trust you, which is saying a lot. And I want to know what kind of secret a man like you is hiding from the world.”

  “I’m glad you trust me. That’s important.” Nate sits back in his chair. “You’re a smart girl, Dom. I’m sure you’ve already put a few things together regarding what this evening is about.”

  “I have a few ideas.”

  “I’m Dominant.” He grins. “As I’m sure is obvious in the way I run my life. However, when it comes to sex, my dominant nature and my need for adventure combine in the most spectacular of ways.”

  “BDSM?” I’m not surprised by the admission, but I am surprised by the thrill of excitement in my belly and the warmth pooling between my crossed thighs.

  “I prefer the B and the D to the S and the M. I don’t need to hurt someone to feel like a man, but if you like pain, I will most gladly dole it out.” He leans forward. “And I’m not above using pain as a behavior modifier if you choose to be a bad girl.”

  I uncross my legs and squeeze my thighs together. “And what would I do to make me a bad girl?”

  “Disobeying an order. Talking back. Maintaining direct eye contact.”

  “Eye contact?” I pride myself on my ability to look someone in the eye. “So I’m being a bad girl?” I grin. “Are you going to punish me, Mr. Wellington?” I bite my lip. I’m starting to think tonight is going to be a lot of fun.

  Nate nods. “Right now, yes. You are being a very bad girl and I would love to punish you for it.”

  Adrenaline zings through my body. “I have never given a man my submission.” I lick my lips. “It doesn’t come naturally to me.”

  “I promise you, not only will you submit, but you’ll come to love it.” His eyes meet mine and they light a fire in my belly.

  “How long? Does my submission to you carry over to work? Does it end in the morning? How long am I giving you control over me?”

  “I’m your boss, Dom. You already owe me your submission at work. That won’t change. As far as your sexual submission? Let’s consider tonight a trial run. We can discuss more after that, if you discover you enjoy it and that we’re a good fit for each other.”

  “I assume there’s a contract? Some negotiations?” I shrug, my confidence wavering for the first time I can remember.

  Nate nods. “We need to discuss how far you’re comfortable going.”

  “All of it. I’ll try anything once.”

  Nate tsks. “It’s a dangerous game to agree to something without seeing the terms.”

  “You promised me you would push my boundaries. What’s the point in setting limits if the goal is to remove them?”

  Nate sits forward. “Dom. Pushing boundaries is one thing, breaking a person is another thing altogether. I don’t want to break you.”

  “Then what, exactly, do you want?”

  “To own you.” Nate pulls a stack of papers out of the drawer. “Look through this list. Ask questions. It’s important that I know your hard limits. I can’t own you if you don’t trust me and you won’t trust me if I push you too hard, too fast.”

  And so, I spend the next half hour discussing my hard and soft limits with Nate. Me, Domino Thorne, the woman who enjoys her strength and confidence, who measures her self-worth by her ability to dominate whatever group I’m in, is now discussing whether or not she will wear a collar, sit in a cage, be bound, and a list of ever more shocking things. I feel ambiguous about almost everything. How can I know if I like something without trying it? In the end, I refuse a handful of highly degrading items and then I sign on the bottom line. I watch, fascinated, as Nate does as well.

  He nods once, gathers the paper and taps them against the desk, straightening the stack before sliding them back in his drawer. He stands, his eyes on mine. I hold his gaze, nerves tightening my stomach.

  “Drop your gaze to your lap.” His voice is firm and cold, but his eyes are warm. “I’d hate to have to start the night with a punishment.”

  I smile despite myself and dutifully lower my eyes.

  “Is something funny, Ms. Thorne?”

  “A little.” I fight the urge to laugh. None of this feels comfortable.

  Nate drops to a crouch in front of me, captures my chin between his thumb and forefinger, and lifts my face to his. “I promise you, nothing about this is funny.” All the warmth drains from his eyes.

  A whisper of fear snakes into my belly as I lower my gaze. What have I agreed to?

  “Your word is protection.” Nate strokes my hair. “If you want me to stop, use that word and I will, but do not use that word lightly. Understand?”

  I nod.

  “Use your words, Domino.”

  “I understand.”

  “You understand what?”

  I meet his gaze, defiance in my eyes. “My word is protection.”

  Nate grabs a fistful of my hair and yanks my gaze back to my lap. “I didn’t give you permission to look at me. Looks like we’ll be starting with a punishment after all.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dom

  Defiance rears its rebellious head and I lift my eyes to his. “I told you I was going to be a bad girl.”

  “Go right ahead and test my boundaries. I promise you will find them immovable.” Nate releases his grip on my hair. “Stand.”

  I do and manage to keep my gaze lowered.

  “Strip.”

  I do that, too, stepping out of my shoes and then lowering the zipper on my dress. It falls to the floor and I remove my bra and then slide my panties down before I step out of the heap of discarded clothing. Nate pulls a zip tie out of his back pocket and restrains my wrists in front of me before sliding his belt out of his jeans and wrapping it around my neck. He leads me from the office with the makeshift leash and collar. We pass through the living room and end up in his bedroom.

  “On the bed. On your knees. Face on the pillow, but turn your head so you can breathe. Arms here.” Nate indicates a hook on the headboard and then attaches it to the zip tie around my wrists. My ass is in the air, my arms are stretched over my head, there’s a belt around my neck, and I’ve never felt more vulnerable in my life.

  “We’ll start simply, Dom, so you understand what you’re messing with.” Nate climbs up behind me and runs a hand down my ass cheek and over my pussy. “You’re so wet, you bad girl. I think you’re enjoying this more than you want to admit.”

  I squirm against his touch, desperate for him to bury his fingers or his cock inside me. He runs his hand over my skin and then slaps my ass.

  “Thank me.”

  He wants me to thank him? I pull against the restraints, trying to look him in the eye and earn myself another firm slap.

  “Thank me.” His voice is hard now.

  “Thank you.” My tone of voice is scathing.

  He slaps me again, harder. “Thank you, what?”

  I pause, the skin on my ass singing while moisture drips down my thighs. I don’t know what he wants me to say. “What do you mean?”

  Nate runs a hand over the heat on my skin, soothing the pain. “Did you forget already?” He slaps me again and again. First one cheek and then the other, harder and harder until I cry out. When he stops, I immediately miss the sensation and arch my back.

  “From this point forward you will call me Sir.”

  “Sir.” I wonder what he’ll do if I called him that in the boardroom? “Thank you, Sir,” I say out loud, already thinking up ways to tease him with that word at work.

  Nate�
�s hand is back, but this time he runs a finger down my slit and then slides it past my opening. I moan as he fills me, and then melt as he adds a second, and then third finger. He slides them against my inner walls, hooking them to find my G-spot. I cry out and convulse, the pain in my ass melting first into pleasure and then into desire.

  “See what happens when you’re a good girl?” he asks. “A good girl gets to feel good.” Nate pulls his hand out of my pussy and spanks me again.

  “Thank you, Sir,” I mumble and he spreads my legs and fingers my clit. My orgasm is close. Holy shit. How can I be this close to coming?

  “You are a naughty girl, aren’t you?” Nate pulls his hand away. “Did you know you liked to be spanked?”

  “No.” I turn my head so I can see him. I would have laughed at any man who even suggested he wanted to spank me.

  Nate slaps my ass, alternating from one cheek to the next, leaving wet marks from his fingers to dry on my skin.

  “No, Sir,” I manage between gasps. “Thank you, Sir.”

  “There’s my good girl. You are a fast learner, aren’t you?”

  I expect to bristle at the comment, but I don’t.

  “I suppose I should reward you for your good behavior.” He slides his fingers back into me, moves them in and out once or twice and then slows. There’s pressure in a place I’ve never been touched and I tense. “Relax for me, Dom.” Nate spits on my ass. “It’s so much easier if you relax.” He pushes again, his fingers in my cunt and his thumb slides into my asshole. I bite the pillow and make a sound I didn’t know I could make. My muscle begin clenching the moment he starts to move. I bite the pillow and stars dance in front of my eyes as I succumb to sensation.

  “Do not come before I give you permission.” Nate picks up speed, ramming his hand into me, and my breath hitches and catches as I struggle to hold back an impending orgasm. How do I keep it from happening when he’s doing that to me? How do I hold it back when it’s just something that happens?