Working for Him

by Willa Edwards

  He smiled down at her, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip in a smooth motion that set her heart pounding. “Most of those were arranged by my public relations team. They were nice and all, but they didn’t interest me. They certainly couldn’t build me a transatlantic flier that uses eight per cent less fuel.”

  She glared up at him. “I thought you couldn’t have your wife working for you?”

  He shook his head. “That’s what I thought. But the more I considered it, the more I realised I want a wife who I can share everything with. A woman I can share my need for domination and control with, as well as someone who can understand the thrill of gliding above the clouds.”

  He slid his fingers down the sensitive skin of her throat, and she fought to focus on the conversation. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. I don’t quite know how we’ll work it out. But I know I want you. All of you. And the rest we’ll figure out as we go. As long as you promise to tell me what you want.”

  He stared into her eyes, his gaze so profound and focused that she actually believed him. She believed he cared for her. She believed he wanted more from her than to adorn his arm. He needed more than a gorgeous woman he could pull out for parties and show off to the reporters. He wanted someone who could submit to him, who could accept each one of his darker urges and enjoy them just as much as he did.

  But could that really be enough? Could that be enough to keep him? Enough to build a whole life around?

  “I got something for you.” He pulled a long red velvet box from behind his back, holding it out before her.

  She lifted her hand, about to reject the gift. She didn’t need treasures from him, she had her own money to buy jewellery. That had never been why she’d been with him. But before she could say a word, he popped open the case and she couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.

  “Do you know what this is, pet?” He reached out to stroke along the length of diamonds housed in the box.

  She shook her head. She had an idea. At least she hoped she did. But she wanted to hear him say it. She needed to know in his words what the contents meant to him.

  “This is a collar. It tells the rest of the world that you are mine.” He pointed to the ruby bird at one end and the small golden stick at the other. “When the two ends are connected, nothing can remove the necklace but a key.” He reached into his shirt collar and pulled a thin golden chain from around his neck, revealing a dangling key, as small and dainty as the bird and its golden perch. “This key.”

  “It’s beautiful.” She reached out to touch the necklace. Her fingers shook across the cold hard stones.

  “I wanted to give you something special, something no one else had. And I remembered you liked birds. You told me once you based every one of your designs on how nature has engineered them to be the perfect fliers.”

  She looked up at him, surprised. “I said that during my interview. That was over five years ago.”

  He nodded again. “It’s what made me want to hire you. Your passion.” He took a step closer, and her body sagged, desperate to be in his arms again. If only she could be sure her body was right, she’d jump in his embrace right now.

  “It’s also what made me take you to my bed that first night.”

  She sighed, remembering that night. The light drunken feeling created by a few too many glasses of champagne as she had talked up the boss about all the ambitions she had for her division, all the ways she wanted to improve their planes, make them faster, stronger, bigger. And then the sensation of floating when the man she’d lusted over for a year had not only taken her to his bed, but shown her a mastery of her body that had made her toes curl.

  Even from the first night, from their first kiss, they’d been perfectly matched in every need and desire.

  “Can I put it on you?” he asked with such hesitation and concern that it almost broke her heart. She wanted nothing more than to kneel at his feet, press her face to his chest and let him pin that gorgeous collar around her neck. She wanted the whole world to know she was his, to make his ownership of her as official to the world as it had been to her the first time he’d touched her.

  But she paused, unsure. This step was a large one, especially considering how limited their relationship had been before. Could they really go from only seeing each other once a year to every day? Was that even possible?

  Richard stepped towards her, wrapping his hand around her nape and tipping her gaze up to his. His eyes were fierce. His lips set in a determined line. “I know it won’t be easy. But I’m determined to make this work. I can’t live with only a little bit of you anymore. I want all of you, I need all of you. The rest we’ll work out as we go.”

  “Are you sure?” The quiver in her voice gave her away. There was no question in her mind that he was the Master for her. He had been since the first moment she’d met him. The safety and security she’d felt around him had freed her in a way she’d never been before, allowing her to push her boundaries further, knowing he’d always take care of her. But she’d never been as sure of his emotions. And if they tried this and failed—if she failed him, she wasn’t sure she’d survive.

  “I want to marry you, pet.” He leaned his forehead against hers. His warm breath on her face and his strong hands on her body filled her with deep calm and security. “Not for the merger, not for a business deal, but because you are the pet for me. Because no other woman can keep me on my toes and submit to me so beautifully at the same time like you do. Because these stolen conference nights are not enough.” Their eyes met, his dark gaze enveloping her from head to toe. All that she was, all she could be, was his. “I want more.”

  She nodded, her whole body shaking beneath the elation. “Yes, Master.”

  His lips descended on hers, depriving her of the remaining oxygen in her lungs and sending her into oblivion.

  He pulled back, his hand still holding the nape of her neck hard enough to keep her in place. He reached behind him, plucking the jewellery from its box. The radiant jewels in his hand filled her vision and her stomach flipped. Everything else vanished besides him and the promise held in his grip. He wouldn’t ask her again, and she didn’t care. She didn’t need him to ask. She wanted his collar. She wanted to be owned by him. Only him.

  He wrapped the necklace around her throat. The fit was tight, perfect. The golden perch slid through the robin’s feet and the mechanism clicked, locking shut. Her entire body sagged. Her knees weakened. She leaned into him, needing the support, his warm hard body the only steady space in the room.

  Nothing could make her feel more his than the row of diamonds around her neck. Not his ring on her finger, not his name on hers. Not his declaration to the press or the board. And not a wedding held in the white chapel down the street, with Elvis leading her down the aisle.

  He wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tight. “It’s all right, pet,” he whispered in her ear, “I’ve got you. You’re mine now.”

  Her heart settled into a slow, easy thump. She was his now. His completely and forever. The rest was just paperwork.

  Epilogue

  “I’m so sorry, pet.” Richard dropped his suit jacket onto the hotel chair as they settled back into his room. “I told them I didn’t want any cameras. That we wanted a private ceremony.”

  Serena shook her head, dropping the bouquet of roses onto the nightstand. Their wedding had been perfect, small and quiet, exactly what she had wanted, even with the paparazzi.

  “It’s fine.” She pulled the pins from her hair, releasing the length down her back. “They’d need a picture eventually. Might as well be now.”

  He came up behind her, his hot breath tickling along her nape, his musky scent weakening her knees. “Don’t lie to me, pet,” he whispered against her ear. Her entire body sagged beneath the power vibrating through his voice. She leaned into him, appreciating his strength against her. “You loved all those men calling your name, demanding your attention.” He fumbled along her back, finding the
tab to her zipper and sliding it down with a quick aggressive pull.

  She had, but not because she wanted the attention, or cared about having her picture in the tabloids. “I only love that you’d claimed me as yours, for everyone to see.”

  “And don’t you dare forget it.” He shoved the layers of lily and snow down her legs, dropping the bulky wedding dress to the ground and setting every inch of her skin tingling.

  “Never, Master.” She leant back against his shoulder. He placed his lips on her neck, just above the diamond collar he’d gifted her with.

  “Good.” He unhooked her bra and pulled the thin lace from her body before grabbing her breasts in his hot hands. The not-so-gentle massage he gave them left her wet and needy, desperate for him. She moaned, deep from inside her throat. Using one hand, he pinched and rolled her right nipple between his fingers, until she shook against him. His other hand travelled down her stomach to dip between her thighs.

  “You remembered,” he released with a husky rumble that curled her toes. Pulling back, he stared down at her ass, naked beneath the garter belt encircling her waist. She wrapped her arms around her chest, cold without his support behind her. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”

  “Yes, Master.” She smiled, proud of how she’d pleased him. “I could afford to sacrifice a few pairs a year, but not one every day.”

  He chuckled. “Very smart, my pet.” He slid his hand up between her thighs, thrust two fingers deep into her cunt and she gasped. “Maybe, if you’re really good, I’ll rip something else off you instead.”

  She shivered beneath his words. Dear God, please.

  “But first, on the bed, pet. Lie down on your back, your legs spread wide.”

  Her stomach fluttered at the steel tone. The one that said he wouldn’t ask twice. She pulled back from him, stepping to the king-sized bed on wobbly legs. She threw herself down on the mattress, spreading her legs wide, too turned on to give a damn about modesty. She’d let go of such emotions long ago, much preferring to pleasure her Master.

  Turning her head, she stared up at him, waiting for him to remove the slip of silk from his pocket, or wherever else he might hide it, and cover her eyes.

  As if reading her mind, he smiled down at her. “No blindfold this time, pet. Now that you’re mine, I want to see those gorgeous eyes looking up at me while I’m inside you.” He curled his hand around her nape, his hold commanding. “No more hiding.”

  She nodded, wanting the same more than her own breath. She didn’t want to hide anymore, not from who they were, what they wanted. After today, the whole world would know she was his, and she’d never been happier.

  He quickly shed his shirt, followed by his pants and underwear in one quick move. Her eyes drank in each defined line, each hard muscle of his gorgeous naked body. She licked her lips, staring at his erect cock. Her mouth watered to taste him, to lick every delicious inch of him. But in his current mood, she doubted she’d be allowed that treat tonight.

  For the first time, they had no reason to rush. No longer did they have to worry about how much they could cram in before the sun came up and they had to go their separate ways. There were no more timers, no more limited hours. They had a lifetime to enjoy each other, a lifetime to explore and discover.

  He joined her on the bed, covering her body with his, imprisoning her beneath his bulk. She moaned at the heat and strength of his body overwhelming hers. He stared down at her, his eyes dark and aroused, multiplying the heat inside her.

  He grabbed her hands in one large fist, pulling them above her head and holding them immovable. His grip was hard enough to give her bruises the next day, yet another set of marks she’d cherish. His other hand wrapped around her neck, holding her firmly where the collar slid across her throat. Yet no panic played across her mind, no worry that he might hurt her. Just blissful bone-deep possession and total trust.

  He leant down, taking her mouth with his own, as he slid into her with one quick push. Pounding deep, he forged their bodies together. And the dam inside her broke, the pleasure spilling out in a tidal wave. She held onto him tight, his body convulsing against hers as he followed her over. Coming together, as they always should.

  Also available from Total-E-Bound Publishing:

  Bound by Fairytales: Wandering Off the Path

  Willa Edwards

  Excerpt

  Chapter One

  “You’ll be fine, as long as you stay on the path,” Abigail coached herself, clutching the basket handle tight. The icy sweat on her palms made the wicker slick. Her hold bore the imprint of the woven pattern into her soft skin.

  The full moon hung high in the October sky. Its silvery-white light descended upon the forest, casting the entire glade in harsh shadows. Stars flecked the otherwise black sea of the sky. The barren branches of the surrounding trees extended across the round illumination, reaching out to claw the orb from the sky. Their abandoned leaves crunched beneath her soft leather boots and her steps echoed through the still night.

  An owl hooted to her left, raising the hairs along the back of her neck. She’d delayed her trip in town too long, again. She’d only needed a few items for her grandmother, a bottle of wine and a small apple cake, but the activity in the market square had intrigued her into staying longer. Her stomach still twisted from the bawdy story the market bard had sung, directing his words to one of the local town beauties. The lady’s moans still echoed in her ears as the bard had reaped the rewards of his attention, hidden within the cobblestone alley.

  It was sinful to watch the couple together, to covet what the other woman possessed. But her dream to be the object of the same devotion she saw shining in the bard’s eyes overpowered her sense of right and wrong. The chance to watch this beauty receive the complete abandon and bliss she craved was impossible to resist.

  Her nipples tingled as she imagined a man caressing her the same way. His mouth sucking at her breasts, his hand pushing up her skirts to stroke the skin no one else had ever touched. Her legs quivered. Wetness dampened her thighs.

  In all her twenty years, she’d never experienced anything as thrilling as the lady had received in the arms of the songster. No one had ever made her feel even a fraction of the passion the lady had screamed out. Certainly not Hunter, her childhood friend and the man her grandmother wished her to marry, regardless of her lack of interest in him. He was too predictable, too easy, too boring. She wanted heat, passion, explosion. She wanted more.

  An animal skittered across the scattered leaves of the forest floor, and Abigail whirled towards the noise. The crackle of dried foliage and branches breaking beneath the creature’s small feet sent her heart pounding. Fear spiked her blood. She pulled her scarlet cloak tight around her, gripping her precious cargo harder with her other hand.

  “It’s merely a mouse. No need to worry, dear lady,” a thick voice growled from the shadows.

  Among the barren autumn trees, a man stood swathed in shadows. His silhouette displayed an extended height and powerful body. Moonlight illuminated his face in shapes, displaying fragments of his features. She glimpsed full sensuous lips, bearded cheeks and dark heavy eyebrows.

  “I wasn’t worried.” Why was she speaking to this man instead of running from him, as she should? Her grandmother had always taught her the woods were a dangerous and mysterious place. People who went in often never came out. What type of man would be hiding among those trees? Certainly a man who thrived in such a perilous environment could not be trusted.

  Found alone on the road by a strange man, no one about to help her if she needed, Abigail should have been frightened. And she was. But her skin prickled with awareness. She shifted her feet restlessly on the ground beneath her, but the urge to run never reached her.

  The stranger’s throaty laughter filled the still air. The intensity and tone reminded her of the bard playing in the market square, and the deep moans he’d made thrusting against the dairy maid.

  “What causes you to be out
at night, my sweet?” The voice floated to her from the forest’s edge, sending delightful chills across her chest.

  She fought the yearning to stray from the path, desperate to search out the secrets hidden in the shadows, and the commander of the alluring voice within. She might be interested in this stranger, but she wasn’t foolish. It was dangerous enough to be alone on the road at night, but to abandon the safety of the path to explore the mysterious forest and the even more mysterious man among the trees would be reckless.

  “I’m bringing these to my grandmother’s house.” She waved the basket in her white-knuckled grip. The wine bottle clinked against the wicker sides as she held it aloft.

  “It’s late. Didn’t your grandmother warn you against walking in the woods at night?”

  “Yes.” Abigail summoned all her courage to remain strong, as her grandmother always was, and had taught her to be. But the pull of the man was magnetic. “And that I shouldn’t speak to strangers on my way home.”

  As if sensing the lack of bite behind her words, he let out a deep chuckle. “’Tis true, pet, but there’s far more adventure to be found beyond the path with a stranger than quietly wandering home to your grandmother.”

  She examined his silhouette, assessing the intent behind his words. Could he sense her longing to wander? The gnawing need to experience more than her quiet life offered that beat within her breast.

  “Have you never wished to explore beyond what’s safe?” The sound shivered over her skin like a rough caress. He smiled, as if he’d read her mind and sensed exactly how much she fought his offer.

  Abigail took a deep breath, remembering the screams of climax rolling from the local beauty while the bard had pumped into her. The pounding of Abigail’s pulse in her ears rushed through her system. The fresh, hot desire to be screaming, the same as the maid, raced through her veins.