The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage)

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  He nodded, still watching her so carefully it took all her concentration not to jerk her hand away from those sensitive stroking fingers. “My point exactly.”

  “What?”

  Smiling, he let go of her hand and picked up his spoon again. “Deal?”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Morgan.”

  Oh, Miss Harrison, you have no idea.

  He couldn’t have asked for a better turn of events himself. She thought she needed to protect him, to slow things down. That was fine by him.

  She thought he didn’t know anything about her, the real woman behind the luscious body and passionate soul. In that, she couldn’t be more mistaken. But she needed time to let it all soak in. If Donovan Morgan had learned anything in all his years of business takeovers, it was patience and cunning.

  She laid the trap all by herself. All I have to do is sit back and watch.

  “How are your parents?”

  Her hand paused the spoon headed to her mouth. “Why?”

  “You said I don’t know anything about the real you. I’m just letting you know I did my homework.”

  Shaking her head, she took the bite, closed her eyes and groaned. Ricardo had definitely outdone himself yet again.

  Donovan had to discretely reach down and adjust himself. Watching her foodgasms was almost as good as the real thing.

  She finally managed to speak again. “Homework? What a joke. All you did was hire a PI. I’ve never told you anything about my parents so it doesn’t count.”

  “So tell me.”

  “Dad’s retired but he drives a school bus now. Mom teaches fifth grade.”

  “And your brother?”

  She dabbed the spoon into her soup but didn’t immediately lift another bite to her mouth. “If your PI’s any good, then he found out my brother had leukemia.”

  “Had?”

  She nodded and finally managed another bite. “He’s in remission now and things are looking good. But six years ago, it was pretty grim. They didn’t think he was going to make it.”

  “That’s about when you left your job as a corporate accountant.”

  “You don’t miss much do you?” She gave him a wry smile and paused long enough to take a sip of wine.

  Sweetheart, I miss nothing. Nothing at all.

  “Before the diagnosis, we were already worried we were going to lose him. He was into the wrong crowd at school, getting into trouble. Petty theft, vandalism, teenage rebel stuff, but definitely the wrong road. Then he got so sick and after months of chemo and hospitals and more chemo… It was like he woke up and had another chance at life. Even if he didn’t make it, he decided he was going to live what he had left with no holds barred. He managed to graduate from high school before he got too sick. At the worst, he married his high school sweetheart. Even if he died in a week, a month, they were determined to share what time he had left. I really think Sherri helped save him. She was right there with him, pulling him along, strengthening him, encouraging him. It was beautiful.”

  It took all his willpower not to reach over and take her hand again. But the slightly breathy quality to her voice—and the fact she hadn’t dared another bite of the soup—told him she was too emotional. Too close to breaking control. And he didn’t want to do that to his Lilly.

  “I had to stop and look at my life. I was in a job I hated. I was engaged to a guy I didn’t love. Not the way Sherri and Benjamin loved each other. The kind of love that said I’m going to love you even if this is horrible. Even if it kills me when you die. I don’t know if I can live without you and I don’t care. I can’t waste a single moment now.”

  He hadn’t known she was engaged. Somehow, he couldn’t picture this shadow man. Had he been a submissive? Vanilla? A macho man or someone quiet and intelligent? Did it even matter?

  “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I walked away from everything. I quit my job. Dumped the fiancé. And started over. I took control of my life and cut out everything that didn’t complete me or support me or make me happy. Along the way, I found Mistress L and I never looked back.”

  “So your fiancé didn’t know about the Mistress,” he finally said. He didn’t want her to think he was jealous. Not like that. I just need to know what he failed to do so I don’t make the same mistakes.

  “I didn’t know about the Mistress, so he sure didn’t. It just…” She sighed heavily and gave him a smile that fought not to be tired and weary and cynical. “On paper, we were a perfect fit. I probably could have married him and been okay. Two kids, our white collar jobs, a Suburban for hockey trips. My family liked him and my brother never completely forgave me for dumping someone he’d already adopted as an older brother. I hurt them both and disappointed my parents, even though they did support my decision. No one understood. Honestly, I don’t completely understand to this day. It just wasn’t right. I didn’t feel…”

  “Whole.”

  She nodded, her eyes going soft and distant as she looked back into her past. “Yeah. Something was missing. It was slowly killing me and I didn’t even know what it was. If I’d been older, I would have said it was a mid-life crisis.”

  Like I felt until you, Lilly. But he didn’t say it. Not yet. She still needed time to process everything, but once he’d hit his knees today, he’d known.

  Actually, he’d known when he looked at her picture and seen the incredible light in her eyes.

  It’s time to put the sparkle back in those beautiful starry eyes. And keep it there. Whatever it takes.

  She changed the subject. “Were you ever engaged?”

  “I was actually married many years ago.”

  Finally her spoon started moving again. “What was she like?”

  Donovan shrugged. “Society princess. Beautiful, wealthy, cultured. On paper we were the perfect merger and between us we killed more trees for the pre-nup than it takes to launch an international company from scratch.”

  She smiled and took another bite.

  “Be glad you didn’t make the same mistake, Lilly. It’s horrible to be married to someone who only sees half of you. Who never touches that private, intimate heart aching for comfort and love. She didn’t even know it was there. Didn’t care. If she could see me now…”

  It was her turn to reach over and squeeze his hand. “Would she be shocked at your wicked secret desires?”

  “Horrified. Appalled. She’d probably faint dead away.”

  “Good riddance. Did you ever tell Mrs. Morgan you loved her?”

  He almost choked on his soup. Wiping his mouth on his napkin gave him a second to gather his thoughts. “I honestly don’t remember. I asked her to marry me and she agreed. We never professed undying love for each other. That kind of star-struck passion wasn’t part of our relationship.”

  Nodding, Lilly settled back in her chair to wait on the next course. “It’s expected, right? You kiss the little wife on the way to work and say in passing, ‘Love you, dear.’ I was the same way with Michael. I cared about him. I was willing to sleep with him. So of course I loved him, right? But in the end, I didn’t. Not the kind of love I decided I wanted.”

  “The kind your brother has.”

  “Yeah.” Eyes solemn and heavy, she looked at him and smiled, but it was tinged with sadness, like a dream she’d once had that could never ever be. “So I decided I wouldn’t ever tell another person I loved them unless I really meant it. Like I felt when I found out my brother was dying. When I pictured what our family would be like without him. When I saw the way he smiled at his sweetheart in front of the altar even though he didn’t have any hair from the chemo treatments and he was so weak he had to sit for part of the ceremony. I’ll have that love and nothing else.”

  She meant to warn him off, but she might as well have waved a red flag in front of his nose. Then that’s exactly what I’m going to give you, sweetheart.

  Her head tipped to the side, her eyes pleading with him to understand. Her smile wobbled just a little, as if
she’d be sad to see him headed in the opposite direction. Actually, that’s exactly what she expects. She thinks I’ll have a few good nights with Mistress L and then go on my merry way. In her mind, she’s already preparing to say goodbye.

  Like hell.

  You’ve underestimated the wrong man, Lilly.

  He sat back in his chair and sipped his wine, fighting not to let his lips twitch into a smug smile. “That’s a very good rule to have. I think I’ll adopt it myself.”

  Surprised, she sat up a little straighter, her eyes losing some of the sadness. “You will?”

  “Yes. No reckless declarations of love until they’re undying. In fact, I’ll even swear not to make any such professions until and unless you’ve said the same to me.”

  She frowned a little, as if unsure her message had been received or not. Ricardo returned to clear their bowls and lay down the next course. “Beef Wellington with pureed sweet potatoes and sautéed spinach. I hope you like your meat medium, Miss Harrison?”

  “For beef, yes. Medium is fine.” Though her smile of appreciation in Donovan’s direction spoke volumes about what she thought about his size.

  Roaring with laugher, Ricardo headed for the kitchen. “You’ve got a keeper, Donnie.”

  “Don’t I know it, Ricky.”

  Her eyes narrowed, her fingers drummed on the table and when she spoke, her voice edged down into Mistress L command territory. “Didn’t you hear a word I said?”

  Ignoring her irritation, he sliced into the perfectly cooked filet. “I heard every single word.”

  She gave up trying to intimidate him with such scents wafting up from her plate. She slipped a bite of tender steak and flaky crust into her mouth and melted. He wouldn’t have batted an eye if she slipped right out of her chair to puddle on the floor.

  Just you wait until I get you in my bed tonight, Lilly without the Mistress L. Just you wait.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Standing at the bathroom door in a sexy little negligee, Lilly couldn’t quite find the courage to turn the door handle.

  This is stupid. I’ve spanked his ass and destroyed his condo already. So why am I nervous now?

  Because Lilly stood here, not the Mistress.

  Me.

  All the playing and tormenting was natural for her. Teasing him by going commando or playing dress up with some designer labels was fun. But this…

  This felt too much like a honeymoon. It had that kind of significance and weight to it.

  Donovan wants to make love to me tonight.

  When things got too heavy and emotional, she wouldn’t have the Mistress to retreat to. For fuck’s sake, it’d been her suggestion. No scene. No dominance and submission. No crop, no toys, no bondage.

  Just sex.

  They’d had just sex before already today, but this still felt different. He hadn’t even touched her yet and her skin felt raw and overly sensitive. She’d tried to explain her stance about love and commitment, but she had a feeling she could club him over the head with a 2x4 and he still wouldn’t get what she was trying to say. Don’t count on me falling in love. Protect your heart, Donovan. The Mistress can be a cold, unfeeling bitch who’s not going to settle for polite affection or even friendship.

  She wants the whole thing. She wants you body and heart and soul for all time. Your pride can’t stand up to that for long.

  Staring at herself in the mirror, she made herself really look. The nipples hard and erect. The light sheen of sweat on her skin. The fire in her eyes. Thin and sheer, the tiny skirt clung to her curves. A tiny satin thong covered her cleft, drawn tight by the moisture betraying her desire.

  I want him, yes. But I don’t love him.

  She wanted to love him. She’d dreamed about having a submissive like him, so bossy and arrogant and proud, determined to defy her wishes. Because when it came to submission, those kind of men fell the hardest. When he’d gone to his knees for her, whoa. She’d never felt more of a rush. It’d been exhilarating and moving and soul-searingly deep.

  But it wasn’t love.

  And someday, proud Mr. Morgan would decide that lover boy and sexy beast weren’t as important as keeping his ego intact and he’d move on.

  Enjoy him while it lasts, she told herself in the mirror. Eat pie off his sinful body. Whip his glorious ass as often as he lets you. Relish his sexy growls and his shaking vulnerability and save those moments up to feed your fantasies later.

  Once he’s moved on.

  Determined to face whatever sensual torment he’d been devising for her, she threw open the door and sailed into the bedroom head held high. Only he wasn’t in the bed, which Annette had made while they were eating dinner. She’d even thoughtfully turned down the covers and left a chocolate on each pillow. Oh, honey, not even enough for an appetizer.

  “Lilly.” His low voice strummed her spine, making her jumpy and fidgety, totally unlike the Mistress’s cool control. She fought to keep her face smooth and her nerves buried as she turned to face him.

  Lounging on pillows he’d scattered on the floor in front of a large gas fireplace, he watched her with dark, steady eyes. He wore a pair of cotton pajama pants but nothing else, the white startling against his tanned skin. He’d spread a fluffy comforter out on the floor. Dark chocolate. The same color as the pie sitting beside him.

  “Dessert is served.” He lifted his hand, holding out his fingers to her until she came and slipped her hand into his. He pulled her down beside him, uncomplaining when she sat instead of lying back on the pillows. “Unlike you, I’m going to serve our pie now before we get carried away and waste it.”

  “What does Big Apple Chocolate Silk Pie mean?” She hated the quaver in her voice. The uncertainty. She wasn’t completely sure how to be with a man if she wasn’t the Mistress any longer. Even the lusty wench channeled the Mistress’s power and confidence. She’d taken what she wanted without hesitation.

  But his desire to make love to her had somehow disabled her confidence.

  “New York Style cheesecake topped with French silk pie. Sometimes he does chocolate cheesecake on the bottom, but…” He lifted out a piece of pie with the server and laid it on the waiting saucer. “This one’s plain.”

  Now she could see the white and dark layers and her mouth watered. Graham cracker crust and traditional New York cheesecake, with another inch of thick chocolate custard, topped with yet another layer of whipped cream and curls of chocolate shavings. “There’s far from anything plain about such a decadent dessert.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  She searched his gaze, trying to pinpoint the deeper tone to his voice, but he merely smiled. “We even have forks. So you don’t have to eat with your fingers. Unless you want to, of course.”

  She accepted the plate and waited while he served his. It was strangely proper, despite the fact that they were reclining on the floor barely dressed. Her mouth quirked.

  “There she is.” She risked a glance back to his face and he smiled, scooting closer and then reclining on his elbow beside her. “It’d be a crime for you to be so nervous you can’t eat this incredible pie.”

  “I’m not nervous.” To prove her point, she took the first bite of pie. Cheesecake, thick and creamy. Chocolate silk on top. Oh oh oh. So good, it took her a minute to realize he stroked her thigh, fingertips feather soft and gentle. She also noted his untouched pie waiting on the saucer. “Aren’t you going to eat any?”

  “I will. I’m having too good of a time watching you enjoy it. Why don’t you try a bite of only chocolate silk?”

  Not a bad idea. Carefully, she separated the top layer so fluffy chocolate cream slid down her throat as easily as silk. “Fuck. No wonder it’s called chocolate silk.”

  “Mmmm.” He nuzzled the outside of her knee while his fingers roamed her calf. “Yes. I agree completely.”

  “You haven’t even tried any yet.”

  “I’m sampling my own dessert.”

  Trying for nonchalant,
she ate the remaining bite of cheesecake without its crust. So rich and creamy and heavy, authentic New York Style. No shortcut cheesecake for Ricardo. “So that’s the way it’s going to be tonight?”

  “It’s only fair. You had dessert last night and I didn’t get any.” No wonder he’d spread the blanket out to protect the carpet. “I must confess to being disappointed in these.” So softly she hadn’t even felt it, those wicked fingers had slipped up beneath the negligee to touch the satin covering her crotch. “I always thought I was a thong man but now… I’d much rather see you wearing nothing at all.”

  “That can be arranged.”

  “Soon. Why don’t you roll over and remind me why I thought I liked thongs first? You can still keep your pie.” When she hesitated, he widened his eyes and pretended innocence. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Somehow when she’d imagined him eating pie off her, it wasn’t off her butt. It made her laugh, though, which was exactly what he wanted. “You’re getting better at this light-hearted teasing gig.”

  “Thanks to you. Mr. Douche Bag has to unbend sometime, right?”

  “Oh all right.” Pretending to grumble, she rolled over and propped her cheek on her hand so she could still eat her pie. She lifted her feet and crossed her ankles, kicking her legs gently. “But if you don’t hurry up, I might eat yours too.”

  “Take another bite.”

  His voice sounded funny, making her look over his shoulder. Donovan Morgan stared at her ass like he’d just found nirvana. Chuckling, she couldn’t help but arch her back a little to lift her butt higher. “I took you for a boob man.”

  “I am, sweetheart, but damn. I’d have to be dead not to think your ass was a gorgeous work of art. Are you eating your pie?”

  She sampled the whipped cream and had to admit it was just as good as Dmitri’s. However, the shaved chocolate took it up a whole other notch.

  His lips fluttered against her hip, butterfly kisses up to the skinny little waistband of the thong. Then he followed the thin strip down the crack of her ass, pressing gentle kisses on either side. His hands stroked the curves of her ass, kneading slightly harder.