The tip of the crop tapped on his left hamstring. “Widen you legs. I want to watch your balls turn purple before I’m done.”
Shuddering, he shifted his legs wider apart and dared a small push. “Bruises, Mistress.”
“You got it, Donovan.”
Chapter Eighteen
A good Mistress always set the bar high, both for herself and her submissive. But a smart Mistress knew exactly how high to set the bar, so it was a push…but not impossible.
Coated in a light sheen of sweat, Lilly paused a moment, both to catch her breath and assess Donovan’s condition. Watching him struggle was something she’d never weary of. Listening to the way his groans turned to curses and then to desperate little moans of ecstasy had never turned her on more. In fact, she was so wet her thighs were slippery. If he managed to get his mouth on her, she’d be a goner in seconds.
All he had to do was roll away from her and the game was done. Nothing kept him on his knees with his ass high in the air. Nothing but his determination to give her what she wanted. Hell, he didn’t have to even start the game. A big, strong man like him could have pushed her away with the flick of his wrist. He certainly didn’t have to stand there mute and helpless while she wrapped his cock in a silk tie she fully expected him to wear to work the next day.
Breathing hard, she rolled her aching shoulder and moved the crop to her other hand so she could flex out her fingers a moment. Despite her own arousal and his obvious enjoyment of the punishment she dished out, she hadn’t heard either of the two words she’d set for him, and she was starting to wonder if she’d made a serious mistake.
Maybe he can’t bring himself to beg me. It’s a lot for a man like him to accept. Damn it, he’s so proud, so arrogant. Maybe I was wrong.
It pained her to even think it, but taking a look at the violent streaks on the backs of his thighs and buttocks, she couldn’t push him much further. Not so soon. This was his first real taste of true punishment, and however much he claimed to want bruises, the reality might be more than he could handle. She’d already broken the skin and he was definitely swollen and well on his way to bruised. Plus she had to get some blood moving in his cock or he’d be in serious trouble.
Actually, that might just be the ticket.
She slid her finger beneath his collar and urged him upright on his knees. She even gave him a shake for good measure, making sure he knew exactly how owned and helpless he was. His eyes were so fuzzy she shook him again, harder, until he finally focused on her. He blinked and licked his lips. “Lilly.”
Relieved, she let go of his collar and started working on the tie around his cock. “There you are.”
“Are you done? Did I give you my safeword?” A look of appalled panic flooded his face. “I don’t remember.”
“Shhh, I’m not done with you yet, lover boy.” Shaking her head, she looked up at him a moment. “Though giving your safeword isn’t something you should ever be ashamed of. Brace yourself.”
He blinked again, not really understanding what she meant, but as the silk came off, the blood started flowing again. Trembling, he sat back on his heels, which only increased the pain flooding his system. He let out a roar, his shoulders straining, his head falling back. She grabbed his collar again to keep him upright and held him steady while he thrashed.
“Lilly, please. I want to be inside you. Please!”
In a heartbeat, she joined him on the bed, drew him between her thighs and cradled him close while he came. He shuddered on top of her, sweaty and unable to thrust without the use of his arms, but she didn’t need much encouragement. She slid her hand down between them and rubbed her clit, joining him in release with a soft cry into his ear so he’d know. He’d know how easily she came because he’d turned her on so much.
Panting, he collapsed on top of her, a dead weight of twitching muscles and abused flesh. She managed to get his wrists untied, though, without making him roll off, and then she just held him, running her hands soothingly up and down his back.
“What happened? Why did you stop?”
“You’re one of those rare masochists who can take just about anything the top dishes out. You weren’t ever going to get enough because there’s no end to the need in you. I had to bring you down a little so you could remember your other needs. I’ll just have to make sure I’m keeping a close eye on your body and never push you so far that you’re seriously injured.”
He braced his forearms against the mattress, lifting his head so he could see her face. “That was… I can’t even… I just remember soaring. I mean, it was like my head wasn’t even attached to me anymore. It was wonderful for a while, but then… I guess I started to get afraid. You weren’t there and I didn’t know where you’d gone.”
“I was always here, lover boy, but you definitely flew much higher than I expected. Next time, I’ll make sure to keep you grounded enough that you don’t disappear too far into the clouds again. You’re going to have a nice black and blue backside for days. Before you go to sleep, I need to treat some of the cuts just to be safe. You might also bleed a little on the sheets.”
She’d meant it as a warning, so he wouldn’t be shocked, but his eyes lit up. “I want to see.” He started to push up but groaned and settled back down on top of her. “Later. Unless you want me to move.”
“Never.” She cupped his cheek and pulled him down for a gentle kiss. “You’re one hell of a man, Donovan Morgan.”
“Did I give you what you wanted?”
More than I ever expected. Her throat tightened and she stroked her thumb over his lips. “I’ve always liked giving punishment. I’m good at it. I’m strong, I don’t get squeamish, and I can be a real cold bitch without an ounce of pity when I need to be. Those characteristics served Mistress L very well and allowed me to help dozens of clients over the years. But I’ve never been able to really enjoy it. I’ve never wanted to come while doing it. Not until you.”
If she’d thought he was excited to see the bruises on his ass, now his eyes gleamed like he’d swallowed half a million stars in the sky. “Good. Then I hope to blow millions on you tomorrow and the day after and…”
Laughing, she laid a finger against his lips to shut him up. “Like I said, I can’t whip you every night. You’re going to have plenty of bruises to look at for days and days. That’ll give me time to finalize the windows’ designs and hopefully get the first window in place by the end of the month.”
Nestling his face against her neck, he murmured, “I don’t care if the windows never get done.”
“I always keep my promises, but this one, I made to you. Come hell or high water, I’m keeping it. No matter how many times you want me to beat your delectable ass.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lilly might have asked his secretary to pencil her in each evening at five, but as the days went by, more often than not, Donovan found himself leaving his office and driving out to the warehouse in order to drag her away from her work. He’d tried leaving her alone and waiting for her to call or show up at his condo—he didn’t want to become one of those clingy submissives who made her life work inside and outside of the scene—but he’d quickly realized she got so sucked into the project she simply didn’t know what time it was.
She wasn’t obsessed with completing the work itself—she just got lost in the creation of her projects. If he left her to her own devices, it’d be ten at night and she’d still be cutting glass or one of the other thousands of tasks she claimed only she could do. Even worse, she immersed herself so completely she often forgot to eat. Not to mention the multitude of cuts all over her hands. He’d never realized how dangerous stained glass work could be. Sure, it involved glass, but it never dawned on him those pieces of glass were cut by hand, and even if the piece didn’t break unexpectedly, they were as sharp as daggers. The thought of one of them shattering and taking out one of her eyes made him shudder.
I’m beginning to hate those blasted windows.
Two peo
ple were leaving the warehouse as he pulled into the parking lot. He recognized them both as other artists she’d hired to help her complete the massive project. Rolling down his window, he asked, “Is she still at it?”
“You know it,” Joe said with the cocky grin only a twenty-year-old could give. “I tried to get her to clean up for the night, but since we’re soldering the first pieces, she wanted to make sure everything was fitting well.”
Before Donovan could ask, the older woman, Sally, added, “And no, she didn’t have lunch today, other than a Coke and a cupcake Joe picked up from the convenience store.”
Clenching his jaws a moment to make sure he had control of his temper, he finally managed to speak without ripping someone’s head off. “Wasn’t a beautiful catered lunch delivered on time?”
“Sure.” Sally fought to keep the grin off her face. No wonder Lilly liked the woman—she had the same sense of humor. “She just didn’t eat it. The rest of us enjoyed it immensely, though.”
“Great.” He blew out a sigh and drove up to park at the door. He was sure they were laughing at him. She was a grown woman, for Christ’s sake, not a three-year-old toddler. Isn’t that what she called me when I didn’t want to share? Still, he couldn’t help but try and take care of her. After everything she’d given him, the least he could do was try and make her eat her fucking lunch. Now her language is rubbing off on me too. A sure sign of temper on my part.
He didn’t try to sneak in or even make noise to announce his presence. If she were really deep into the work, she wouldn’t hear a bomb go off, let alone a slamming door.
Inside, she’d set up six large tables like she had in her garage. Instead of installing permanent wood boxes to hold the sheets of glass, she’d brought in commercial grade movable shelving, with pieces of cardboard and toweling in between the glass to protect them. She’d created a smaller space within the cavernous warehouse with the shelving and racks of tools. At the door, a table bore the remnants of the lunch he’d sent over, acres away from her work.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” she growled, startling him.
Had she heard him come in? But why on earth—
“Motherfucker.” She stood up, shaking her hand. “That’s going to leave a mark. Damn it.”
Concerned, he strode toward her, forgetting his irritation she hadn’t eaten. “Lilly? Are you all right?”
She jumped and whirled around, hiding her hand behind her back. “Donovan. Why are you here so early?”
“Early? It’s after six.”
“Oh. Strange. I could have sworn it was two or three in the afternoon just a few minutes ago.”
Ignoring her bright smile, he reached around her and grabbed her wrist to pull her left hand forward. An angry-looking red burn marred the back of her hand between her thumb and forefinger. He sucked in a breath and dragged her toward the bathroom.
“It’s not that bad. Donovan, seriously. I’ve burned myself much worse than this before. I usually keep an aloe plant handy just for this reason. That’s what happens when you use a four-hundred-degree soldering iron.”
“And where’s your aloe plant? At home?” He fought to keep his tone even and controlled, even while he seethed inside. “Why didn’t you put a first-aid kit on your list of supplies? Damn it, Lilly, I had no idea you’d get hurt making these fucking windows. I never would have asked you to work on them if I’d known you’d look like you tangled with a bobcat and then fell into an oven.”
“One,” she smiled faintly. “I never thought I’d have to start the count for your language.”
“Lilly!”
“It’s no big deal. Honest. I burn myself all the time. It happens. Glass cuts me sometimes. It’s the price I pay to create such beauty.”
“I don’t like it,” he ground out. He could hear the mean, hard edge to his voice but he couldn’t help it. His mouth twisted into a snarl. “I don’t like you getting hurt.”
She ran her hand beneath the cold water a few seconds and then sudsed both hands well despite how much it must sting. “Too bad.”
Too bad? With a growl, he grabbed her arm and whirled her around to face him. “I. Don’t. Like. It.”
Lilly let out a low, velvety laugh that tied his intestines into knots. She even reached up and unbuttoned his shirt. What the…?
Then her fingers slipped under the collar he wore and she jerked his head down so hard he almost broke his nose on the top of her head. “I’m so very sorry your silk panties are in a wad, Mr. Douchebag, but it’s my job. The job you hired me for. I’m going to do the very best job I can. If you’re upset that I burned my hand, buy me a big fucking aloe plant tomorrow.”
Staring into her eyes, he tried to control his breathing, but one touch on the collar had him panting on the very edge. All his anger and worry fueled his lust to what could be a violently combustible explosion. “Two. And your boss is a complete fucking moron for putting you in danger.”
“Three. And I’m not in danger, silly boy. It’s nothing.”
“But—”
She let go of his collar so he could straighten. “Think about it. I’m not seriously injured. It hurts, yeah, but what do you think pain does for me? I can turn it into something else entirely.”
He knew very well what pain did for him, but it never occurred to him she might feel some of the same rush of endorphins. “That fucking iron wasn’t a fucking crop.”
“Five,” she replied, carefully blotting her burned hand dry on a napkin. “I never said it was. A serious injury would only hurt. This hurts, but with you standing here arguing and swearing and trying to intimidate me with your alpha arrogant ways, it only turns me on more.”
“Prove it.”
Her eyes narrowed and she planted her hands on her hips. “Be very careful, Donovan Morgan. Don’t throw down a challenge you don’t want to lose.”
She wasn’t sure what kind of game he was trying to play. If she didn’t know him better, she’d suspect he was trying to provoke her into taking him here and now.
In this very public, dirty warehouse bathroom.
That’s not Mr. Morgan’s prim and proper style.
“Prove it,” he growled out again. His eyes glittered, his hands fisted at his sides, his shoulders squared belligerently.
“All right. I will.” She unbuttoned her jeans and his eyes just about bugged out of his head. When the zipper came down, he growled again, a low warning rumble. “Did you think I wouldn’t actually do it?” Her jeans were tight enough she had to work her hand down inside her panties. Luckily I didn’t burn my right hand. That’d hurt like a bitch rubbing on all this denim. “You know I love a challenge.” She tipped her head like she was searching for something while she worked her fingers deeper. Deliberately, she let her breath catch on a husky moan. “Ah. Yes. Definitely wet.”
He slammed into her so quickly she couldn’t even think. One minute she was standing. The next, he had her sitting up on one of the sinks, her back against the mirror. “Let me see. Or better yet, give me a taste.”
She hauled her hand out and slipped her fingers into his mouth. He sucked on them greedily, wrapping his tongue around her fingers until she moaned again. “You’re so good with your tongue, lover boy. I don’t think you’d even have to put your mouth on my clit to get me off.”
He pulled back enough to say, “Let’s find out, shall we?” He licked just her fingertips. “Though maybe I can help out just a little.”
His fingers stroked on the outside of her panties, tracing the triangle bared by her gaping jeans. She squirmed against him, working to get him deeper. “I ought to just shove my pants down and let you have at it.”
“Don’t you dare. God only knows what kind of infectious diseases are in this dump. I can manage just fine like this.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t had a hazmat crew out here to clean this bathroom up to your standards.” She tried to keep her tone light, but his tongue… Damn. He flattened his tongue around her fingertip, push
ing and rubbing just like he would on her clit. She pushed her finger deeper, in and out, mimicking a good slow fuck that made him tighten his mouth around her. “Someday I’m going to fuck your delicious ass. If you’ll let me.”
He moaned around her finger, sucking harder. His knuckles ground against her clit, making her arch into him. She wrapped her hand around his nape, crooked an ankle around his hips to keep him close and then closed her eyes and let go. Her body quivered, muscles clenching with release, but it only made her hungry for more. She wanted him inside her, all his fury and strength pounding her into the wall. Ravenous for him, she jerked her finger out of his mouth and started working one-handed on his trousers.
“Lilly?”
She pressed her mouth to his, tightening her grip on his hair. Swinging her other thigh up, she trapped him close, though he could certainly break free if he tried. He kissed her back a moment, sucking on her tongue as diligently as he’d sucked her fingers earlier, but then he twisted his mouth aside with a low, desperate sound.
“Mistress, this isn’t…”
She leaned up and bit his lip hard enough his breath rushed out. His pants weren’t nearly as tight as her jeans, so it was easy to get her hand on his cock.
“Glass. Glass!”
Shaken, she froze, not even breathing. His safeword. I drove him to use his safeword. God. What have I done?
“I’m sorry, Lilly, Mistress. Please, don’t do this to me. I can’t make love to you in such a filthy place. I never intended for it to go so far.”
Sighing out the breath she’d been holding, she dropped her head against his chest. She pulled her hand off his cock, even though it made her groan with loss. At least she hadn’t unbuttoned his pants, just unzipped them. He’d probably never forgive me if his pants had touched this dirty floor. “Don’t you dare apologize, Donovan. I’m terribly sorry I took you this far. I know your limits.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered, rubbing his chin on the top of her head. “I love your passion. I love how easily you forget everything but me. I just don’t want to look back and remember this place. Not like that.”
The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) Page 19