by Jenika Snow
Evernight Publishing
www.evernightpublishing.com
Copyright© 2013 Jenika Snow
ISBN: 978-1-77130-454-2
Cover Artist: Sour Cherry Designs
Editor: JC Chute
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
DEDICATION
For my family and readers for being so supportive of me and my dream.
DOMINATED BY THE BILLIONAIRES
The Billionaires, 3
Jenika Snow
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Are you sure about this?” Mara cast an uneasy glance at Rose. Her friend wore a wide grin and kept her gaze trained on the building in front of them.
“Of course I am.” Rose held up the thin envelope in her hand. The elegantly scrawled black ink on the front stood out, almost like a warning. It may have only said You’re Invited, but to Rose, it meant so much more.
“How did you hear about this place, again?” Mara tightened her black pea coat around her body. She felt ridiculous in what she wore underneath the wool.
Rose turned her attention to Mara and rolled her eyes. “Stop trying to find an excuse to get out of this. We’re about to have a once in a lifetime experience.”
Once in a lifetime? Mara highly doubted that. It wasn’t lost on her that Rose hadn’t divulged how she’d heard about the club they were standing in front of, or the invitation she had come by to get into this place––a very exclusive and elite BDSM club. For the hundredth time, Mara asked herself why in the hell she’d agreed to do something so far out of her comfort zone. Because your life is a broken record and you will die soon from the monotony. She couldn’t help thinking how boring, how repetitive it all was. It was all the same: get up and eat one slice of toast, no butter, a half a grapefruit, and a cup of coffee. Once her less than filling breakfast was in her belly, she headed to her boring job. She sat at a tiny cubicle and stared at a computer that always showed the same thing. And when the day was finally over, she was sure to have a migraine right behind her left eye. Then she went home and prepared to start the whole routine all over again. She made incredible money, but was it really worth it in the end?
“Quit worrying. What’s the worst that could happen?”
Famous last words. Rose took her hand and led her toward the old, industrial building. It was located out in the middle of nowhere, and looked like it had been closed down for a good fifty years. On the outside it certainly wouldn’t suggest that an exclusive BDSM club resided within the monstrous rusted steel building, but she didn’t doubt her friend. She had known her since they were fifteen years old: a good fourteen years. It wasn’t until Rose confided when they were twenty-two years old that she was heavily into the BDSM scene. Mara wasn’t naive. She knew what those four letters represented, but what surprised her more was the fact that the girl she called her best friend was actually a Dominatrix. Although, if she was being honest, she had always seen Rose as a strong and independent woman, not taking shit from anyone. It was only natural for her to take that strength and use it in the bedroom.
Mara trailed behind Rose, their heels clicking against the cracked concrete. There were a few streetlights, but their muted glow created more of an ominous setting than one of safety. They rounded the corner, where rows upon rows of luxury cars sat side-by-side. A rather bright light illuminated a single door, its red paint peeling. Rose stopped and turned to look at Mara.
“What?” Mara looked around, suddenly feeling a wave of uneasiness.
“I want to say thanks for taking a chance and coming with me tonight.” Rose pulled her into a tight hug. “I know you’re out of your element coming here, but I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t think you wouldn’t like it and couldn’t handle it.” Rose pulled back and gave her a reassuring smile.
Although Mara never admitted the fantasies she had harbored about submitting to a man, being whipped to obey, and getting tied up for the sole purpose of pleasing him, the images and thoughts were a constant in her mind. It shamed her, and made her feel like there was something wrong with her. It didn’t matter that Rose had admitted her own desires when they’d spoken about it years ago. Mara could never divulge such thoughts. If she ever said it aloud, that would make it real, and she didn’t know if she could handle facing her true desires.
“Listen, we are just going in and looking around. I’m not going to scene tonight, because that would leave you alone and I’m not about to do that. I think if you were able to see for yourself what really happens within the lifestyle, it might make you understand better.”
Mara didn’t bother to correct Rose on the fact that she didn’t need to prove anything––that she accepted her lifestyle, and even secretly thought about participating in it herself.
“These events are pretty hush-hush.” She looked back at the lone red door, and then brought her eyes back to Mara’s. “The men and women in there are filthy rich, Mara … high-ranking politicians and Fortune 500 businesspeople.” Rose’s voice dropped and she leaned in. “I’ve even seen celebrities and royalty at some of these events.”
Mara flicked her eyes toward the ominous door. Her heart beat a little faster, but it had nothing to do with the aristocratic people Rose named off. All she could think about was what she would see when she went through that door. She had seen plenty of movies that depicted dominance and submission, and had even seen women getting whipped until marks lined their flesh and tears streamed down their cheeks. There was degradation and humiliation, but the one thing that was constant when she looked at all of the submissives was their adoration for the Doms, and the complete and utter trust. Her cheeks heated at the thoughts that swam in her mind, and the images of bending to a man’s will and submitting for his pleasure. She might think those thoughts, might even want them, but she didn’t know if she would actually be able to go through with it. She didn’t know if she had the courage to let herself go there.
Chapter Two
Rose stopped in front of the dented and faded door. Mara was a step behind her and looked over her shoulder, expecting a group of thugs to attack them at any moment. Rose knocked three times. A second later the door was pulled open, and a hulk of a man filled the entrance. He wore all black: t-shirt, jeans, and shit-kicking boots. A pair of black sunglasses covered his eyes, even though it was dark outside. His arms, the size of tree trunks, were crossed over a chest that looked as big and sturdy as the walls surrounding them. He didn’t say anything, just waited until Rose held up the invitation. The only response they got was a firm nod, as he stepped aside to allow them entrance.
Mara reached for Rose’s hand as soon as they entered. The door shut behind them with a deafening bang. The hallway was lit so poorly that Mara stumbled over her own feet several times. At the end of the hall was a large open warehouse. With Rose in front of her, Mara couldn’t see what the room held, but then Rose stepped to the side, allowing Mara an eyeful of what was in store. Stepping up to the rusted railing, Mara stared down at the ground floor. They were at least ten feet above everyone else. Red drapes hung discreetly, hiding what she assumed to be rust and metal. There were a few tables set off to the side and a makeshift bar could be seen in the corner.
“Come on.” Rose took her hand again and they descended the met
al grated stairs. Several times, as if this wasn’t uncomfortable enough for Mara, her heel got stuck in the little slots, causing her to stop and tug at her shoe. Her faceburned by the time they reached the main floor. The screams of pain and pleasure, women secured to St. Andrew’s crosses, their bodies striped red from the floggers striking their flesh, filled her mind. Instantly she became wet between her thighs, and pressed her legs together.
“Let’s get a drink and mingle a bit. I’d like to check out some scenes.”
“Scenes?” Mara looked around the room, only vaguely listening to Rose.
“Come on, before you attract the attention of a Dom wanting to pop your submissive cherry.” Rose’s words made Mara snap to attention.
“What?” Rose glanced over her shoulder at her as they made their way to the bar and rolled her eyes.
“Come on, Mara. I know you better than anyone else. You are every Dom’s fantasy.” Rose ordered them a few drinks and untied the knot at her waist. She shrugged her jacket off and Mara’s face heated again at Rose’s outfit. A leather corset covered the upper half of her body. A pair of skin-tight leather pants finished off the bottom half. Her feet were shoved into ridiculously high heels that could kill a man. Rose looked like a Dominatrix in every sense of the word.
Mara took her own jacket off and suddenly felt extremely underdressed, or overdressed,as it was. She looked around the room and noted several men and women wore little to no clothing. Others lounged at the tables or on a few couches off to the side that she hadn’t seen initially. The lighting set the ambiance, but she wondered where all the extreme scenes she had always imagined were.
Rose started talking to the bartender, a tall topless woman with pierced nipples. Mara took the time to really examine her surroundings. Her outfit was a simple black pencil skirt and a red cardigan set. Although it was modest, she was proud of herself for at least color-coordinating with the decor. From what Rose had told her, these “gatherings” were never at the same place. They were always discreet and by invitation only. If not for her friend, Mara would have never even known these types of places existed. Bringing her martini to her lips, she took a small sip and scanned the room. She noticed some men and women naked with nothing but a collar around their throats and leashes attached to their “handlers.” Although Mara had never entertained the idea of being collared like some kind of animal, and crawling around on her hands and knees, she couldn’t help the way her nipples hardened and her panties became increasingly wetter. It should have been demeaning to her, but all she could feel was a slow burn of arousal. Taking her eyes away from the sight thatcaused her body to respond inappropriately, she continued to let her eyes scan the crowd. A plush couch in the corner caught her attention, but it wasn’t the furniture that kept her sight riveted to the spot. Two imposing men sat on the leather. They wore matching dark suits, but the silver and ice-blue hues of their ties were a splash of color in the otherwise dark interior. Despite the fact there were two nude women kneeling beside their feet, their heads lowered and their postures screaming submissive, the men’s gazes were locked on Mara’s. As if mirror images, they each brought their square-cut glasses down to their mouths and tipped them back, watching her over the rims. The way they looked at her, as if they could see through her clothing, caused shivers to race up her spine.
The one on the left, with hair so dark it blended into the shadows, lifted his hand and ran it over the hair of the female by his feet. The act reminded Mara of petting an animal. The other man had blond hair, but she could tell the softer coloring was not a façade to a gentler personality. His eyes were just as hard and unyielding as the man by his side, and when he reached out to the woman and pulled her nipple between his finger and thumb, a stab of lust and longing washed through Mara. She had no idea what it was about those two men, but the way they lounged against the couch, their legs slightly spread apart in a completely relaxed posture, made her want to do whatever they asked just so they would touch her like they were touching those women. The men were familiar, but with the intimate lighting and the shadows that surrounded them, she couldn’t place where she had seen them before.
She shook her head and turned away from them. It was clear they had money and power––hell, everyone aside from her had it going on. Even Rose was well off, given that her father was in the oil business and was very generous with his money to his only child. Her thoughts were ridiculous and implausible. Her wants were not her reality. Being tied up while she was spanked and degraded did not fit into the square slot that was her life.
There was a mirror behind the bar, and even though she had turned her back toward the two dominating men she found herself seeking out their reflections. Her heart thundered when she saw how they watched her. She couldn’t remember a man––or men, in this case, having such a strong effect on her. No words had been spoken, but just looking at them, watching as their expressions darkened and turned more demanding, sent her clit throbbing and all her darkest, deepest secrets rising to the surface.
Through the mirror she watched the dark-haired man run his hand down the back of the woman by his feet. His hand moved up to her neck and pushed her blonde hair off of her shoulder. He then attached a leash to the black collar around her throat. Mara found her hand rising to her own neck. She felt her pulse beat frantically against her fingers, and swallowed. Her eyes went to the blond-haired man, and she saw him watching her even though his hand went back to the woman’s breasts, tweaking her nipples and making them stand erect. Her mouth went dry. Both men stood simultaneously. The woman with the collar stayed on her hands and knees, following behind, the leash keeping slack. Her hips swished back and forth and her breasts swayed. The other woman stood behind the blond, her head lowered and her equally light hair creating a curtain, shielding her features and expression. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her entire posture screaming docile.
What would it feel like to be one of those women, giving up everything for the sole purpose of pleasing the Dom? Seeing the power exchange in person was so much more enlightening, arousing, and exciting than reading about it or watching it on TV. The four of them disappeared beneath the thick red curtains.
“Mara?”
She turned toward Rose’s voice and blinked. “I’m sorry … what?” Rose watched her for several long moments. There seemed to be a hint of understanding in her friend’s eyes, and Mara felt her cheeks heat. Rose looked over her shoulder at the now-empty couch and then looked back at Mara.
“You aim high, honey.” Rose smirked and raised her pink-tinged drink. Her ruby red lips wrapped around the straw as she sucked.
“I--”
“Don’t even try to deny that you were staring at them.”
Mara straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Who?” Mara had no clue why she was denying anything, especially to Rose.
Rose cocked a perfectly manicured eyebrow and smirked. “Jere Alejandro and Nico Woodston.” Mara’s heart pounded when Rose uttered those names. On instinct, she looked back at the couch. Even though they were no longer there, Mara’s body heated at the remembrance of the images that played through her head as she’d watched them.
“Earth to Mara.” She looked at Rose and scowled at her friend’s smug expression. “Yeah, girl––you aim really high.”
Chapter Three
Yeah, Mara knew exactly who Nico and Jere were. The whole free world knew who they were. How could she be so damn blind that she hadn’t recognized two of the most eligible bachelors that graced just about every magazine cover in America, and even some parts of Europe? Being the two most attractive and available billionaire bachelors tended to make people notice you, but up until this very moment she had no inclination that the power duo were hardcore Doms. Maybe she was exaggerating, because yes, it was clear they were into the lifestyle, but she didn’t know how deep their need to control a sub went. Or maybe they just liked the occasional scene? Some men liked to show their strength with some spanking and rope
play. A lot of maybes filtered through her head and she pushed them away. What was the point of imagining what they did with those women? Once again, she found her eyes traveling to the thick red curtains that obscured parts of the warehouse.
“Want to go see?”
Mara looked back at Rose. Her friend watched her expectantly. “Go see?”
“Yeah, honey,” Rose leaned in and smirked. “Want to go see what all the hype is about? Why two of the wealthiest, most attractive playboys in America are at this exclusive party?”
Mara didn’t know why she hesitated. Isn’t this why she agreed to join Rose tonight, to see what had ensnared her friend into this lifestyle? Grabbing her drink, Mara sucked the rest of it down and nodded. Although Rose looked serious, there was a small smile on her face. They both stood and Rose led them toward the curtains that now seemed ominous. What would she find back there? Images passed through her mind, ones that frightened and excited her. Right before they stepped through Rose stopped and turned to look at her. Mara was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she nearly stumbled right into her.
“What are you doing?” Mara did not need to stop. What she needed was to keep going so she didn’t think too hard and end up freaking herself out, because all of this was a little intimidating.
“Just promise you’ll keep an open mind.”
Where is this coming from? “Rose, I’m not some prude. I do know a little about,” she waved her hand around, “this.” Okay, she may not be a seasoned pro like Mistress Rose, but she knew the basics and she knew what she pictured in her head: naked, kneeling in front of a man. A man that knew what she wanted … knew how to give her exactly what she wanted … what she craved.