Billionaire’s Captive
A Beauty and the Rose Box Set
Stasia Black
Lee Savino
Copyright © 2020 by Stasia Black and Lee Savino
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
Contents
Freebies
Beauty’s Beast
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Epilogue
Beauty and the Thorns
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Beauty and the Rose
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Also by Stasia Black
Also by Lee Savino
About Stasia Black
About Lee Savino
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Beauty’s Beast
Prologue
THE BEAST LOOMS OVER ME, half in shadow. In the dark, the scarred skin around his mask disappears. When he turns his head I get a sense of deja vu, like I know him from somewhere—
“Go to the bed and lie down, face up,” he demands.
I swallow. My hands come up automatically to cover my breasts. “Ah ah,” he catches my wrists and moves them apart, baring my chest to his gaze. My heart is pounding, overwhelmed. I’m so vulnerable right now.
Still holding my wrists, he backs me to the bed. When he lets go, I scramble up and lay back. Maybe if I obey him, I won’t have to worry. I won’t have to think. Let go and be mine, he said earlier. But can I really do that? This man is my enemy.
And yet, when I see him rise after bending to grab something at the base of the bed, I scuttle to the headboard and plant myself there, my knees drawn up to my chest.
“You want to tie me up?” I squeak. “Again?”
He tosses the chain onto the bed. The silver length has a leather cuff on the end. I clutch my wrist.
His gaze never leaving mine, he heads to the foot of the bed, leans down, and reveals a second restraint. There’s one at each corner of the bed. Holy—
He ends up beside me again, unbuckling the leather cuff for my left wrist.
“Submit, Daphne.”
Run. Any sane woman would run. I’m out of my mind, giving into this…craving this. It’s wrong. All of this, so so wrong. I could tell myself I have no choice, but it’s not true.
I could’ve protested when he announced it was time for my punishment, and he would’ve backed down, tucked me into bed and coddled me like an invalid. It was my curiosity as much as his depravity spurring us forward. I don’t want to stop. I’m in too deep.
So I scoot down and lie back. After a pause, I slowly spread my arms and legs. The ultimate submission. That fact that the position makes my pussy throb has nothing to do with it. How long will I keep lying to myself about why I’m really staying?
“Good girl,” he murmurs, taking my left arm and securing the cuff around my wrist. “Flex your fingers for me?” I do and he strokes the tips. His dark eyes bore into mine and my core clenches. He only has to touch my fingertips to turn me on.
“Too tight?” he asks. My breath hitches and I shake my head. His cheek curls—another smile!—and he heads down to cuff my feet.
“You’re being so good, Daphne. You know what that means?”
“What?” My voice is husky. The sound of it surprises me—I’ve turned into a sexpot. I’ve never felt like this before, but this moment is one of many firsts. He’s still dressed like always, but this time, I’m unafraid as he strips me bare. Lying down and letting him restrain me with an excited willingness.
I’ve never been more turned on. My nipples are crinkled peaks, begging for attention.
“It means you get a reward.” He turns and walks away, leaving me helpless and bound. My arms are stretched over my head, my legs able to bend a little but not move much more than that. What is he going to do to me?
When he returns, I’m almost panting, my heart fluttering in the cage of my chest like a captured bird. But my nipples are harder than ever. And my pussy aches...
“Shhhh.” He lays a large hand on my chest, splayed over my breastbone. “Calm, Daphne. I won’t hurt you.” A quirk of his lips, a crooked smile. “At least, not more than you like. Because you like some pain, don’t you, kitten?”
He leans in and breathes in my ear, drenching my sex with his every word. “There’s so much for us to explore. So many combinations of pain and pleasure. So many ways to make you feel alive...” He lowers himself down and I let my head fall back. I can’t fight anymore. When his tongue finally touches me, I give in completely.
One
Daphne
I scrub my eyes as I
jog up the stairs after another exhaustive session down in the lab. Still no breakthroughs.
I circle around to my desk. Maybe if I just resequence the—
But then I freeze.
A single red rose is waiting for me on my computer keyboard. I approach my desk carefully, looking around.
But there’s no one in this part of the building. No secretary or gatekeeper to witness a random rose delivery. Nothing but the normal hum of machines from the offices down the hall.
Except for the rose.
My desk looks the same—stacks of paper, lab reports in white binders, budget reports in green ones. My stomach gives a growl. I haven’t eaten anything but a granola bar at some point during the night. What time is it? I’ve been down in the lab for who knows how long. It’s easy to lose track of time down there.
My hunger can wait. I circle my desk and settle into my chair, leaning down to study the rose as if it’s something other than a pretty blossom—something dangerous, like a bomb.
But it’s just a rose. There’s no note, no hint of who sent it.
Just like last year, and the year before, and every year since my eighteenth birthday.
I roll the stem between my thumb and forefinger. When I can’t wait any longer, I bring the bright red bloom to my face and drink in the sweet perfume.
Most store-bought roses have no scent. They’ve been bred over the years for appearance instead of fragrance. But this rose is different.
This rose grew in a garden.
“Rosa x hybrida,” I murmur the Latin name. The thick rosette petals are like a fancy lady’s ball gown and petticoats. Definitely a hybrid bloom.
“Daphne?” my assistant Rachel calls.
“In here,” I call, without pulling the rose from my face.
“How did I know I’d find you here or down in your hermit hole?” Rachel walks in, her eyes glued to her tablet. In her white skirt suit with her blonde hair in an elegant chignon, she looks more like a CEO than I do. The pen tucked behind her ear only makes her more official.
“Okay, because I know you won’t let it rest till I update you, I sent the board the updated merger packet, but I still need—” She finally looks up and stops talking when she sees me pressing the rose to my face. “Is that…?”
I nod.
Her posture softens, her face registering sympathy. She’s one of the few people who knows about the mysterious yearly rose delivery and the event it marks. “Oh, Daphne. Is it today? I thought it was last week.”
“No, you’re right, it was Wednesday. You arranged the bouquet to be delivered, right?” I must look ridiculous, sitting at my desk in my lab coat, sniffing a rose. I briskly stack a few papers on my desk.
Rachel nods. “A dozen white roses. I had them delivered directly to Thornhill. Are you going to visit?”
“Not this year.” It hurts to even say it. Who doesn’t have time to go visit their own mother’s grave? I tap the desk, my fingers itching to pick up the rose again. I grab a tiny origami swan off my desk instead—a gift from one of the many Battleman’s patients who are counting on my research.
“I don’t have time. I would’ve gone Wednesday, but I had to prepare for the meeting with the board. I’m already on thin ice with them.”
Not that the meeting went well.
“What time is it?” I change the subject. My eyes are too tired to check a clock.
“Three in the afternoon. On Saturday.”
“What?” I whip off my glasses and grind the heel of my free hand into my eye socket, trying to get rid of the gritty feeling. “Really? When did that happen?”
“It’s a result of the earth rotating combined with its position relative to the sun.” Her tone is perfectly dry. “Happens approximately every twenty-four hours.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You promised me you would stop working through the night.”
“I wanted to put the results of my latest experiment into a report for the board. Show them how much progress we’ve made…”
“Daphne, you can’t keep doing this. I know you’re a genius and all, but you’re not Super Woman.”
“I slept a little. I think.” I stretch my neck to the side and rotate my shoulder. My muscles creak and crunch in protest. Pretty sad for a twenty-six year, almost twenty-seven year old. “And I’m not a genius.”
Rachel snorts.
I narrow my eyes at her. “Wait, if it’s Saturday, why are you here?”
“To get you ready.”
I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. “Ready for what?”
She raises a brow. “The Autumn Gala.”
I groan and let my head fall back on my chair. “Oh shit, that’s tonight. I completely forgot.”
“You’re going through a lot.” She picks up an old newspaper off my desk and makes a face at it before tossing it into the trash. “I wouldn’t bug you about this but—”
“No, no, I’m glad you’re bugging me. I have to go to the gala.”
“Donations from the Ubeli foundation are still a significant part of our R&D budget,” Rachel recites. “Without the Ubeli’s generosity, Belladonna would’ve shut down year one.”
“I know, I know.” I stand and stretch. “I’ve been going to these since I was a teen.” A gangly, awkward girl, out of her depth among the glamour and glitter of the highest echelons of New Olympus society.
Ten years hasn’t changed much. I’m taller. And still can’t wear heels for shit. “Oh gods, how am I going to get through this?”
“It’ll be fine. Cora Ubeli likes you.”
“Cora Ubeli is the supreme ruler of high society. She’ll be surrounded by people. And I usually go there with Dad.” This is the first year I’ll be alone.
Rachel picks up the rose and toys with it. “Maybe you’ll meet…” she deepens her voice playfully. “your secret admirer.”
“I do not have a secret admirer.”
“Then who sent this beautiful rose?”
My chair creaks as I sink into it. “Probably my dad.”
“I thought you asked your dad if it was him and he vehemently denied it.”
“Yeah, well, of course,” I roll my eyes.
Rachel points the rose at me. “Dr. Laurel is a genius, but he can’t lie worth a damn. If he said it wasn’t him, then it’s someone else.”
“Like who?” Locked doors and tight security don’t deter the annual delivery. Last year I even checked the delivery records and the security cameras in the lobby. Nothing. Whoever left the rose snuck in and out of the building like a ghost.
She flashes her eyebrows. “Adam Archer.”
“No.” I pretend to organize a pile of papers on my desk, but my cheeks are two Bunsen burners.
“He wants in your pants,” she singsongs, switching seamlessly from Rachel The Very Professional Executive Assistant to Rachel The Teasing Matchmaking Friend.
“Adam Archer does not want me like that,” I wave a hand. “Adam is…” I shake my head. “He’s just an old friend. The only thing he’s interested in is the business merger. That’s the only reason we’ve been spending more time together lately.”
“Friends don’t look at friends like he looks at you.”
“He’s like an older brother.” A smoking hot, unrelated, older brother—but seriously, it’s not like that. “He’s known me since I was a girl. He doesn’t like me. Not that way.” I push back a stray lock of my hair.
Rachel scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he does. He’s asked you out several times.”
“Those are working lunches.”
“And dinners. He also took you to the aquarium. And the symphony.”
“That was a good opportunity to network. Some of the board was there, too.”
She narrows her eyes. “Would it be so terrible if he was into you? He’s pretty hot. New Olympus’ Most Eligible Bachelor like five years in a row. Plus he’s heir to the Archer fortune.”
“I just…well, he’s him. And I’m…” My hands flutter helplessl
y. “I’m me.”
“And you’re fabulous.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m a good researcher. Not so great at anything else.”
“Not true,” Rachel says gently. “I know you’re inexperienced when it comes to men.”
“Understatement of the year,” I snort. “I’ve never been on a date.” Never even been kissed.
“You’ve never realized you’ve been on a date,” she corrects. “There’s a difference. Because I’m pretty sure all these outings with Adam count as dates. He’s just such a gentleman, he’s taking it slow.”
“Do you really think he’s…into me?” Into me? Do they even say that any more? Kill me now, I sound like a teenager. Which, okay, socially, I am. But really, I can’t even wrap my head around what she’s suggesting. I spent all my early teens studying, not partying. I got into college early and threw myself into a research path as soon as humanly possible, following in the footsteps of my brilliant father.
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