Never Let You Down: The Connaghers, Book 4 (18 page)

About the Author

Joely Sue Burkhart has always loved heroes who hide behind a mask, the darker and more dangerous the better. Whether a cool, sophisticated billionaire, a brutal bloodthirsty assassin, or simply a man tortured by his own needs, they all wear masks to protect themselves. Once they finally give you a peek into the passionate, twisted secrets they’re hiding, they always fall hard and fast. Dare to look beneath the mask with delicious BDSM in a wide variety of genres with Joely on her website,
www.joelysueburkhart.com
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Look for these titles by Joely Sue Burkhart

Now Available:

The Connaghers

Dear Sir, I’m Yours

Hurt Me So Good

Yours to Take

Billionaires in Bondage

The Billionaire Submissive

A Jane Austen Space Opera

Lady Doctor Wyre

Her Grace’s Stable

Lord Regret’s Price

Coming Soon:

Billionaires in Bondage

The Billionaire’s Ink Mistress

Lesson one: She makes the rules. Lesson two: Refer to lesson one.

The Billionaire Submissive

© 2014 Joely Sue Burkhart

Billionaires in Bondage, Book 1

The Billionaire.

Donovan Morgan rules his billion-dollar international company with an iron fist. But in the privacy of his bedroom, he hungers for an iron lady to rule his body.

The Mistress.

Lilly Harrison helps her clients tame their personal demons by taming
them
. Lots of men—blue collar to white collar—enjoy female domination. But the ultra-rich and powerful CEO is alpha to the core. In public, that is. The challenge will be to teach him that bossy isn’t always better.

The Contract.

Donovan selects his potential Mistress as carefully as a prime investment opportunity, and negotiates a contract as tight and binding as any corporate takeover. He must ensure his privacy at all cost—even if he has to resort to a little blackmail to ensure her full cooperation.

His First Lesson.

When the indomitable Miss Harrison laughs in his face, tears his contract up, and walks out without a backward glance, it seals the deal. Donovan will have her. Even if she makes him crawl to her side.

Warning: A billionaire used to buying everything he could possibly want—except in the bedroom; a Mistress determined to bring him to heel with her sexy red stilettos; inappropriate use of cherry pie and silk ties; and a steel-clad contract that will keep him exactly where she wants him.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Billionaire Submissive:

Donovan swallowed so hard she could see his throat working beneath his tie and shirt. “Isn’t this kind of physical contact forbidden by your contract?”

She had to congratulate him on his forbearance. He managed to keep his hands off her, even though one hand was clenched on the pen and the other gripped the arm of his chair so hard his knuckles were white. “I guess you’ll have to read the new contract and see what’s forbidden and what’s allowed.”

She squirmed deeper in his lap until his erection pressed against her hip. Clenching his teeth, he tossed the pen on his desk and clamped both hands on her shoulders. “What are you doing to me?”

“Tormenting you.” She twisted her upper body toward him so she could prop one elbow on his chest. “Tormenting myself. Isn’t it fun?”

“No.” His breathing was so ragged he sounded like an asthmatic. “Not fun. Not when I can’t…”

“We haven’t come to any agreement yet, Donovan.” She loved the way his eyes dilated and his nostrils flared every time she said his name. It was almost as fun as watching his lips tighten into a firm slant when she punished him by returning to Mr. Morgan. “There aren’t any rules yet. I haven’t—”

As she hoped, he broke every one of the rules he’d just read in her standard contract by pressing his lips to hers. He inhaled her lips, pushing his tongue into her welcoming mouth on a long, deep groan of need. She threaded her fingers in his dark hair and gripped his head firmly, keeping him pinned while she kissed him back. She sucked on his tongue, pressing her teeth into him until he groaned harder. His right hand immediately landed on her thigh and began the slide up beneath her skirt.

Fisting her hand tighter in his hair, she pulled his head back to break the kiss. “Naughty, naughty boy. Let’s see… You’ve failed to answer the Mistress’s questionnaire, you’ve pressed your genitals against her, you’ve kissed her, and now you’re trying to find out what kind of panties she’s wearing.”

“I’m a rule breaker.” His voice was rough and thick, his eyes heavy lidded with desire. Ignoring the pull of his hair, he pushed his hand up the inside of her thigh.

And she let him. Because she wanted to see the way his eyes flared when he felt nothing but wet, hot flesh against his fingers.

Shuddering against her, he buried his face against her chest. “Mistress.”

She pressed her lips against his ear, holding him close. “Do you think I get this wet for my other clients, Donovan? Even if I did, they’d never be allowed to know it. And I promise you, I don’t. I’ve never been sexually attracted to any of my clients. Hence my very strict and clean contract.”

He didn’t try to get his fingers inside her, but merely cupped her flesh with his hand as though treasuring the intimacy and what it meant.

She wanted him. As a man and as a submissive. She was letting him touch her. As a man. With no contract in place.

Nipping his ear, she pulled back and waited for him to look into her face. “Are we clear on what kind of services I’ve offered in the past?”

He nodded, his dark gaze locked to hers. “Are we clear that I’m going to require more from you than punishment and orders?”

Arching her hips into his caress, she let her voice thicken with desire. “Crystal.”

“And you’ll be willing… I mean…” He couldn’t quite unbend his arrogance enough to say it. Yet.

She smiled and disentangled enough to stand and move back to her own chair. She walked slowly, basking in the way he devoured her every move, slowly turning in his chair until he faced her once more. “I assure you that I’m perfectly willing and able to give you exactly what you need, Donovan. In fact, I’d like nothing better than to indulge right this very moment, but I’m afraid Miss Wruthers might faint dead away if she came in and found you stretched out on top of your desk with your pants down around your ankles.”

His eyes fell shut and he dropped his head back against his chair, breathing deeply. She watched the struggle to bring himself back under control. Yet the arrogant rule breaker couldn’t resist pushing back. “Are you punishing me or…”

His words fell off and he cracked open an eye to see her reaction. His face stilled into the more guarded mask of privileged indifference, hiding the fragile glimpse of raw lust trying to burst into life in his eyes.

He’s protecting himself. If he sets his expectations too high, he’ll only be disappointed.

Moved by his vulnerability, even though he’d deny it vehemently if pressed, she busied herself pulling out the rest of the papers. “Some Mistresses don’t believe in giving any pleasure to the submissive. The sub exists for his Mistress’s pleasure, not the other way around. If he’s not on his knees worshiping her with his tongue, then he hasn’t learned his place and must be punished. I’m not that kind of Mistress.”

He accepted the new stack of papers and even dropped his gaze to them, but his eyes didn’t move across the page.
He’s not reading them. Yet.
“I won’t deny there’s a certain appeal to that image.”

“The sub on his knees or me punishing you on your desk?”

He smiled faintly but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and he didn’t meet her gaze. “Both.”

“But…?” When he shrugged and flipped the page, even though he couldn’t have read it yet, she said what he could not yet bring himself to admit. “You’re hoping for a Mistress who’s as eager to give pleasure as receive it.”

She’d never seen such a powerful and obnoxiously gorgeous man blush so prettily. Again, a shrug, without lifting his eyes from the page.

“If I had your pants down around your ankles, I’d have to give you a blow job you wouldn’t soon forget.
While
I punished you.”

There, his eyes met hers, all searing intensity and pulsing with rising desire. “You would do that?”

For me?
He didn’t say the last two words, but she heard it and it broke her heart. She was beginning to believe his arrogant asshole role was just a mask he wore to protect the inside submissive who feared no one would ever be able to love him as he was, no matter how much wealth he possessed. “Absolutely.”

His gaze wandered to the door briefly, as though he was contemplating locking it so he could test her honesty. When he looked back into her face, she didn’t like the shield he wore once more. “How much is it going to cost me?”

It took all her will not to reveal how much it hurt.
He’s only striking out to make sure I don’t hurt him first. It’s his natural survival instinct.

But it still sucked.

Keeping her voice light, she gave a nod to the papers he’d been pretending to read. “You tell me.”

His eyes tightened, narrowing on her face as if he sensed she was hiding something beneath the surface. Then he flipped back to the beginning of the contract where he’d originally offered Mistress L the sum of one hundred thousand dollars a month to be his. “You crossed out this entire clause.”

“Yes.”

He raised his head, suspicion grooved into deep lines between his eyes. “You didn’t write in an alternative amount.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“So what’s it going to cost me?”

She merely arched a brow and sat silently, gazing back at him evenly.

“I don’t understand. This is your profession. I know I misjudged you earlier, but I demanded you give up all your other clients.”

She nodded. “I emailed each of them last night and broke the news. They weren’t happy, to say the least.”

“So even if this doesn’t work out, you might lose some of them. You might hurt your business.”

It was her turn to shrug carelessly. “I’ve turned away business for years. I’ll find new clients if I must.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re going to accept my contract. You’re going to give up your existing clients, your very livelihood. And you’re not going to take a dime of my money?” He laughed, but it was hard and ugly. “Here I was prepared to blackmail you into agreement, and now I’m getting you for free.”

Her patience was unraveling very fast. “How exactly did you intend to blackmail me, Mr. Morgan?”

“I was going to threaten to tell everyone exactly what kind of business you’re running on the side.”

She nodded, her irritation rising. “So you were going to tell people like my parents and friends and professional clients that I’m a whore. Yeah, that’s a sure way to get a woman to agree to get into bed with you.”

He had the grace to squirm uncomfortably beneath her accusing glare. “I thought—”

“Yeah, we’ve already been over what a boneheaded idiot you are.” She stood up and snatched the contract off his desk. Most of it had been crossed out anyway. “This is what I think of you and your worthless contract, Mr. Morgan.” Then she tore the papers in half, threw them on his desk, and stalked toward the door.

“Miss Harrison, wait. Lilly!”

She heard him coming around his desk but she didn’t slow or turn to look at him. She started to open the door but he flung up an arm and slammed it shut, pressing his weight against it to keep her from opening it again.

“Mistress.”

Finally, he got her attention. She looked at him but didn’t soften her face or give him her words.

“I’m sorry. I’m an idiot. I was wrong.”

“Wrong to even thinking about blackmailing me? Or wrong to think I would actually accept money in exchange for having sex with you?”

“Shhh,” he lowered his voice. “I don’t know how soundproof this door is.”

Ha. She could only hope the simpering Miss Wruthers was pressed against the door on the other side listening avidly. It would serve him right. “That’s your problem, Mr. Morgan. Not mine. You’re the idiot who’s bewildered why I’m furious that you keep trying to shove money down my throat along with your cock.”

“Lilly, please!”

“Please what? Please forgive you yet again for trying to make me into your very own prostitute? Maybe you thought I’d charge by the lash. Drop your pants now and give me a grand. I’ll see how many cracks I can get in before your secretary comes charging in to see if I’m killing you.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered furiously, his face so red it almost made her laugh despite her anger. “Please.”

She at least stopped hurling comments back, but she didn’t unbend her stiffness or withdrawal.

“I was wrong. Terribly wrong. You ought to punish me.”

She let her shoulders relax and he sagged against the door in relief. “I don’t know, Mr. Morgan. You haven’t even answered my questionnaire yet so I know what implements to use.”

“Anything. Anything you want.” She didn’t have to drop her gaze to his crotch to know he was aroused again. “Punish me any way you want. I deserve it for insulting you yet again with my ignorance.”

Pretending to think about it, she shifted her portfolio to her other hand and then finally nodded. “Meet me at Dmitri’s tonight at seven.”

“I can pick you up…” She narrowed a glare on him and he raised his hands. “Or not. I’ll just meet you there. But you will allow me to buy you dinner? It’s the least I can do.”

“Very well.”

“And after?” His voice deepened and he dared to touch her arm, just a light brush like he’d take her elbow and escort her to the elevator if she’d allow it.

She gave him a little nod, and he grasped her arm more confidently. He opened the door and she was half-surprised to see the secretary typing away furiously at her desk just feet away instead of hovering outside to eavesdrop. “And after…dessert.”

“Your place or mine?”

His voice was such a rough growl that Miss Wruthers looked up, wide-eyed with alarm. Lilly smiled and waved goodbye to her, but she did lower her voice to ensure his privacy as much as possible. “Yours.”

“Do I need to have any…equipment?”

The elevator dinged and the door slid open. Ignoring whoever might be stepping out as well as the watching secretary, she reached up and dragged his mouth to hers for a hearty kiss. “Just this, lover boy.”

Releasing him, she patted his cheek and stepped onto the elevator. Before the door could shut, he blocked it with his hand. Panting, he stared at her as if afraid to let her go. His hair was mussed up, his tie crooked, and those poor tortured trousers would never be the same. “Lilly?”

“Yes, Donovan?”

He cast his gaze down the length of her body to land on her favorite red heels. “Wear these shoes tonight.”

She normally didn’t like to take such blatant orders from a man, but for him… She smiled. “You got it.”