The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (14 page)

He let out a huff and pushed her door open. “Delicate sensibilities my ass.”

She pressed against his back and gave said backside a very firm squeeze. “Mmmm, no, I believe it’s my ass now. Just don’t be horrified.”

Letting him lead the way down the only hallway where her bedroom could be in such a small townhome, Lilly pointed to the door on the right. “My room. Across the hall is the Mistress’s room.”

Did she really think they were two separate personalities? “You have a separate room for the Mistress?”

She pushed open the door on the left. “The things Mistress L needs are completely different from what Lilly needs. I keep all the equipment in here. My toys, the traditional Dominatrix clothes, the fetish shoes.” Indeed, she had drying racks lined up in the small bedroom holding various outfits of mostly black latex. Hip boots heavy with straps and buckles. A table holding all kinds of paddles, flails and the aforementioned crop. “See anything that strikes your fancy, lover boy?”

“The crop is enough for me.”

“You don’t want any of the clothes?”

“Let me see your bedroom first.”

With a shrug, she twisted the other door handle and pushed open the door. “Make yourself at home. I’m going to pack a bag of toys for the weekend. I guess I’ll just surprise you. But if you see something you want me to bring, grab it.”

Her bedroom was so dark he couldn’t see anything but the vague shape of her bed. Given her penchant for sleeping late, she probably loved the dark cave-like feeling of the room. Fumbling around on the wall, he flipped the light switch.

Finally, color. No beige in Lilly’s bedroom. The coverlet on her bed was a brilliant scarlet. No surprise there. But what did surprise him were the colorful pillows on the bed, all bright jewel tones and different sizes, from royal purple to peacock blue to sunshine yellow. The fabrics were all sumptuous and rich, velvets and satins, a mix of textures to please her sensual side. The curtains were heavy brocade in a rich forest green, floor to ceiling, and instead of just covering the window, she’d lined the entire wall, increasing the feeling of a cave. Actually, no, it was more like a tent. A sultan’s exotic tent in the desert.

The rest of her home was tidy and plain, but she wasn’t exactly messy here. Not like she’d warned. She was just more careless. More open. More herself. The suit she’d worn to his office was thrown on the floor in the corner along with the ugly shoes. An appropriate place for clothes she obviously cared very little for. A pair of jeans were laid out on her bed, as if she’d planned to wear them as soon as she got home. Naturally he grabbed them for her, along with a pair of tennis shoes she’d left at the foot of the bed.

Her bathroom was fairly Spartan in the feminine category, at least in his experience. No racks of perfumes, only a small makeup bag of mostly natural products. A variety of hair products lined the counter, but no lotions or perfumes. He’d hoped to find a clue to what her favorite scent was, but none of her things had fragrance.
She’s sensitive or even allergic. Better avoid any smelly gifts until I know for sure.

“So am I disowned as a messy hoarder?”

“Hardly.” He turned and looked at her. She had her hip cocked, resting against the doorway with a black bag in her hand. “Do you need to grab any of this?”

“Sure, I can just throw it into this bag. I see you found my jeans. That’s about all I wear when I’m home.”

“Sounds good to me, though you might get hot on the boat.”

“Don’t lie to me, Donovan. Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

“Of course I own jeans.”

“But have you ever worn them?”

“Do you think I walk around in Armani suits all the time?”

She let her gaze flicker over his body, noting the shorts and T-shirt he wore now. “No. But I’m guessing you’d burst into flame if you tried to put something on that wasn’t by a designer. The outfit you’re wearing now costs more than everything in my closet except for my favorite stilettos.”

“I thought you said you got them at a yard sale.”

She laughed and headed back to the bedroom. “I’ve been known to tell a fib or two.”

He snorted, pausing at the closet door that revealed a wide array of beautiful heels, all at least three inches high. “I’m glad to see you don’t own any heels. I wouldn’t want you to lose your balance or anything.”

She flashed a smile over her shoulder. “Let me grab Hank’s stuff and I’m ready to go.”

“Hank the dog?”

She pushed open the slider door and let Hank inside. Very well-mannered, he didn’t jump on her or even bark at her guest, though his tail wagged so hard he spilled his water bowl. Donovan had no idea what kind of parentage the dog claimed, though certainly some kind of long-haired breed. “Donovan, this is Hank. Hank, this is my sexy new lover boy. Better get used to smelling him all over me.”

The dog sniffed her hand and then trotted over to sniff Donovan’s leg. Part of him braced for the dog to hike a leg and whiz all over him, an alpha marking his territory. But the dog gave a yip and then followed his mistress to the utility closet where she stored his food and dog toys.

She hauled out a large bag of food, a mesh bag holding at least a dozen balls, and a box of dog biscuits. Easily more things for the dog than for the woman. “Can you grab his bed? I forgot to get it. It’s over by the sliding glass door.”

“Sure.” At least he wouldn’t have pet hair all over his sheets. Though he’d sleep in the dog’s house if she told him to. “Anything else?”

“Can the trunk of your fancy car hold all this?”

“Of course. The bigger question is whether Hank gets car sick.”

She frowned. “He might. Though I might too. I don’t do well in cars for long distances.”

“Lake Minnetonka’s not far. Less than an hour.”

“Okay. We should be fine.”

Outside, she helped him load everything into the trunk. Donovan opened the back door of the Jag but she took one look at the leather seats and grabbed the dog’s collar before he could jump into the car. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

I can’t wait until she can grab and control me like that.
Donovan had to drag his gaze away with a brutal shake
. Idiot. Jealous of a dog.
“Of course it’s a good idea. We’ll have a very, very good time.”

She heard the thickness in his voice and her lips twitched. “Are you sure? Maybe I should just stay here and get to work on your design for the windows.”

“Don’t you dare tease me, Miss Harrison.”

“All right, Mr. Morgan. But Hank rides in the front with me between my knees.”

Donovan muttered, “Lucky dog.”

Chapter Ten

If America ever had royalty, they’d surely come to Lake Minnetonka to vacation. Massive million-dollar houses lined the shoreline but they looked like weekend cabins compared to Donovan’s monstrosity of a house. Three stories high, great walls of windows with breath-taking views of the lake, towers and spiraling stairs and a gorgeous pool with fountains and waterfalls that boggled the mind.

“I thought you said lake
house
. Not lake
castle
.”

“The castle is about two hundred and fifty years older.” He parked in front of the house and a fucking maid came out to open her door. At least she supposed that’s who the woman was. She was dressed in very smart black trousers, a crisp white polo, and had long, sleek black hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. She didn’t bat an eye when Hank jumped out as soon as the door cracked.

“Lilly Harrison, this is Annette Sullivan. She runs the property here and makes sure the boat’s ready to take out at a moment’s notice. She’s the only reason I’m actually able to enjoy these little vacations because I know everything will be ready. Annette, this is Lilly Harrison and her very smelly and hairy dog, Hank.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Morgan,” Annette said. “I try to make your visits as smooth as possible and it’s always sad to wave goodbye. How do you do, Miss Harrison?” She sealed the deal for Lilly when she went down on her knee to love on the dog. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. And you, Hank, will have a wonderful time swimming around in the lake.”

Donovan groaned. “So he can shed on the seats and spray dirty water all over my car on Sunday when it’s time to go back to the city.”

“I kept him in the floor by my feet all the way.” Guilt churned Lilly’s stomach, making her voice ring defensively. Donovan had been a good sport about her dog so far, but it was obviously something he only put up with for her. “I couldn’t leave him at home all weekend alone, and Marie couldn’t take him today. She has to work.”

He surprised her by taking her hand and pulling her into his embrace right there in front of his employee. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m just teasing you.”

“No, you’re right. Your stuff’s too nice and he’s going to make messes. I’m going to make messes.”

He pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Like what you did to my bed last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I don’t care if he chews a hole in the Jag’s leather seats or poops in the Jacuzzi.”

Suddenly, she wanted to cry. The tears were in her throat, a rising, scalding flood. It was just too much to take in. The crazy expensive car, the massive house, the servants, the fucking designer clothes he’d bought for her. One pair of shorts cost more than her car payment. And then for him to be so sweet. How dare he be sweet and kind when he was supposed to be Mr. Douchebag?

Horrified, she pressed her face against his chest, hiding her face until she had control again.

“What’s wrong? Lilly?”

“Nothing.” She forced her head up and smiled for him. “Just an attack of nerves.”

Eyes narrowed, he lowered his voice to the mean snarl that must send Miss Wruthers into a tizzy. “Don’t you dare lie to me, Miss Harrison.”

“Don’t you dare make me curse in front of Annette, Mr. Morgan. She’ll think I’m a trash-talking street urchin and kick me out of your ridiculous mansion before lunch, and I’m starving.”

Annette made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle smothered beneath her hand. “Don’t worry about the bags, Mr. Morgan. I’ll have Trevor bring them up for you. And lunch is ready and waiting, Miss Harrison.”

Donovan tucked her hand around his arm and led her up the sweeping marble staircase to the front door. “Well you do curse like a sailor and I ought to know. My grandfather and father were both ship captains, so I grew up on a boatload of foul-mouthed fishermen and dock workers.”

“Glad to know I’ve succeeded in my aspirations to join such hallowed company.” Lilly tried not to gawk around like the waitstaff at Dmitri’s when he’d pulled up in the oversized limo, but she’d never seen anything like it. If this was his “vacation house” he used for weekend escapes, she couldn’t imagine how over the top the “swanky” Paris apartment would be. Her stomach rolled hard enough she wasn’t even sure she could eat, and that was a sad, sad state of affairs.

What are you doing here, Lil? You’re so out of your league with Mr. Moneybags that no amount of “Yes, Mistress” can possibly make up for the difference.

“Will Hank stay close or do you need to bring him inside with you?” Donovan paused in the entry, oblivious to the grandeur he lived with every single day.

The thought of her dog puking on the priceless Persian rug after the car ride—which inevitably made him sick—made her want to vomit herself. Fighting down her rising panic, she tried not to automatically start adding up dollar signs in her head for every single item in the room she or her dog might destroy. “If we put his bed on the front steps, he’ll come lie down once he’s explored.”

Donovan didn’t even have to give an order to Annette; the efficient woman was already heading back out to instruct the young man unloading their bags from the car. A double staircase flanked the open great room with floor to ceiling windows of breath-taking lake views. Massive stones stacked together on another wall to make one of the most unique fireplaces she’d ever seen in her life. Yet the enormous white sectional still managed to dominate the room.

Yes, white. God. I don’t even dare sit on it.

The next room was just as opulent with a dining table for at least twenty guests and enough silver on display to pay off her mortgage. She almost wilted with relief when he didn’t stop, but kept right on through the room to the kitchen.

“Sit,” he pointed at the high granite-tiled bar while he passed into the main room. It was a sign of her nerves that she did so without telling him exactly where he could go. Her whole apartment could fit inside this kitchen with room to spare, but its old-world stone and wood features made it feel homier than the cold whites and marbles of the rest of the house.

A man about the same age as Donovan dressed in the ubiquitous white chef’s jacket greeted him like a long lost brother, pounding him on the back. “Thank you for inviting me, Donovan.”

“Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“The pleasure is entirely mine. This is your lovely lady?”

“Yes.” Donovan turned to her and his eyes burned with a possessive glint that both thrilled and terrified her. “This is my Lilly.”

It’s too soon for this. I’ve only known him a few days. So we had some terrific sex last night. A powerful scene. He’s just feeling the endorphins of a really good fuck. That’s all.