The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (18 page)

His arms were pinned in the small of his back. His face to the floor. His ass on fire and completely vulnerable. And his cock was so hard and swollen it didn’t even feel like his any longer. Like his brain didn’t even connect to it, nerves and muscle severed by her will alone.

She wrapped her palm around it in a hard, firm squeeze that made him buck helplessly beneath her. “Come, Donovan. Come for me.”

It was like her words plugged his cock back into his brain and ten thousand bolts of live electricity arced through his body. He convulsed, shaking, unable to stop. And yeah, by the way his ears rang and his throat ached, he must have yelled as loudly as she threatened before he was done.

Curled up on his side, he fought not to cry like a baby while she unbuckled his wrists and then wrapped around his back. “I’m sweaty and gross,” he finally managed to say despite his raw throat. “Don’t—”

“Shhh.” She burrowed closer and tightened her arms around him. “Be still a moment. Let me hold you. It’s all right, Donovan. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her gentle words tore through the last bit of his reserve and he shook in her arms. Great, racking sobs wrenched from him like she reached inside and yanked them out with her fist. Everything dissolved inside him. Everything he would have sworn he believed or knew about himself. Gone. Everything he’d fought his whole life to obtain. Worthless. Everything he’d ever wanted or felt with another woman paled in comparison.
If she told me to stop breathing right this very moment, I’d simply die on the spot, gasping like a fish on the beach.

He lost track of time, unable to estimate how long he cried. How long she held him. He’d never broken down like that before. Even when his mother had died when he was just a boy. Or when he’d found his father gone in his sleep. The loss of his only family hadn’t devastated him as much as this woman’s simple command.

Terror clawed at his stomach, making him hunch against the pain. He tried to move away from her a little, to protect himself, but she wouldn’t allow it. She was stronger than she looked, but more…

I’m weaker than I ever thought I was.

How could she ever desire him again as a man? After breaking him down so completely?

It shouldn’t surprise him that she could crack open his skull and look inside his most secret thoughts.

“It takes quite an impressive man to accept the full force of his need like you just did. You could have walked away at any time. All you had to do was give me your safeword. Instead, you chose to take the journey with me. You trusted me to see you safely to the other side. There’s nothing sexier to me than a man who’s secure enough in his masculinity to let me explore his needs to the fullest, to give him the most pleasure I can possibly wring from every inch of his body. Yet that’s exactly what you just allowed me to do, and I thank you most humbly for it.”

He still couldn’t quite believe her words. He was too raw, too tender and shredded inside to believe a sexy, passionate woman like her could still want him.
After she brought me to my knees. After I fell apart in her arms.

“Roll over.” She growled against his ear in one of the meanest, harshest voices he’d ever heard her use. Every submissive bone in his body immediately moved to obey, even if his muscles felt rubbery and elastic. “Look at me.”

He didn’t even realize he’d squeezed his eyes shut. He pried them open, braced to see disgust, disdain, some kind of distance in her eyes.

Not the sweet, glorious light that Andy Wells had managed to capture in those snapshots.

“You’re one hell of a man, Donovan Morgan,” she retorted fiercely, “and I want you more than ever. If I thought I could get a rise out of your exhausted cock, I’d take you in my mouth right this very moment until I could get you hard enough to take you inside me.”

He couldn’t say anything, still shaken and off balance.

“You don’t believe me?” She took his hand and slid both of their fingers into her panties. “Then what’s this, Donovan?”

She was so wet the silk of her panties was drenched and stuck to her flesh.

Awed, he watched her rise up on her knees. Using her own hand, she pushed his fingers into her, grinding her hips so she could ride him. She kept her own fingers in her panties too, rubbing herself while he thrust his fingers inside her. Moaning, she didn’t hold anything back. She let her head drop back, her breasts bouncing with the force of her movements, unrestrained and so wild and passionate it took his breath away.

And yeah, maybe his eyes burned again. Just a little.

“Who made my pussy so wet? Who’s all this cream for, Donovan? Who’s driving me crazy now? Say it.”

“Me.”

“And what do you want me to do most of all right this very minute?”

Her muscles contracted around his fingers, as hungry and desperate and needy as he’d been. He twisted and worked his hand deeper until he could get another finger shoved inside her. “I want you to come. Come for me, Lilly, and only me.”

And she did with a piercing shout that scared the last bird out of the tree he hadn’t already driven away.

Chapter Thirteen

It was a quiet trip back to the dock, but Lilly wasn’t concerned about his mental state or wellbeing. Not when he held her hand all the way back to his house. Or when he scooped her up into his arms and carried her all the way up those sweeping marble stairs to his bedroom.

Sensing his need to reestablish his virility after breaking down so completely, she let him take the lead and do exactly what he wanted. When he fell on her like a starving beast, she met him with legs open wide. He ripped through the designer clothing he’d bought her as carelessly as if she’d picked up her outfit at a thrift shop. Breathing hard, he didn’t stop to assess whether she was ready or not. No foreplay was needed. Not after what they’d done on his boat.

And yeah, he might have chosen plain old missionary, but even the Mistress had to agree there was something deliciously erotic about having a powerful man flexing and moving on top of her so savagely. His shoulders and back flexed, each thrust punctuated by a grunt of force. He pounded her so brutally he drove her across the mattress. Flailing, she tried to grip the sheets to keep from slipping, but pillows fell to the floor, along with a lamp and whatever else he had on the bedside table.

They ended up tight against the wall, one of his hands braced on the headboard and his other kneading her breast until she clawed his back. Donovan Morgan was a quick study. He didn’t need a manual to figure out how hard she liked his hands and oh, yes, his palms were big, his fingers long and elegant, perfect for tormenting her nipples. Combined with his impressive size and seeming determination to drive her through the wall, she came twice and promptly fell asleep.

Only to wake up and find out
someone
had gone shopping. Evidently she’d been asleep longer than she intended—or maybe he was just speedy with his platinum gold card. Racks on wheels like they used in hotels were lined up at the foot of the bed bearing a ridiculous array of shimmery fine things that must have cost a fortune. Boxes of shoes. More flat lingerie boxes.

Stunned, she sat there gaping, glad he’d at least popped in like the fairy godmother and then left again so she could try to soak it all in without an audience. Running her fingers over an entire rack of beautiful formal gowns—where the hell did he think she was going to wear all this stuff? Her shop in the garage?—she had to smile.

Even if I’m pissed as hell.

His game was clear. He was already building up the count before he’d even recovered from his introduction to her crop.

Evidently he had something extravagant planned, because the rack closest to the bed only held one dress with its own stack of boxes. After his story about growing up on the fishing boats and his father’s love affair with the sea—not to mention Donovan’s selection of all blue lingerie—it didn’t surprise her the gown was a sumptuous blue-gray. What did surprise her was how perfectly it matched her eyes.

He’d also selected an entire set of lingerie, including a tiny scrap of a thong, a garter belt and bra in a soft, shimmering silver matching the strappy metallic heels. Silk stockings so sheer and light they might as well have been made from spider webs. The bra was going to heft her breasts as high as any corset and the dress’s neckline was so low it would almost reveal her bellybutton. Okay, that was an exaggeration, but he was definitely going to have a hard time keeping his eyes off her cleavage.

In the chair beside the bed, he’d left her overnight bag of her own things. Jeans, comfortable shirts, tennis shoes. On top, he’d left a note for her.

Lilly, choose what you’re most comfortable with. I’ll love either outfit. Remember to increase the count either way.

P.S. Come hungry.

He’d only signed a D at the bottom of the note. Disappointed he hadn’t used Lover Boy or Sexy Beast, she looked at her old familiar comfortable clothes and then the sexy expensive gown. She didn’t recognize the swirling V of the label, which probably meant it was even more expensive than anything she could imagine.

Increase the count either way. Silly boy.
Grinning, she had to put on the gorgeous dress just to see the way he looked at her.

She went in search of a shower, which ended up looking like a Roman bath. Shaking her head, she found a vast array of products, even some which would probably help tame her hair. A whole tray of perfumes and lotions was on the vanity, but she turned them all down. Most scents didn’t agree with her unless they were all natural essential oils. He probably had some of those around too—since they were extremely expensive per ounce—but she didn’t care to take the time to sort them all and find one that wouldn’t break her out.

Staring at herself in the full-length mirror, she had to admit the dress looked incredible. Her breasts were framed by the deep neckline, lifted by the plunging bra beneath. The dress wasn’t as tight as the wiggle dress she’d worn on their first date, but it wasn’t as forgiving either. No ruching hid the roundness of her stomach, the fullness of her hips.
I really ought to lose twenty pounds.
She sighed at the thought of giving up pie.
I’ll have to walk Hank extra tomorrow. And give Donovan an extra hard workout.

That made her smile.

She didn’t have any idea how long he’d been waiting for her after delivering all the surprises, though surely if he needed her up by a certain time, he would have added a time to the note. Set an alarm. Something. It was nearly eight before she finally headed downstairs to find him.

The house was well lit but completely empty.
At least he’s not throwing an impromptu cocktail party. I suck at mingling with people I don’t know.

She followed the delicious smells to the kitchen. Ricardo and Annette both were hard at work at the humongous eight-burner stove but chatting like old friends.

“Miss Harrison, you look gorgeous this evening.” Annette wiped her hands on a towel and then gestured her to follow. “Mr. Morgan’s out on the terrace.”

“Thank you,” Lilly replied. “I hope I didn’t keep him waiting too long.”

Annette laughed. “Not at all. Trevor’s been entertaining him.” As they walked, Annette added, “Trevor’s my son and we had a tough go there for a while. The chance to live on such an incredible property and manage things while he’s in the city is a once in a lifetime opportunity, but I’m even more grateful to Mr. Morgan for taking an interest in my son and giving him responsibilities around the house. He’s helping us out more than he could ever know.”

After Donovan’s story about how he’d grown up alone with his mother, Lilly was far from surprised he’d be especially sensitive to a single mother’s needs with a teenaged boy. “He knows, because he was that boy growing up.”

Annette laid a hand on her arm, halting just inside the sliding glass door. Outside on the stoned terrace, a romantic dinner had been set up with a small intimate table, lots of candles and soft lighting, flowers everywhere, and a chilled bottle of wine waiting for her to step outside. But what made Lilly’s heart swell in her chest, blocking her breath, was the sight of Donovan. He sat with his back to her, so she had no idea what he wore, other than it was something dark and formal. No doubt it cost a mint. Yet he hung his arm out over the side of his chair and was patting on Hank, her smelly, hairy dog he’d jokingly complained about all the way out from St. Paul.

Trevor threw a ball across the backyard and Hank went running after it, barking excitedly. The ball bounced off the low stone wall and before the dog could fetch it, Trevor caught it and tossed it back to Donovan. Laughing, he waited until Hank was a foot away from leaping on him and ruining his expensive suit, and then threw the ball back to Trevor.

Donovan laughed and the sound brought tears to her eyes. Mr. Moneybags, playing keep away with a boy and a dog.
Be still my heart.

“Mr. Morgan cares about you a great deal. I can see it in his eyes. I just wanted to be clear up front I never had any expectations of anything more. That isn’t our arrangement at all, Miss Harrison.”

“I understand. I mean no offense, because I’ve already seen how much he depends on you, but you’re not exactly his type.”

Relieved, Annette actually winked at her. “And you are. The sexual tension sizzles whenever you’re in the room with him.”