The Billionaire Submissive (Billionaires in Bondage) (11 page)

She stuck her finger in the thickened cream and licked it off. “It’s a little runny after sitting in the box with a still warm cherry pie, but it tastes soooo good.”

A sound escaped his throat that made him blush so hotly he swayed again. Dear God in heaven, did he, Donovan Morgan, CEO of Morgan Industries, actually
whimper
?

“Oh, yum, look at these big fat cherries. He must have had some Bing cherries in the freezer.” She dipped her fingers into the pie plate and plucked one of those dark red cherries from the pie. “Mmmm. My favorite.”

She spread sticky sweet cherry pie all over her lips and licked it off with loud appreciation. While he stood there watching, trying not to moan again.

“Are you getting hard for me yet, Donovan?”

He let out a strangled laugh. His cock was so hard he could probably use it to slice her a piece of the pie she was enjoying so much. “Yes, Mistress.”

She folded the box down flat to protect his already stained comforter and set the pie plate on top of it. Thoughtfully, as though she didn’t have a naked, sweating, anxiously aroused submissive standing before her, she broke off a piece of crust and nibbled it daintily. “If I remember correctly, you offended me today in your office.”

“Yes, Mistress.” He straightened, dragging his eyes away from that wicked pie. “I did. I’m sorry.”

She nodded, using her fingers to find another big cherry. This time she tipped her head back and let the cherry fall into her open mouth. He couldn’t look away as she moaned softly, obviously enjoying the treat. Without looking at him, she went after another cherry. “You said I could punish you. You said I could use anything I wanted. Anything at all. Is that right?”

He nodded, unsure whether he could get a word out that wasn’t garbled beyond all recognition.
It’s a good thing she let me come once already, or I’d have already embarrassed myself watching her make love to the pie.

“Do you think I’m enjoying this pie, Donovan? Then help me enjoy it even more. Come here and fuck this delicious cherry pie.”

He stiffened, trying to get his mind wrapped around what she wanted. Like put his dick in it? Seriously? Wouldn’t she regret wasting the entire dessert?

“You heard me.” Her voice lowered, deeper to the vibration that made his spine jangle with alarm and delight at the same time. The voice said
get your butt over here now and do exactly what I told you to do. Or else.

And he wanted the “or else”. Ached bone-deep to have the punishment. The pain that burned his skin and melted through the ice threatening to overtake him.

But he wanted to please her too.

“Donovan.” Her voice rumbled with warning.

Numbly, he moved to the edge of the bed. She reached out and wrapped her palm around him, not hesitantly, not gently, but firmly enough that he rose up on his toes, painfully aware of exactly what body part she squeezed so hard. And then she lifted the pie plate and pushed the head of his cock through the warm gooey cherries.

He’d never felt anything quite like it. It was almost like being inside a woman, without the tightness.

She rubbed him back and forth, stirring the cherry pie to a churned-up mess.

“That’s a pretty pitiful attempt at fucking, Donovan.” Despite her words, her voice was laced with amusement, not disappointment. “Are you going to fuck me so hesitantly? Or are you going to rear back and shove that big dick into me as hard as you can?”

Her words shook something loose inside him. He’d never had a woman talk dirty to him before. He’d never had a woman crack open his head and look inside to see all the secret things he wanted. The things that shamed him to his core. All the secret desires he tried so hard to ignore and forget while his life iced over in the worst winter known to man. She made him look and feel and see, melting the ice inch by determined inch.
And if she tells me to fuck a cherry pie while she watches…

With a low growl, he buried his cock deep into the pie.

“There you go. Good boy.” She released him, letting him set the pace. It was strange, weird, easily the kinkiest thing he’d ever done in his life. He had to brace a knee on the edge of the bed and tip his hips forward to get into the pie, but he managed to thrust hard enough the pie plate skidded on the box.

Lilly braced her knee against the pie plate to give him some traction. Then she drizzled whipped cream all over him, starting from the base of his cock. It dribbled down his belly and dripped off to puddle in the stirred-up pie. White and red. Just like her dress.

“Now that, dear boy, is my dessert.”

He couldn’t quite believe she was going to do it. She’d clipped her hair back from her face, not as smoothly as before but enough he could see her face as she bent forward. Her lush, tempting lips parting to slide down the length of him. Her tongue licking the cherry filling, the trails of cream. She moaned her enjoyment, unafraid, uninhibited, completely at ease eating pie and whipped cream off his cock. Closing his eyes, he rocked into the warm pie, lost in the feel of her lips moving over him.

He heard the crack before he actually felt it. The path of the blow burned in his flesh, a hard slash across the outside of his left thigh. His eyes flew open, his body tensing. Her right arm rose again, bringing the thick wooden spoon down on him again. Again.

His breath came quicker, the pain overriding the warmth of the pie. He forgot all about the cherries, the cream, and even her mouth, at least temporarily. Punishment. What he’d craved so desperately. She hit him again and again, hard enough his eyes burned. He sucked in his breath with each blow, louder, until he groaned with the bliss of it. All from a lousy wooden spoon. He would have laughed and yeah, probably cried, if he had any breath in his body. The blows moved down his leg toward his knee, both on the opposite and the front of his thigh. Such heat. His skin burned like he’d planted the side of his body in the ovens where Dmitri had baked the cherry pie.

She paused a moment, just long enough for him to realize she was changing her position. She pushed him off the bed to stand, abandoning the molested pie. She remained on her knees on the edge of the bed, and this time when he slid into warmth, he had the tightness of her mouth.

Now the blows came from the left. She gripped his hips with her right hand, reaching around his left to land blows deeper on his buttocks. Yet she still managed to suck him so hard his thighs trembled with the effort of holding himself back.

Drawing back a moment, she looked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed, her mouth smeared with cherry. Whipped cream dotted her nose. “You can touch me, Donovan.” Until then, he hadn’t realized that he’d kept his hands locked at his sides. “When I want to keep your hands off me, you’ll know it.”

With trembling hands, he reached out and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to wipe the cherry off. “Li—Mistress?”

“Yes?” She smiled up at him even as she lowered her mouth toward his cock.

“I never… I didn’t think…” Her mouth clamped on him and he couldn’t think. Couldn’t speak. Her hair was tangled in his hands. A blazing fist punched through his gut to bury in his spine and he arched his back, a wordless roar breaking out to drown out any sound of release he’d ever made in his life.

Then she smacked him on the chest with the wooden spoon, directly over his heart, and he swore the last bit of ice encasing his chest cracked and broke away.

Chapter Seven

Panting as if he’d run a marathon, Donovan collapsed on the bed beside her, almost planting his face in the mess of cherry pie. Tenderly, she stroked his cheek. “Are you all right?”

He cracked an eye open and muttered, “Mmmm.”

Laughing, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and sat up.

He forced his eyes open, throwing a hand out to snag her arm before she could get up. “Where are you going?”

“I was going to clean up before we thoroughly destroy your bed.”

“I don’t care about the bed. And don’t you dare throw the pie out until I have the chance to eat some off you.”

He managed to roll over flat on his back, but he didn’t look like he was up to anything more strenuous yet. She settled back down against his side, propping her chin up on his chest so she could watch his face. Lightly, she traced her index finger over the red mark on his sternum. His hips and thighs were probably a delightful pink, but she wasn’t going to make him move to find out. “Are you sure you want to dip into that pie after what we already did to it?”

One side of his mouth twitched up like he was trying to smile, but didn’t have the strength. “You’re probably right. I hate to waste it, though. I didn’t even get a bite.”

She grinned. “It was very, very good. I am sorry, though. I meant to scoop out some for each of us—that’s why I sent you after dishes. I just forgot.”

“The cream’s still good, isn’t it?”

“Runny but tasty.”

“Not as tasty as you will be.” His breathing evened out enough for him to watch her as carefully as she’d watched him earlier. Assessing her reactions. Judging what to do next. He was a very astute man; she feared few of her secrets would remain once he started digging. “If that’s allowed, Mistress.”

“I didn’t see a problem with oral sex on your questionnaire.” She kept her voice light, her eyes on his, her finger doodling on his chest. Even while aching need spread through her core. She was well used to controlling her own desire. It wasn’t often that she had a date like Donovan, a handsome, attentive man who was more than eager to figure out what would make her scream and claw his back.

If I dare show him.
It became difficult to breathe, and not because of the corset, which was more decorative than constrictive.
Because if I show him…I’ll lose him as my submissive.

“I’ve come twice tonight, both times harder than I ever dreamed possible. When are you going to come, Mistress?”

Her hand stilled despite her determination to not show any response or weakness. “We have plenty of time.”

“You spend one hour a week for each client making sure their submissive needs are met. Who makes sure Lilly’s needs are met?”

It took all her will not to back away from this conversation. It wasn’t safe ground.
I’m not ready to lose him so quickly. Oh, my wild sexy beast. I’d hoped to play with you a bit longer. I should have known it wouldn’t last.
“The Mistress—”

“Not the Mistress,” he interrupted. “You.”

Stalling, she gave an experimental tug on his chest hairs. Some men couldn’t stand it. The pain was too sharp and intense, even if she was gentle. His eyes flared and his hand cupped her fingers to stop her, but she had a feeling it wasn’t because of the small pain. He’d seen through her effort to distract him.

“You said you weren’t sexually attracted to your clients. So you might have enjoyed acting as the Mistress for them, but your needs as a woman weren’t met. Did you see anyone else? A boyfriend?”

She shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“Vanilla dates,” he guessed. “Men who didn’t know what you are.”

“You’re too smart for your own good,” she said ruefully. “You’ve seen how hard it is to find someone who not only understands both sides of your personality but is also attracted to them. I’ve dated a few subs in the past but it just didn’t go well outside of the scene.”

“Too clingy?”

“Not exactly.” She tried to think of a way to explain why she’d been so incompatible in the past without getting into the whole ugly truth. Not a lie—she wouldn’t ever lie to him. Just part of the truth. The part he’d believe. “I don’t mind clingy. It just felt like I was doing all the work in the relationship. I’m Mistress in the bedroom, but that doesn’t mean I want a full-time slave. Far from it. Controlling everything all the time is exhausting. In the end, it felt too much like a job and not enjoyment. Certainly not love and desire and passion.”

“So when’s the last time the Mistress got laid?”

Delighted he was unbending enough to tease her, she laughed. “Over a year ago. Almost two, actually. I met a guy who’s a switch, someone who can play top or bottom. But it just didn’t work.”

“Too bossy?”

“He had nothing on you, Mr. Morgan.” She smiled to let him know that wasn’t a bad thing. “No, we clashed in the bedroom. It was like two men determined to lead at the same time. We couldn’t figure a way to work out who was going to lead when.”

“So you never just lie back and let someone take care of you for a change?”

Before she could suppress it, she shivered. It was a small reaction, but he was too intent to miss it. “I never said that.” She tried to change the subject before he dug any deeper. “You should have asked me when Lilly got laid last. That’d be last night.”

She was trying to shock him, make him leap to conclusions again, but this time he was on to her game. “Let me guess. Your beau last night involved batteries. My sweetheart was just my hand.”

Laughing, she asked, “How many times did your sweetheart make you sing?”

“Three. And it wasn’t near enough. It certainly wasn’t anything like what you’ve given me tonight.” With his gaze locked on her face, he lifted a hand to her hip. “The only thing I haven’t figured out yet is how much I’m allowed to touch you.”

“I told you. If I want to keep your hands off me, you’ll know it. Because you won’t be able to lift a finger.”