The Billionaire Submissive
If you love femdom, check out , re-releasing from Entangled Publishing August 21, 2017.
Excerpt
Since his picture was readily available in all the media stories covering his acquisitions and success, she’d known he was a gorgeous man of the tall, dark and handsome variety. She hadn’t expected to be affected by him. Pretty, svelte, arrogant men weren’t her type.
He was pretty, and yeah, he was damned svelte in that impeccable suit. He stood behind his desk, arms crossed, shoulders wide and feet planted, aggressively defiant and proud. It almost made her laugh. She couldn’t resist a wide smile, even if he didn’t know the cause. She hadn’t even opened her mouth yet and he was chomping for a fight. This’ll be fun.
“Miss Harrison.” He spoke in a clipped, hard voice echoing with disapproval. No wonder his secretary had looked at her with such disdain. She’d already picked up on the alpha’s opinion. “Do you have a portfolio?”
Not at all. The large leather thing she held in her hand was merely a strange saddle she’d used on the jackass she’d ridden into town. Of course she had a portfolio. What artist would ever go to a prospective client meeting without a single example of her work?
She didn’t bother answering, but simply stepped closer and opened the leather portfolio on his desk. Of course the pictures were upside down, but she didn’t change it. She wanted to see how he’d respond.
The obvious solution would have been turning it around to face him. Instead, he came around the massive desk to stand beside her. Too close, actually. He intruded on her personal space.
What an interesting situation. If she were at a BDSM club and a submissive dared to approach her so boldly, she’d be more than happy to accommodate him with a little punishment and discipline to teach him his place. In fact, a submissive would only behave such a way if he deliberately wanted to antagonize the Mistress. Could he have any idea…?
She didn’t see how he would know. More than likely he was just an arrogant, filthy-rich asshole who was used to using his physical strength and immense wealth to intimidate people.
Still, she had to teach him a lesson in some way. In a professional setting, though, her options were limited. She certainly couldn’t give him a quick, hard pop with a crop, more’s the pity. And if she wanted the commission…she couldn’t smart off in front of his subordinate.
There was more than one way to battle. It didn’t take words. It didn’t even take action. She closed her eyes a moment and centered herself. This kind of dominance involved her personal energy and will, where every ounce of her concentration, every muscle in her body, was focused on one thing. Releasing a deep breath, she opened her eyes. Like he’d done earlier, she widened her stance just by standing taller, easing her shoulders back, lifting from her core. She projected calm, assertive power. The will that he would step aside and out of her personal space. He would respect her will and her presence. There was no doubt in her mind. No hesitation. He will do as I ask. Or I’ll walk out of here without even entertaining his proposal. I don’t need this job that badly.
“This one’s nice.” He traced a finger over the sketch she’d done of one of her favorites. The glass was all clear, but with different etchings and bevels, she’d created a complex window that cast snowflakes over the entire room. “How big was it?”
Keeping her energy focused, she used her lower voice range that vibrated her body. “Three by three feet.”
She swore his hand trembled slightly as he turned to the next page, but he didn’t move out of her space. “That’s much smaller than what I intend. Could you accomplish the same kind of complexity in a larger scale?”
“Of course. Clear glass in a variety of finishes can be very striking, especially in a large space where color may be too distracting.” She leaned down, deliberately letting her shoulder bump his as a warning. She turned to the next page. Even with only clear glass, you could see three crosses and a rising sun, casting its rays out in all directions. “This one’s in a church down in Iowa, the focal point behind their altar. The final measurements were ten by twenty, though I had to frame the window into pieces to give it the appropriate stability.”
He didn’t back away from the shoulder bump. In fact, he bumped her back, nudging his way deeper into her personal space. He even slid his right foot in front of hers, like he was trying to block her out from her own portfolio.
Lilly cast a quick glance at the secretary. Rooted into place, she watched their interaction with wide eyes, rubbing her arms like she had goose bumps. Some people were sensitive to this kind of energy play, and between her calm assertiveness and his aggressive pissing-match attitude, the energy was definitely high in the spacious office. Maybe he didn’t even realize his secretary still watched. “What do you think, Miss…?”
“Wruthers,” the secretary spoke with a delicate breathy voice. “Isn’t stained glass rather…antiquated? If you were going to remodel the building…”
He let out a low growl, whether from irritation because his underling dared disagree with him or mere frustration that Lilly wasn’t intimidated, she couldn’t be sure. “That’ll be all, Miss Wruthers.”
Evidently the young woman hadn’t been in his employ very long, because she winced and paled, hurt by his callous reply. She scurried out and the door thumped behind her a little too loudly.
He stretched, arching his back even while he leaned down over her work, resting his elbow on the desk casually. For such a lean man, he exhibited quite the nicely rounded ass. It was all she could do not to give him a good, hard swat and see how high he’d jump. “Where were we?”
Lilly let her mouth quirk since he wasn’t looking at her. Silly boy. He really needs a good thrashing.
It’d be all too easy to press against him, letting her body weight urge him down against the desk. It’d be fun to have a big, powerful man like him beneath her, bristling with the urge to fight, but also strangely obedient. Knowing he was too strong, too big, that he could overpower her at any moment, but he chose not to… Instead, he chose to put himself into her hands, to let her do as she would. The ultimate power rush. That he was arrogant, gorgeous and used to being the alpha CEO in all aspects of his life only made it hotter.
Lost in such a tantalizing fantasy, it took her a moment to realize she was pressed against the back of his leg, hugging his thigh with both of hers. Practically riding him. Either he’d backed further into her space or she’d leaned into him. She couldn’t remember. Neither option was appropriate behavior in an office setting, certainly not when she didn’t even know what his inclinations were.
Embarrassed, she jerked backward. “Pardon me, Mr. Morgan. I must have lost my balance.”
He straightened and turned toward her, his dark eyes narrowed on her face. “Lost your balance?”
She gave him a bright smile and without blinking or looking away, said, “I’m not used to wearing heels.”
She had a feeling he knew she was lying but he decided not to call her on it. It wasn’t like he’d peeked into her closet and seen her glorious shoe collection. He settled on the edge of his desk, the epitome of casual male elegance. A wicked glint flickered in his eyes, a knowing smile on his lush lips warning he saw through her thinly veiled disguise that said “nothing to see, just an ordinary woman with boring, normal sexual desires”. Nothing dirty or naughty here. “I suppose you don’t get out very often.”
“Rarely. I’m such a homebody.” She gave him a tiny smile back that said “I know you know I’m lying and I don’t give a fuck”. “Why don’t you show me the space you’re thinking about filling with stained glass? I can take some measurements and give you some ideas of what might work best.”
“Of course.” He straightened, managing to make the movement a delicious, sinuous slide, drawing her gaze down all six-foot-plus length of him. He might have never really worked a day in his life, certainly not outside of an office setting, but his body coiled with sinew and lean muscle. There wouldn’t be much padding anywhere on him except that delectable backside. Nothing to stop the hard thud of a paddle. Or the cut of the crop.
She gave herself a little shake, forcing those thoughts to the back corner of her mind. Later, she’d pull them out and let the fantasy unwind. She’d wonder what kind of fancy underwear he wore. Whether he really had a model’s body beneath the expensive suit or office flab. Whether the rest of him was as darkly tanned as his face and hands. How he’d sound when she brought the crop down on his ass.
But only after I finish this commission. Until then, all business. Mistress L isn’t allowed to come out and play.