Page 19 of The Billionaire Submissive
“That’s one hell of a yard sale. Your dress is sinfully wicked too. It makes me think about cherry pie. And whipped cream. Lots of whipped cream.” Taking a cue from their earlier discussion, he leaned closer and whispered, “The real stuff. No can. No Cool Whip.”
Letting out a sigh, she reached over and squeezed his thigh. “Like I said, dessert will be at your place.”
So far, the food and service were as impeccably good as she’d promised. After the main course was mostly consumed—Lilly was on her second basket of bread—Donovan had finally built up enough courage to reach into the inside pocket of his coat and remove his surprise for her. Without looking at her, he slid the folded pieces of paper closer to her plate. “Your questionnaire. Plus a little something extra I found on the Internet.”
He’d even gotten the health screening done and rushed the test results so he could provide proof he was disease free.
“You did your homework,” she replied with a pleased smile. “Very good, Donovan.”
He concentrated on his glass, though he watched her unfold the paper out of the corner of his eye. Just knowing she was reading all his dirty little secret desires made his cheeks flush and he had to fight not to squirm like an excited puppy. Irritated at his inability to remain cool and detached with even a simple praise from the Mistress, he scowled at the wine glass and fought not to curse out loud.
Her questionnaire had been easy enough to answer. There wasn’t much on the discipline scale that didn’t appeal to him, while the humiliation elements were easy enough to decline. It was the second questionnaire that worried him.
The sexual limits questions she hadn’t bothered to ask her other clients. Some of the things it’d asked he didn’t even know existed.
She glanced around to make sure the extremely expedient waiter was nowhere close. “Are you sure about bondage?”
Surprised, Donovan shrugged. Out of all the shockingly kinky things on those papers, that’s what she was worried about? “As sure as I am about anything. In my limited experience, it was…” He couldn’t finish the sentence but simply looked into her eyes, letting her see his reaction. The thought of having her tying him up, making him helpless…
“Even a collar?”
He nodded jerkily without looking away. He wanted her control. Whatever that meant. Especially on his throat.
“I see. It’s just… I noticed that your shirt isn’t buttoned around your neck. You also had to loosen your tie the other night. I thought you might have a problem with constriction around your throat.”
“No.” His voice was hoarse, so he took a drink of wine, even though his hand shook enough he almost sloshed wine on the linens. “Sorry. I know I’m rather informal for our first date.”
“I’m far from offended by the tantalizing glimpse of skin at your neck, Donovan. But I am concerned for your wellbeing.”
“It won’t be a problem,” he promised, despite the furious storm of need threatening to overwhelm his control.
“Ah,” she breathed out softly. “I see. You want it. Maybe too much.”
He nodded again and forced the words through his strangled throat. “As long as said collar hasn’t been used on anyone else.”
“I understand,” she said softly, with such honesty and acceptance that his eyes burned. He looked away, unwilling to let her see how close he was to falling apart. “Are you a leather man? Or would some kind of chain suit you better?” She kept her voice soft and gentle, as if she were musing aloud and he just happened to overhear, while she tucked the papers into her small red pocketbook. “A chain, I think. As gorgeous and elegant as you. Something you could wear all the time if you wanted and no one would bat an eye. Would you like that, Donovan? A beautiful collar you could wear tight around your throat beneath your shirt and tie all day?”
“Yes.” The shaking had expanded to his entire body. It was embarrassing how easily she affected him. How completely. Brought to the edge just by the thought of her slipping a necklace around his throat. Was she as affected by him? If he slipped his hand beneath the sexy tight dress, would he find her as bare and wet as she’d been in his office? Mistake. Huge. Because now he wanted her hot, wet bare pussy in his hand. While she put a collar on his throat.I’ll die on the spot.“Mistress.”
It came out more of a plea for help than he cared to admit. A warning, in case she didn’t realize how close he was. The last thing he wanted to do was come in public. The thought of having to excuse himself and rush to the bathroom to clean up mortified him.Not here. Not now. This is her world. Her friends. I don’t want to humiliate myself here!
He shouldn’t have underestimated her.
She squeezed his thigh hard beneath the table, digging her nails into him so that his breath rushed out on a gasp. “You willnotcome, Donovan.”
His thigh trembled beneath her hand, his muscles corded with effort. The waiter returned and she whispered something low to him. Hopefully to buy Donovan a little privacy. Sweat trickled down his back and his chest heaved with effort, but he didn’t come. He concentrated on breathing in and out, slow and deep. The Mistress’s hand remained firm on his thigh. She knew he could do it. There wasn’t an ounce of doubt in her voice.
So he did.
“That’s it, Donovan. You’re doing fine. Can you walk now?”
He blinked, surprised and ashamed that she felt the need to leave on account of him. “I’m all right. I don’t want you to miss dessert.”
She laughed softly and took his hand, drawing him up with her. “You’re my dessert tonight. Dmitri said there’s someone asking about you at the front door. He thinks it’s a reporter. He sent them away but they’re probably casing the building. Hopefully we can get out the back before they realize it.”
“A reporter? Here? How…” It hit him, then. “The limo. Of all the stupid, ostentatious…”
“Shhh.” She led him through the swinging kitchen doors. He managed to walk, albeit stiffly and uncomfortably. Hopefully no one looked too closely at his crotch. “Can you call your driver and tell him to draw them off the opposite direction?”
