Page 22 of The Billionaire Submissive
He took off the shirt, revealing the darkly tanned, sculpted lines of his upper body. Somewhere, he went without his shirt a great deal, and he did enough exercise or physical work to cover every inch of him in lean slabs of muscle. Black hair curled across his chest, a nice mat she’d have fun with later.
His hands went to his trousers, but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Poor boy must be on the edge again.This is going to be a night he’ll never forget if he’s ready to come just from me watching him take off his clothes.
Relenting a little, she decided to ask him a few questions to distract him enough he could get his pants off. “You said you had limited experience. How many scenes have you done? How many Mistresses have you played with?”
“Casual stuff at a club, ten, maybe twenty times. I’m not too comfortable in a public setting, even the more private rooms at the club.”
Calmer, he managed to unbutton his trousers. The black material slid down his thighs, revealing skin as tanned as his upper body. He wore silk boxers, but she had a feeling he’d be tanned underneath too. Yum. Where did he do this deliciously naked tanning? The same dark hair sprinkled his long, powerful thighs. He kicked off his shoes and lifted each foot to pull off his socks. God, he even had sexy, gorgeous feet, well manicured and perfectly shaped, almost as elegant as his hands.
“A so-called Mistress who wanted to do a strip tease for me in pleather boots and latex while waving a fake crop around? Once. I learned my lesson. A real Mistress away from the club? You’re my first.”
Oh dear. No wonder he’s wound so tightly.As a submissive, Donovan Morgan was pretty much a virgin. “Have you ever been punished so hard you came?”
His cheeks flushed but he gave her a stiff nod. “Twice. Each time at a club. I never went back to either place.”
“Why not?” She rose up into a sitting position. “There’s no shame in the natural need of your body, Donovan.”
“I was afraid…” He dragged both hands through his hair until he looked like a wild man with a scrap of silk around his hips. “I was afraid people would remember me.”
“How quickly you came.”
He nodded again, averting his gaze. His cheeks darkened with shame to the point that his eyes looked bruised.
The male ego was a fragile thing, especially this male’s, her delightfully arrogant and bossy submissive. She didn’t dare laugh, his greatest fear, even though she thought it very sweet and naive that he’d been so embarrassed.
She turned her attention to her clothing. One of the things she’d loved about this dress was the line of buttons down to the waist. She undid a few to reveal the cherry-red corset she wore beneath, which immediately snagged his attention.
“Some men measure their virility by the size of their dick.” He flinched at the coarse language, even though his nostrils flared and the front of his boxers was nearly screaming with pressure. Evidently where he’d grown up, ladies didn’t curse.Boy is he in for a surprise.“How’s your size, Donovan? Are you going to measure up? Show me. Show me what you’ve got under those pretty undies.” His shaking hands immediately went to the silk, but she interrupted. “Come closer. Give me a good look.”
He did so, shoving the silk down as he halted in front of her.
“Nice, very nice, Donovan. You’ve passed the first test. When I let you fuck me, you’re going to fill me up good, aren’t you?” She leaned down like she was going to touch him and he sucked in a harsh, shaking breath. “I’d say you’re about nine inches. Very impressive. Nice and thick too. We’ll measure again when you’re fully erect. I think I can get more length and thickness in you after a little torment.”
“Ten,” he ground out. “Mistress.”
She smiled and looked up at him coyly. “Some men measure their virility by how long they can endure an erection without coming. What do you think, Donovan? How long can you last if I put my mouth on you?”
His breath whistled through his teeth, his chest heaving. “Not long at all, Mistress.”
“Some submissives have it in their head they have to take a lot of punishment before they come. They think it makes them more manly, more impressive.” She reached back and undid the rhinestone alligator clip she’d used to temporarily tame her hair. She shook the mass forward, deliberately dragging all that silky length against his aching cock.
His hips surged, his hands fisted, and he threw his head back, veins cording in his neck as he fought to restrain himself.
“What these submissives fail to realize is how exciting it can be as a woman, a Mistress, to know how powerful we are. That the submissive wants us so badly that he can’t control himself without our help and comes at the slightest touch. Not once but over and over at his Mistress’s command. Every time she turns around and asks if he’s ready, he can and will be erect for her pleasure. Is that you, Donovan? If I touch you now, will you come at my command?”
“It won’t take a touch,” he ground out, eyes still squeezed shut.
“Then show me.” She sat back so she could see his face. “Come, Donovan. Come for me.”
He barely managed to turn his hips aside enough so he didn’t come all over her sexy dress. Evidently he didn’t know jack about what a Mistress—this Mistress, at least—would expect, but he didn’t think she’d appreciate having to wipe his sperm off her chest or face. Though his five-thousand-dollar comforter would never be the same.
Panting, he finally opened his eyes, surprised to find he’d managed to stay on his feet. He’d never come so hard before. Spots danced before his eyes and he swayed.
Lilly braced a hand on either side of his hips, helping him keep his balance. “Good boy, Donovan. You did exactly as your Mistress asked. The real test will be later when I ask you to be ready for me. Are you going to be able to get hard again? Come again?”
“Any time you want, Mistress,” he ground out. Agreeing with his words, his cock stirred, still starved for her attention.
She gave him a swat on the ass, hard enough that he jumped. “Good. I’m assuming your kitchen is better equipped than mine?”
